"I'm going to speak my mind because I have nothing to lose."--S.I. Hayakawa

Saturday, August 20, 2011

You Run into the Darndest People in the Darndest Places

So there I was, bouncing over rocks and ruts, splashing through mud puddles, eating dust, and all the while I was (obliviously) in the company of a celebrity.  And her girlfriends.

This latest activity was a spur-of-the-moment decision.  I have a 7 AM appointment in Anchorage at the RV doctor to get the electrical system in my travel trailer knocked back into shape, so I stayed another day at Denali park.  I'll leave Saturday and lollygag my way to Anchorage.

Anyway, I signed up for an ATV trip into the foothills a dozen miles north of here.  Where I come from, they're called four-wheelers.  I signed the "no-fun" form that relieves everyone and anyone from any liability and places the blame squarely on me for any mayhem and catastrophes, and paid my money.

At the appointed hour, we piled into a van and Mike drove us north to Healy.  We were assigned our machines, given helmets to wear, and saddled up.  Soon we were roaring off onto a series of gravel "roads" and bouncing over the afore-mentioned rocks.

At one overlook, we picked blueberries.

Brian, our guide, led us down onto a riverbed to a huge sand bank that is slowly being eroded by the river.

We took a long break here while two teenagers ran for the fissures in the face of this bank, then drove back to our starting point.

It was there that I overheard the words "published my book" and "in production with FOX for a reality show."

A book, huh?  That got my attention, so I asked.

Once I saw the name written on her business card, bells started ringing--and not the ones in my head still clanging from bouncing over boulders.

Casey, center, and travel friends.
Poor Casey must have the worst job in the world.  She has to travel.  With friends.  And write about it.  And talk about it on TV and radio.  And get paid for it.

What's so awful about that?

She has to do it all on a schedule.

She's in Alaska for a week.  A week! That's hardly enough to time to get your luggage off the carousel and get out of the airport.

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