We also stopped at the Bonanza Market on the way home, and again got cookies.
That was it for Dawson, which since I’d been there last, has been gentrified. For instance, there was, on Main Street, a Bed and Breakfast with the most ornate door and front area I have ever seen. I wonder what the owners would have thought had us two very grungy hikers walked in the door.
We also stopped in Chicken, named such because (or so it has been said) that the original inhabitants couldn’t spell the word Ptarmigan. Ha ha. The 21 or so townspeople are now catering to those who might pay for chicken kitsch, or to have their photos taken next to a giant egg that reds “I got laid in chicken.”
Both Becky and I agreed that the town should be renamed Ptarmigan, and that information about these birds and their habitat be the tourist-related draw.
No need then, to go to Eagle or any other place in Alaska or the Yukon.
So we got home a few days early. I felt like I’d been given some breathing room. Yesterday I took care of the animals, and rode, and cleaned the goat pen. Today I rode Raudi and Hrimmi and took Tinni for a walk. The sun was shining brightly. I then went to town and sorted, categorized, and distributed books. After, Pete and I went to the Alaska State Fairgrounds and distributed books at the Eckert Gardens, the Mat-Su College library booth, and the VCRS booth.
If I’d remained on the road, I’d be doing these things in the next few days. In other words, I did not feel overwhelmed. In fact, I felt fairly relaxed as I went about my business.
I was scheduled to get home tomorrow, late. So I have another day’s free time ahead of me. I can only wonder how I would have felt had I not gone anywhere at all.
Next: 237. 8/30/22: And what’s to become of the book project?