August 15, Day 1, Off at last

Leben, Erde and I are now sitting in the Defender.  As soon as I send off this message we will be shoving off to Alaska. At least that's where we are headed right now. With all of the many now-resolved obstacles that were tossed in our path since we tried to set out originally on July 15th, not to mention since 2003, I would not be surprised if yet another obstacle rears its ugly head en route to Alaska, delaying the trip further or forcing us to turn back. But I shall remain optimistic and assume that everything that could go wrong has already gone wrong, or that we will deal with any new problem as we have all the others that delayed this trip: solve it, figure out how to prevent it from recurring, and move on. Our only goal for this trip is to get back home safely.

In 2000, I took my first long road trip ever as a way to give 13-year old Sonntag one more ride in the car, his favorite treat, before I went to Russia. I looked at a map, saw that the longest road from DC in North America was to Prudhoe Bay, Alaska (a.k.a. Deadhorse), and off we went. To this day, it saddens me that Sonntag’s sister Kessie was not with us on that trip to Alaska except in my heart. (Kessie died in 1999.) Although Leben and Erde took a similar journey with me in 2001 when I returned to Alaska to scatter Sonntag’s and Kessie’s ashes over the tundra of the North Slope, I was determined to not let that happen again with Leben and Erde, which was the reason I had to get on the road this year for their return and maybe final journey to Alaska or together. Little did I realize, though, that I would be making this journey with another (much bigger) paralyzed, wheelchair-bound dog. Worse, little did I realize that I would be making this trip knowing what we face when we return to deal with Erde's just-discovered tumor. But at least I have the two of them with me on this trip. Fortunately, I have learned how to maintain Leben’s quality life and to accept that the threat to Erde exists only if I do nothing about it when I return. I know well how fortunate I am to be making this trip with my two old dogs, whose companionship I have had the joy of experiencing for 12 years. And I know well how fortunate those dogs are compared to the plight of so many other non-human animals on this planet today.

Since I first started to plan this trip back in 2003, one problem or another delayed, cut short or cancelled the trip each year. Last year, we had to turn back because Leben became paralyzed on the trip. Our original departure date of July 15 this year was delayed for a seemingly endless chain of interruptions, some of which I reported earlier on this blog. The only good with those interruptions was that they exposed problems while we were still at home and not on the road, and that their trip-delaying results made ample opportunity for other problems to appear and, more importantly, get solved.

Two weeks ago, we were getting read to pull out when the chain of events leading to the discovery of Erde’s tumor started. Now that I know what I have to do about that, and with Erde’s oncologist’s permission, we are now setting out for Alaska, almost 6000 miles and at least 19 days away. Had this trip not been delayed beyond our original July 15 departure date, I would not now have the permits to drive the Denali Park Road on the weekend of September 13th, which is now the magnet pulling us to Alaska at this late date, but I would also have been completely in the dark about a half dozen now-resolved problems just waiting to appear.

In 2002, The National Geographic labeled Sonntag’s trip to Alaska An Incredible Journey, and it was for sure. But based alone on what we have just been through, this trip qualifies for that adjective already, and the trip is just getting underway. And if things go anywhere near where I hope they will, these next two months will be with me for the rest of my life.

Recently, in a rare moment of reflection, I made a list of those people, places and events over my adult life that brought me great joy. With apologies to any reader who thought she would head that list, I have no doubt that my five dogs would. (You would be second.) And among the fondest memories I have with those dogs are my road trips with them. For this reason, despite a problematic back, a recently-repaired knee, a 110-pound 12-year old paralyzed German shepherd, his twin sister facing surgery and radiation for a tumor as soon as we return, at least 12,000 miles of roads and 50+ nights of setting up camp every day ahead of us, I really have no choice but to make this trip.

Click here (or on the right sidebar button, TRIP PLAN) for a map of our planned outward bound leg of our journey to Prudhoe Bay and Denali, which we have to reach by September 12, 27 days from now. This trip is actually part II of our journey to the ends of the road in the northeast (Labrador) and northwest (Prudhoe Bay), which I am sure no one has ever done before, at least not like we’re doing it. I will plan the inward bound leg at Denali, unless circumstances require that we do so before that. 

As for today, our destination is Mongaup State Park in the Catskill Mountains in New York, about 370 miles away. This is where we started our journey last year and where perhaps the greatest experience of all my road trips occurred, our hike to Beech Mountain, my old Boy Scout Camp and now an isolated nature preserve, where my life-long love of camping and the outdoors was born. We will not be taking that hike again this year, but if there is one hike I will put at the top of the list of memorable events it will be that one.

We’re off.