Alaska Days 1-3

Miles: 2,384
Average MPG: 19.2
Gallons: 124.17
Bears and Wolves: 4
Alaska Beards: 3
Miles Hiked: 0

Well we made it to Denali National Park...technically a private campground just outside the park called Grizzly Bear Campground. It's a brisk night with a low of about 48F.  We are camped overlooking a beautiful river and are enjoying the soft ripple of water over smooth stones. Yulia, Nick and Mirella drove very well and covered the bulk of the distance.  My specialty was the night time sections.  I remember a little road trip I took in college with Trevor, Lili, Sam, Joe, and Jean.  They killed the days and I owned the night (the trip was from Hillsdale Michigan out to South Padre Island, 30 hours of sweet blacktop).
For some inexplicable reason I have been blessed with excellent sight (20/10 right and 20/20 left) and, when properly caffeinated, very good reflexes. So I love the night drives.
We only had one little issue on the way up (besides a few minor wrong turns), the Canadian Mounties!? On the U.S. / Canadia (YES! the proper name for "Canada" is Canadia, or America's Hat, or that loft apartment above a really great party) border we hit a little problem.  When the border agent asked for our passports and an explanation of how all the passengers knew each other he got suspicious and told us to pull over to the parking area.  We complied and went inside the 1960s era facility. A stone-faced Asian Mounty asked me to explain how these disparate people all happen to be going to Alaska. I felt his subtle implication loud and clear: you must be smugglers trying to get some of that chine-white American common sense into the warped world of Canadia...and I won't let you, Eh!
While he and his comrades in Mounty-dom removed every last piece of gear from our car and using the most sophisticated techniques known to a Canadia-ian, a portable X-ray machine (no doubt loaned from the U.S. Border Patrol) found that we are really boring people, no booze, knives, tactical nukes, or copies of Calvin and Hobbes Revenge of the Baby-Sat (this book must be illegal in Canadia where anything fun must be viewed with suspicion, apparently including some Alaska-bound crazies in a rental car with Colorado plates). During my interroga-...I mean "cordial interview" with the Mounty, his questions led me to explain the hierarchy and organizational structure of Mars Hill Church.  I thought that was hilarious, but I tried to keep a straight face. My 5 month internship under the executive elders and their assistant really came in handy.
After surviving the Mounties, we snagged some snacks and dropped the Traverse in gear to cross the great wastes of Vancouver Before Christ and the desolate Yukon. Along the way I played California by the band Phantom Planet which Tina convinced us to change to "Laska, Laska...Laska, Laska, Oh here we come!"
I also made the mistake of self-disclosure. I told two stories that led to the creation of a mad inside joke. So in an attempt to kill an inside joke by making it a Google-able outside joke, here goes:
I was once studying with my grad school colleague Greg Teplow.  We were studying in a coffee shop (propably Zoka in U Village) and my tall and 30% African American buddy turns to me and says in a bold voice, "You Sir are a Racist!" And he immediately goes back to his notes and books.  I an sitting there kinda stunned and trying to avoid eye-contact with all the curious people looking at the little mostly white looking guy with the tall mostly black looking dude as they mentally place bets on how many second it will take the white guy to die after the black guy leaps across the table.  Greg was totally joking but the awkward reaction in the coffee shop was priceless.  Another odd story comes from my buddy Joe Seaver who had a brother who inspired him. When someone sneezes in most of the English speaking world the proper response in to say bless you but what do you say when someone coughs?  Joe's answer was brilliant: "SHUT UP!".  So I disclosed these two stories to my travelling companions.  So for the rest of the trip Josue led us in a chorus of "Shut up you racist!" Or "Shut up Sir" Or "Racist Cough-er" at random times for no apparent reason.  It was great fun. On highway 37 we saw 4 black bears just on the side of the road. At Whitehorse Yukon Terrotories, we enjoyed a nice meal at Earl's Restaurant.  They actually gave me a sweet design idea for my house.
We made the Canadia / Alaska border at 4AM and after a laugh with the lone border patrol agent over how bad Canadia's roads are and the majesty of the Alaska state bird (the mosquito) we were back in the land of awesomeness. American roads are far better than Canadia-ian roads and actually are crowned so the rain water actually runs off of it instead of pooling.
By noon of the third day we had resupplied in Fairbanks and turned South to Denali.
Now some Pics:

 The Park Sign

 I managed to pick up a hood ornament.

An example of the beauty we encountered on the drive North

Special thanks to Bardo Pond, and my old musical friend Mogwai for providing the tunes for this blogging experience.