17-mile mountain bike ride in, 22 out. Pouring rain, dried off in the bus, and slept in it. Crashed about 4 times and for nearly a minute flew down a super steep mountainside not by choice, I had no brakes, but in the peace of the chaotic moment I elected not to crash like it was accepted before as a option. We waded through waist deep rushing rivers of the Tec and the Savage. Crossed terrain of beaver dammed waters, think grass lands, big hills up and down, rides through streams and giant mud puddles. At last, all my gear was dry. I liked how prepared I was, the beauty of a 40 pound plus pack.
What I really love is nearly six years ago, David Mehr gave me the book. At that time, I was lonely, insecure, and uncertain if adventures were safe. Now I have journeyed so much and not once did I feel alone out there in the wilderness of Alaska in my pursuit of that bus. I thought it was a neat the amount of growth that has occurred and a capping point by being at the bus, the location of the story that I read which influenced me nearly six years earlier.
I appreciated the miracles that the happened. One, no serious injuries and two, after 22 miles and quite a few more to go with down hills and no brakes, we got picked up my Sam. This man took us to another truck to give us a legal ride back to the homestead.
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