As some of you may know, my strapping husband is from Alaska. Well, not ‘from’ in the sense that he was born there, but ‘from’ as in that’s where he has spent most of his life.
We moved to Alaska when Ariana was about 2 months old. Not only did we move there, we drove there. From Ohio. In two cars. All 4058.19 miles. All 70ish hours of driving, 10 hours a day. All $1257.92 of gas. With a two month old.
Good lord, we were insane for making that trip. Heck, it was snowing as we drove through Canada.
But every second of that week was worth it. Alaska is beautiful. The mountains run seamlessly into the ocean and when the sun silhouettes the snow-capped peaks at midnight, it takes your breath away.
Before we left Alaska, we camped for 8 days with the girls, who were 17 months and 2 months old at the time. The sun was out all night and our campsite was next to a stream and we were less than a mile from the base of a gorgeous mountain.
Alaska has been on my mind a lot lately. I miss the bike path that I used to walk on daily, our condo, all the beauty that surrounded our small town.