It seemed like a good day to have a midlife crisis so I opted for the red Mini at the rental car place. It was the right choice — the following day the sky was a shocking blue and it was t-shirt weather for the first time since I’d arrived in Alaska. It was also the first time I was alone. I fiddled with the radio for a bit while in the hotel parking lot, and then, I headed south along Turnagain Arm with the sunroof open.… continued…
She had coppery hair; this isn’t a metaphor. It was shiny, metallic, like fine copper wire. And it was styled, her bangs sprayed stiff and pin curls by her ears. Her eyebrows were painted on her wide open face. It was impossible to guess her age, she could have been forty, she could have been sixty, her skin was perfect and smooth. She was covered in beads, dangling earrings and bracelets and necklaces, and in front of her, the work table, covered with beads too, shiny plasticy things, reflective, like her perfectly lacquered nails.… continued…
We were supposed to fly to Kantishna, but the sky was heavy with rain. Too low, too low, with no visibility, we were not allowed to fly. Instead, we drove two hours to the gates of Denali National Park where we boarded a rattling school bus piloted by a guy with a perfect radio announcer voice and 30 plus years of living in and around the park. The seats were hard, the heat was weak, the windows fogged when shut and dripped when slid open just enough to keep the fog away.… continued…
