What a crazy few weeks it has been. I don't even know where to start...
I guess we'll start with the boat, and the fact that I hate boats. And carnival rides. And windy roads. And really, anything that has the potential to make me vomit from motion sickness, especially while I'm pregnant, so it was not the greatest experience of my life, but the sights were beautiful -- there are no pictures, taken by me or anyone else, that do justice to Alaska. Gods hand is blantantly evident.
For some reason, and I have no idea why, it never occurred to me how many military families there would be traveling on the ferry. There were tons, so Monday afternoon we all drove off the boat in Haines, AK and started heading north. We ended up being the fourth car in a quasi-convoy headed for the border between AK and BC. We had been on the road for about 20 minutes when there was nearly a 20 car pile up because the guy in the lead slammed on his breaks at the sight of 6 bald eagles sitting in the same tree. I can't recall seeing six bald eagles in my entire life, so to see six of them just hanging out in the most popular tree in Haines was amazing. Things went smoothly until we actually reached the border. 20 car loads of Americans pulling up to the gate at the same time was a little overwhelming for the lone Canadian border patrol guy, so thankfully he was kind enough to call in some backup, though we still ended up waiting an hour (by this point we were about car 10) since every other car or so was carrying either some type of contraband that had to be surrendered or a rifle, which required additional paperwork and $25 American for Her Majesty the Queen to put toward Canadian gun control. Just into BC the scenery is beautiful, but as you get closer to the Yukon you notice a few things starting to change -- 1) the scenery is a little less than pleasant 2) the roads get SUPER crappy and 3) the people just keep getting weirder.
If you know me, you probably know how much I like to use the phrase "this is like the beginning of a scary movie". Never have I used that phrase more than I did while we were driving across the Yukon. The motel where we stayed was super creepy and the place that we ate felt like a scene straight out of Sweeney Todd. If you haven't been to the Yukon, you may think that I am exaggerating, since I am fluent in the hearty language of sarcasm, but trust me -- these are very solemn statements. I was elated to cross the border back into Alaska.
So we crossed the border and stayed in the tiny town of Tok and then drove the last four hours to Fairbanks on the last day of our journey. I had to stifle a laugh because everyone that I had spoken to about Fairbanks had told me that there would be no shopping and nowhere to eat. In the same parking lot as the Holiday Inn where we stayed there was Walmart, Chili's, Barnes and Noble, Sportsmens Warehouse, and (much to my hearts delight) Old Navy, among a number of other giant stores.
At this point we've been at Fort Wainwright for four days and so far we really like it. The scenery just can't be beat, even if you can't see anything until the sun comes up at nine. The post offers ridiculous stuff, like both indoor and outdoor ice skating rinks that each have lessons, an on-post skiing/snowboarding/tubing hill, and the #1 rated golf course in Alaska (though the green is currently under about 5 feet of snow). So far John is happy with his unit, and that is really the most important thing.
One of the most intimidating things for me in this move was housing, especially on the tail end of the horrific experience that we had with Balfour Beatty at Fort Carson, where we literally PCS'd without ever being offered a house (privatized Army housing is one of the biggest DOD failures, just fyi). I had nothing to be worried about. Let me preface this whole next section by saying that I made John call the housing office on the first and the person that answered the phone told him that we were first on the list and that there should be a house ready for us by the end of the month. I was elated, only to call the day before we got here and have a different lady (neither of these ladies was the actual lady that monitors the list we were on, btw) tell him that someone had bumped us and she didn't know when we would have a house. My panic button started to flash a little. The next day we went into the housing office, sat down with the person who actually handles our stuff and found out that there are actually 16 E-6/7 four bedroom homes that have been vacated, gutted, and totally renovated and that we would get the first offer. That afternoon she called John and told him that we could move into an end unit (John's special request) on March 1st. This is Divine timing, because the 28th of this month is the last day that the Army will pay us TLA to stay in Army Lodging, and if we had gone beyond that day then we would have had to find an off-post rental, which we were vehemently dedicated to not doing. I'm going to think of it as a special birthday present from God.
So we're generally settled into a suite at the post hotel, trying to get the kids back on schedule, and seeing what Fort Wainwright has to offer. I'll post some pictures soon.
Oh, and by the way, we're open for visitors after the first week in March.
