Leaving the wild behind

Waking up where he eventually didn't, some small part of me wonders about my own final night on this earth. Many of us won't know that evening before it comes, which I also wonder to myself the option I'd rather. The thoughts are fleeting, however, and I break my camp with well-earned muscle memory. Packing the damp tent, I make mental note to dry it out tonight. Wet gear doesn't bother me on days I know I'm "headed back to town" instead of those when I'm spending three or four more nights out. Gathering up my gear goes quickly as does my meager breakfast. My fellow pilgrims sleeping in the bus had asked me to wake them before I leave so that I can take a picture or two for them. I take my time savoring my coffee, a trail luxury I don't often indulge in, so as not to wake them too early.

"Heading back to town." Huh, I really am this time. From here I'm headed into Fairbanks to meet a few of my friends from back home in Colorado for the final leg of this adventure- Rafting to the arctic ocean. But before that chapter launches, I'll be in Fairbanks for days handling the logistics. It'll be the first time I've spent more than one day in the same area, much less the same town in so long. The momentum of my trip is slowly grinding to a halt. This adventure is steadily rolling to a stop. Honestly, my mind may be ready for just that.

With the last sips of my coffee cooling off in my titanium cup/cook pot I call out to my neighbors. They wake easily and quickly, albeit with half-closed eyes and wild hair. They stumble out cheerily with film camera in hand. We chat a bit but move on to taking a couple pictures of them without too much fuss. Veranika and Piotr offer to take a "real" picture of me that they can send me later, but I've taken plenty with my own camera already, so I decline. Stowing my now empty coffee cup, I'm ready to hit the trail. The newlywed couple shares that they were nearly out of food and plan on spending the day resting up and eating some of the stockpiled supplies, hiking out tomorrow, likely over two days. Planning on making the 20 miles in one day, I've got to get moving. We say our goodbyes and I head off.

The trip back is largely uneventful, aside from a shy porcupine and some ATVers in the last six or seven miles that had swamped the engine of one of their rigs crossing the big beaver ponds. My thoughts are already in Fairbanks, where the next and final chapter of this big adventure will start. I vacillate between thoughts of the future and thoughts of my recent past. The distance back to the van disappears quickly now that I know the way and the landmarks have become familiar. This feels like the real end to my journey however. It is bittersweet. It'll take some thought to truly understand it all, but I do no I'm lucky to have had all this. Not only that, but the end of "my" adventure is really just the launch of an amazing rafting trip further into the Alaskan interior with a small group of good friends. No complaints there.

The next day, once I'm back in service, I will learn that Veranika was swept off the rope they used to cross the river. Evidently she was not a strong swimmer and by the time Piotr could pull her out downstream she was already dead. I wish I would have exchanged contact info with him about the picture so I could offer some kind of sympathy. My commune with the death of one I never met was strangely close to one with a girl I actually had.