Sat, 04 Feb 2012
Anchorage, Day 1
My Adventure Begins…
Now I’m in Anchorage, where the snow isn’t afraid of falling and the drivers aren’t afraid of six inches on the roads. What a contrast with Missouri! But I’m getting ahead of myself…
I arrived in the wee hours of the morning on Friday, February 3. The plane was full (I was on the aisle, fortunately, but didn’t get more than fifteen minutes of sleep while in the air), which made things a bit uncomfortable. Fortunately, we landed nearly 30 minutes early… which was also a first for me. Just as I exited the parking garage with my rental car, it started to snow.
And snow.
And snow.
Fortunately, at 02:30 a.m., there aren’t many cars on the roads, so I had plenty of room to get my snow driving skills back up-to-date. Despite the snowfall, it was nearly as bright as daylight — the phase of the moon and the albedo of the snow made it easy to see.
Anchorage is one of the few cities in Alaska that is laid out on a grid, so finding my way around was relatively easy. My Tom Tom came with maps for Alaska, too, so I was able to navigate without any trouble.
Knowing my hotel room wouldn’t be ready for me when I was ready to crash, I drove around, exploring the land in the falling snow, practicing my driving technique, and marvelling at the sheer quantity of snow as it fell.
At about six-thirty in the morning, about six inches had fallen on the roads, and traffic was starting to build up. Being both tired and uncomfortable with the taffic volumes, I decided that the iced-over windshield in my little front-wheel-drive Chevy Aveo wasn’t going to give me enough visibility to compete with rush hour.
So I pulled into the parking lot at the Ramada in downtown Anchorage and approached the front desk. “Good morning!” I said to Angie, the manager in charge. “I know my room won’t be ready, but I have a reservation for tonight. Can you help me out?”
Angela was very accommodating. She said, “The room you reserved won’t be ready until about noon, but I can store your luggage behind the desk here and you can join us for breakfast around the corner.” She also offered a different room in the interim, but I demurred, deciding that I didn’t want to move my luggage twice if I could avoid it. Instead, I said, “If I could just change my shoes, that would be great.”
So I brought my luggage in through the snow (two trips, snow over my knees), commented on the uselessness of wheeled bags in the current conditions (Angie laughed at that), opened up my big bag to get out some dry boots to replace my soaking airport security-friendly shoes, and left everything else with her.
Breakfast wasn’t particulary exciting, although they had the usual oatmeal and hot chocolate packets, a variety of cold juices and milk, boiled eggs, fruit, and muffins. The make-your-own waffle irons were nice; I made a couple and topped ‘em off with syrup and whipped cream.
Later, as I was nodding off for the third or eighth time in the lobby, Angie announced that my room was ready. I dragged my bags onto a luggage cart and into the elevator to my third floor room.
The bed was wonderful, and I slept until about three in the afternoon.
At three, though, I got up, showered, dressed, and looked outside to see what the weather was like.
The snow was still falling.
posted at: 17:06 | permanent link to this entry
Marc Elliot Hall St. Peters, Missouri
Page created: 21 January 2002
Page modified: 31 December 2009
