Traffic, people, strip malls, camping at the Wall-Mart, it just doesn't do it for me. Anchorage is like any other American city, it sucks. I have to be in town to run some errands, but besides that I try to get myself as fast as possible out of this city. But the bad feel lingers longer then I like. As I run out of town, I can't find a decent camping spot, and I end up on an overcrowded free campsite. I park my Oto randomly on the campground, while there are no free sites anymore. Crawling into the back of the Oto, I already feel something is wrong. I must have eaten something wrong and the whole night I role around to deal with the cramps in my body. Luckily the neighbors are giving me some distraction with Britney Spears blasting out of their radio until deep into the night.
The next day I feel grumpy and drive to the town of Hope. Not sure what to do there, but just the name should make me feel better. But at the exit to Hope, I notice that there will be no gas in Hope, and with an gas-tank empty light on for a while already I keep on driving to the junction Seward-Homer. But its one of these days, there is nothing at the junction. Just 2 roads splitting and a lake. The decision falls on Seward and I keep on driving and start counting down the milage. 37 miles, I might make that. 20 miles and the Oto starts jittering. There is no where to pull of, so I keep on going. 15 miles and I loose all power and pull over. Damm, its really one of these days. At the pull over a grandpa is teaching his grand children how to trap muskrats. Jeh, give me a redneck trapper, that will save my day. The grandpa is however very nice and gives me a ride to town. He even loans me a gas can and drives me back to my Oto. Thanks. I make it to town, fill up my tank and pull into a closed campground. Tomorrow can be only better, and at least now I know how big my tank is.
Dag,
Iris (Anchorage, 5452 miles)
