My dad died this week.
We’ve known it was coming, but it’s so hard.
During our bedside vigil I found an album that I had never noticed before detailing what I thought (at the time) was a crazy-stupid-insane trip he took to Alaska 20 years ago. Sadly I discovered the album after he was no longer able to communicate. Like one hour later.
I so want to talk to him about the trip now, but of course it’s too late. And I had 20 years to do it but did not. I thought the entire excursion was nuts until I found the travel book he created. It’s a detailed scrapbook full of notes that tells the story of a fantastic trip he obviously adored.
He flew to Alaska, spent a few days Halibut fishing with one of my sisters and her friends, and then just went Off.The.Grid.
Literally.
No cell phone, ( at least none of us heard from him) sleeping in his rental car at campgrounds. I asked if he had a tent, he told me the rental car front seat reclined fully. He traveled around Alaska for a month by himself. The album is full of incredible photos of Alaskan wildlife, numerous glaciers, the Arctic Circle. It is a love letter to Alaska. He traveled hundreds of miles on bad roads riddled with pot holes.
I remember that he was still on a post travel high when he returned home, and cooked Halibut Enchiladas for us with the fish he had shipped home.
In hindsight, I wish I had asked him more details about the trip. I had absolutely no idea how much joy he found in his adventure. To me at the time it just sounded very uncomfortable and reckless. But good luck telling a Marine that something MIGHT be a bad idea….
Dad loved to travel, if he had the time, and a plane ticket, he was off.
That, I CAN relate to. Wanderlust is in the Gibbons DNA. My mother was a devoted traveler too, but from her I inherited my love for pretty accommodations -- the kind not provided by Avis Rent A Car.
I’m sure when the topic of “ let’s spend a month in Alaska and camp “ came up with my Mom the conversation went exactly like this:
“Oh Hell No; But You Go RIGHT Ahead John”.
And he did. Good for him.
I’m lucky in my marriage that my husband Sam lets me take off alone when a destination is not appealing to him. Although I think he would question my sanity and Google “Unabomber” if I said I wanted to spend a month sleeping in a rental car in the middle of the most remote parts of Alaska.
So now I’m studying this book, and the typed notes he left. Will I retrace his footsteps? I don’t know, but I’m planning it out.
The last entry is
“THE END OF A WONDERFUL TRIP”
Godspeed Dad.
