The other day I drove through gold country. Originally we were just going to Chicken (yes, there is a town up here called Chicken. Apparently it had a different name, but the miners didn't know how to spell it.), which is an eclectic clutter of buildings, old mining machines, a gigantic dredge, and like five people. At least when we got there. The town is empty during the winter and people come in during the summer for gold season. As with many of the small summer towns up here, there is only one road going through it, so when it washes out, you're stuck.
Anyways, once we had finished re-outfitting the ambulance stationed up there it was either "go back now and get home by 6, or go up to Poker Creek." Since I had no idea where Poker Creek was (I've never been in this part of Alaska before) I said 'sure, let's head up'. The drive... I don't even know where to begin. We climbed higher and higher into the mountains, going past Eagle and onto the Top of the World Highway. So aptly named.
We were literally driving on the ridge of the mountains, at a higher elevation than all the surrounding mountains. The weather was clear enough that we could see. For. Miles. There were green valleys on either side, split by silver white rivers and dotted with the occasional mine. Snow-capped mountains stretched out farther and farther, never ending. The packed dirt road winding before and behind us snaked precariously along the fine edge. I wish I had brought my camera with me, because the view was truly stunning. At some point, I will go back (perhaps with a gold pan >.>) and take as many pictures as I can.
On a different front, I'm finally starting to get used to being called Uncle and having someone bring me my shoes when I head outside. I am not, however, getting used to having to touch something when it is shown to me. Apparently that's how they know I've actually seen it...
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