North.

Friends,

I began writing this at approximately 11:28 p.m. yesterday evening after setting the three alarms it requires to keep my fire going throughout the night. I want to start with letting you know that venturing all this way to live in a harsh environment is not an attempt at being “extreme” or going off the grid. I am fully aware that there are others that have and are undertaking adventures much more intense than my current endeavor. Yes, I have been fortunate to have on and off access to a wifi hotspot and the ability to charge my phone (though I don’t get service) through my neighbor Gary’s generator every few days if you were curious as to how I am able to share this from the middle of nowhere. Gary is essentially the Mr. Miyagi to my Wilderness Kid and for that I am ever thankful. My goal for these posts is merely to connect and relay this journey in an honest and humanizing manner.

Upon entering my third week in McCarthy I have come to realize the days here don’t really have a defined beginning or end. Waking up at 2 a.m., 4 a.m. & 6 a.m. has become my new normal if I want to avoid being able to see my breath inside my cabin by the time the sun comes up. There are times at night I spend too long dwelling on the fact that I am alone in the woods and get spooked which leads to staying up for hours at a time. Through moments like these I can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of getting scared when, statistically speaking, I’m much safer here than in the neighborhood I just spent the last four months of my life in. During these bouts of worrying I think about the difference between animals and humans in the sense that unlike us, whatever animals *could* be out there, for the most part, act upon reason. What I’m getting at is: I know, I know, the bears are sleeping and the wolves are intelligent.

There is a very long, cold week ahead and temperatures ranging from a high of 8 degrees F to the -20 to -5 normal even heading to sleep in 2 pairs of socks, fleeced leggings, sweats, a long sleeve thermal, a lined jacket, a scarf and a hat I’m still getting used to being woken up by the cold. This morning I had the surprise of finding my boots frozen to the floor, a rookie mistake as they should always be hanging or placed away from the chill of the icy ground.

Temperatures have dropped to the lowest I’ve seen here so far and routine is difficult to stick to as even small things now pose a challenge. In any other setting I normally start my day by brushing my teeth and washing my face/showering but here everything takes about an extra hour as I have to wait for my toothpaste, face wash and water to thaw from it’s overnight freeze. And taking a real shower? Hah-forget it! Bucket baths are it for the next few months. Last night I tried out something new by sticking two of those adhesive hand warmers to my shirt to keep my core warm. It worked really well except for when the chemicals inside the satchel finally became fully activated at three a.m. and I woke up from the blazing heat on my chest thinking I was having a heart attack.

With an ample amount of time to be alone with my thoughts I’ve found that above hot showers, the convenience of going to a store and even warmth is *drumroll* human touch! It’s been nineteen days since I’ve had so much as a hug and being a social person, the absence of interaction is difficult to get used to. I do not mean to throw myself a pity party, I am fully aware that this adventure is self inflicted but I do want to share the high and low points of this journey. But, holy smokes, I really miss hugs!!

In short, if I wanted to look at my time here as one prolonged struggle I would not be doing it justice. Cold and isolation aside, my gosh, the beauty is astounding. When the stars come out to play it is like nothing else in this world. Within the silence that surrounds my cabin I am free to bundle up and lay atop the snow to absorb the beauty of such a magnificent world. Without the constant distractions of city life I am able to experience time in a way I have not done since I was a child. There aren’t any meetings to keep, no job to rush to. Watching the light paint the peaks of the mountains that surround me in gold and walking along the frozen river at sunset brings me more joy than I thought possible. Being here is the gift of simply being.

It is now 2:08 in the afternoon and ahead of me is the tree line and then the moraine which is followed by the glacier. Above, the sky is light blue and meets the mountains in a crooked handshake. The only noise is my pen against page and through every which direction my life could have taken me I am here and my heart is happy.

Lovingly,

Alana

P.S. Immense thank you’s to those of you who have written letters! Reading your words is truly the highlight of my week.

If you’ve got a moment to spare, tell me a story, I want to hear what makes you tick.

Alana Nason P.O. Box MXY 16 McCarthy, Alaska 99588