Up Over: 7/24/16 We did it!

All you need is a positive attitude!

Cautiously pulling back the curtain this morning, hoping for a brighter sky, I was again met with the gloomy clouds that have been our companions for three days. Toughened to these conditions, we swaddled and saddled up, happy to be on the road no matter what.

Leaving Beaver Creek, the most western point in Canada, we spun wheels out of Ida's. Last year at this same time, we spent the night in the most eastern part of this country, St. John's, Newfoundland. After reaching both these destinations, almost 6,000 miles apart, I feel like a modern Colossus, riding with wheels planted firmly on both sides of the world.

So close to our home country, we flew past Canadian customs, right outside of Beaver Creek. This station used to be in the middle of town, but it was moved down the road because motorists kept blowing through, setting off sirens in the middle of the night. Only thirty more kilometers and we were at the border. Welcome to the USA and the 50th state we have ridden!

Pumped to be standing in Alaska, we posed for all the obligatory pictures, relishing this monumental moment. The rain had stopped and we ran from marker to marker like kids in a candy shop. Hugging and kissing, we sealed this instant in our memories forever.

Now into the largest state, whose area is greater than that of Texas, California, Montana and New Mexico combined. It didn't matter that we would only scratch the surface of Alaska. The fact that we made it was enough. A stop for lunch at "Fast Eddie's" dried us off a bit. Here we realized we had cell service again. Back into the future!

The roads, though still rough at points, were greatly improved from yesterday's wrestling match. The rain was small and gentle so visibility was better. I think we are becoming seasoned to the wet riding! Still seeming isolated from the rest of the world, we glided by acres of forest and hundreds of lakes and rivers. Poles carrying electricity to the few souls that live out her dipped dangerously toward the ground, sinking in the permafrost.

And "Yes, Virginia, there is " .... blue sky. Clouds parted, the sun shone and we rode with faces warmed into Delta Junction, the end of the Alaska Highway. Conquering another milestone, we congratulated ourselves and Rascal on a long, hard, but fulfilling ride. Giant mosquitos, replicas of the "state bird" greeted us and we stood by the mile marker for a photo op.

Optimistically, we peeled off our rain jackets for the first time in days, but the gold of the sun was the fool's variety. Rain fell sporadically as we whizzed past Army convoys and the Alaska Pipeline. Santa greeted us at North Pole, but we just waved as we flew by on our way to Fairbanks. A big, small town, we found beds for the night amid a riot of flowers.

Despair has never been in our vocabulary. Days ago when I checked the Alaska weather in Toad River, a giant green radar blob hovered over most of the state. I shut off my iPad, rolled over and put any worry way in the back of my brain. We journied on through it all, glued front to back for miles of road that tested us daily and we skidded to a stop every evening with smiles, proclaiming, "Holy shit! What a ride!" And here we are in Alaska, The Last Frontier, and the last state on our list to conquer. We did it!