The 29-foot Tioga held us all comfortably as a manager briefed us
on its features:
microwave oven, beds for six, stand-up shower,
propane range, and a refrigerator that runs off propane. He showed
us how to fill the water tanks, drain the sewage tanks, and keep
the twain from ever meeting. Then he gave the toilet a test flush,
flipped on the fridge, tossed me the keys, and walked out. She was
all ours.
We tossed our gear aboard, got the girls strapped into their car
seats around the kitchen table - within reach of sippy cups and
crayons - and lumbered off. First stop: shopping center.
The difference between provisioning a backpack and provisioning an
RV is the difference between a Zen tea ceremony and a Super Bowl
tailgate party. On the trail, I've been known to pack a single
candy bar as a week's worth of dessert, having stripped away the
unnecessary outer wrapper to lighten my load. In
Alaska, we engaged
in a sort of grocery store bacchanal, quickly filling two carts
with goods both weighty and perishable: fresh vegetables, beer,
wine, ice cream, and a bag of chips.
Fully loaded, we made our way south, shedding the
Anchorage suburbs
and finally having time to gaze at the panorama framed by our wide
picture windows. The saw-blade edge of mountains loomed over the
rough green waters of Turnagain Arm, and we stopped at a forested
pull-off to ogle the view and cook lunch.
A CATHEDRAL OF OLD-GROWTH EVERGREENS
It's our first night, shakedown night, and we're heading for Hope,
a tiny coastal village on the peninsula. At an all-but-deserted
campground overlooking the water in the Chugach National Forest, we
feel our way through the small challenges of making an RV work
properly. I'm surprised to find myself delighted, with both the
gizmos and the setting; I had feared a parking lot experience,
paved and crowded and anti-natural. Instead, I marvel at one of the
most secluded campsites I've seen in my life, a jaw-dropping view
of the inlet made lovelier by the scent of garlic sauce simmering
on the stove, the joyous giggles of two kids bouncing on the big
double bed, and the indulgence of a wilderness cocktail hour
featuring single malt and actual ice. Mechanized camping has its
perks.