A Little More About Me — Living in Alaska
How to Tilt Windmills in the Modern World
I Gave Everything
I moved to Alaska two years ago looking for a better life, a different life, or a life. Take your pick; they are all one and the same to me. They say, “You get what you give.” Well, I gave everything and then some. Did I get everything in return?
I Arrived Via
I came to Alaska on a bicycle. It was a nice bicycle; it had two wheels, pedals, and a bell to warn people I was coming. They paid no heed to my little bell; after all, Alaska is a big state, and my bell isn’t very loud.
My Secret Weapon
I came, I saw. I looked around and said, “Here I am, and here I stay. “That was a bold statement, all things considered. I had the clothes on my back, my camping gear and two extra T-shirts. But I had a secret weapon that nobody could see. It is called confidence.
Not Knowing
Starting over in a new town on an island in Alaska takes a lot of guts. You do not wake up one morning, have a cup of coffee, and say, “I think I am going to move to Alaska on a bicycle.” I had the added benefit of not knowing I would move there.
Really?
Say, what? You did not know you were going to move? Nope, not a clue.
My Intentions Were
My intention was to see my fiftieth state and return home. My home was in San Francisco, California. I needed a change, and I wanted an adventure. If that is your definition of everything, then yes, I got everything I asked for, but if change and adventure are not your definition of everything, continue reading.
A Different Version of Sanity
Some people misconstrue my confidence as a strain of craziness. Consumer alert: there might be some truth in that sentiment. My confidence is based on a lifetime of taking risks and knowing my abilities to overcome obstacles. Obstacles that some would find daunting, difficult, and life-threatening. Having a savings account that provides a safety net also helps.
What I Gave Up
Money does not solve all problems, but in my case, it allowed me to take a risk that others might think twice about. I could survive a year without serious concern, but I could not return to my starting point. I would have to give up my job, apartment, friends, and all the little things that make life livable. Things like your doctor, dentist, banker, therapist, haircutter, bike mechanic, pharmacist, and grocer who all know you on a first-name basis. No more easy life.
How to Tilt Windmills in the Modern World
Starting over is not easy. Buyer Beware. Even for the brave soul, the adventurer, and the risk taker, starting over is akin to tilting windmills — no small task to be taken lightly. I attacked my windmill head-on. I relied on my imaginary friend Don Quixote more than once, exchanging his horse and shield for my bicycle and helmet.
My Wingsuit Without Wings
Having a sense of humor is important when you turn your life upside down. While upside down, I attempted the infamous shake rattle and roll routine. It is quite fun if you have a wingsuit, but without a parachute, you should do as I say and not as I do. Attempting to recreate my path could have disastrous consequences.
This Was All New to Me
I decided to take a job with zero overlapping skills to all former occupations. It was a brilliant idea. At the age of 55, I found myself standing on the bow of a ship at 3 am in thirty-mile-an-hour winds, 35 degrees and raining, trying to spot obstacles thirty feet below me. I had arrived in Alaska with a degree in accounting and twenty years of experience sitting in front of a computer screen. This was all new to me.
The Adventure Continued
The adventure continued to improve even if the weather in Alaska got worse. My new skill set improved enough that they let me steer the ship. That was much better than lookout duty on the bow. I recalled my ex saying look at the bright side; you get to buy new clothes, and I did. I purchased lots of new clothes over the past two years.
Out With the Old in With the New
I needed new clothes for the Alaskan winter and work. I ended up throwing out anything Californian. I bought a truck in California and filled it with the remnants of my apartment in San Francisco eight months after arriving in Alaska. I have not used anything I brought with me besides my mountain bike and scooter. I should have left it in California.
It is Different
I truly started over. I have a new this, that, and the next thing. I have bought or replaced everything, including a new car that can handle the Alaskan winter, snow, ice, and our infamous upside-down perpetual rain in Southeast Alaska. Things are different here than in sunny California.
More Than I Asked For
Did I get everything I asked for? Yes, no, and maybe I got more than I asked for. Just about everything I own, wear, and drive is new. I wrote a book about my experience. I should probably write a follow-up with everything I have done since moving here.
Entertaining Myself
My goals are greater than my current situation allows, which is a cryptic way of saying there is still room for improvement. A permanent residence and expanded social life would be a healthy alternative. I call them works in progress; trust me, I am working to improve both. These are big items that are not easy to attain, especially a social life. I still live with my imaginary friend Don Quixote, who keeps me entertained through the dark, lonely nights.
The Writer’s Life
I also get to torment my readers with long-winded diatribes about my life. I do enjoy writing, and having a creative imagination helps with loneliness. You can live a thousand lives by writing a better one every day.
The Answer Is
The answer to the question: did I get everything I wanted? Not yet. I have high expectations that, with hard work and perseverance, I will do so in due time. You get what you give, and I am still giving. From Ketchikan, Alaska, with love and determination.
