Up Over: 7/25/16 Everywhere Is Far

Maps can be deceiving and even the best of intentions can't shorten miles, especially in Alaska.

Sun and Denali were on the menu for today. Feeling svelte without our rain suits, we threw our legs over and Jules leaned the handlebars south. We were headed to one of the largest and most beautiful National Parks in the US.

Mountains teased us for hours, as we never seemed to grow closer. I can't imagine what it might have been for the first explorers on foot and horseback because at 70 mph, it seemed to take eons. But the whole day lay ahead of us in the sun, and we rode on comfortably.

A picnic with a view saw us dawdle. Back on the road, we finally met the mountains face to face. The Alaska Range sports the highest mountain in North America, Denali, formerly known as McKinley. The 6 million acre park surrounding it is bisected by only one road. Pocketed with construction, we motored as far as private vehicles can go, craning our necks to soak in all the majesty surrounding us. Only buses provided by the park are allowed past the public road and dozens of them poured in, packed with 50 plus bodies. Do the math and you can see how human impact on this pristine environment is prevented by mass transportation into the depths of the park. We opted to take the short route and ride alone.

A lonely reindeer watched our exit from the park road that took us back to the Parks Highway. We were by no means done with Denali as we traveled past range after range of dazzling peaks. Then clouds changed the demeanor of the day to angry and once again we unrolled our rain suits and headed into weather. A quest for gas and possibly a bed for the night became formidable. Miles of lonely highway took us further into the forest. Wasilla, the closet city was hours away, and although darkness was not an issue, it was getting late and Rascal was breathing fumes.

Then Trapper Creek Trading Post appeared like an oasis. As Jules pumped gas, I inquired about lodging. They were 50% full - one of two cabins left. We gratefully booked it. A homey dinner at the restaurant with local color gave us a taste of real Alaska. Hardworking men with mud soaked jeans, who can't find a barber or a dentist, filled us in on local lore. Then we repaired to our porch where we waited for night that never came, with feet on the railing, listening to the rain tap the roof.

Our ride took us a little longer today, but the benefits were bountiful. Warm sun, sublime scenery and safe harbor for the night created perfection. And then there was us.