The Heavens Declare the Glory of God

Recently, I had the privilege of traveling to Thorne Bay, Prince of Wales Island in the Southeast Alaska Alexander Archipelago.  It remains a world a little off the beaten track.  The location is rich with history of indigenous people, skillfully carved totems, logging and fishing industries and natural beauty.  Sitka Blacktail Deer and black bear abound, fish teem the waters both inland and deep ocean. Dungeness crab and spot shrimp skittle under the quiet bays in "secret" locations carefully guarded.  The tall, deep forests are dense with Sitka Spruce, Yellow Cedar and hemlock.  Spending a week there brought new and inspiring sights and knowledge each day.  

 

I was among a group gathered for some strategic planning but not to get in the way of fishing some of the deep channels of Craig, Warren Island and Sea Otter Sound.  I witnessed displays of flora and fauna that even after living in this state for 45 years, I had never witnessed before.  Whales feeding on herring boiling at the surface, bald eagles skillfully picking fish from the surface, sea lions chasing our catch to the boat, and the tiny fawns running to keep up with their mothers to stay ahead of the black bears and the giant flatfish of deep water being cranked to the surface by sweating humans working tiny winches, were all so wonderful to take in.   

 

 

 

I am not attempting to create a travelogue on the wonders of Prince of Wales Island as I write this so much, but to give some context to my marvel at the incredible work of the God I worship.  I gave much thought to the Psalm of David which says:

Psalm 19:1-4

The heavens declare the glory of God;
And the firmament shows His handiwork.
² Day unto day utters speech,
And night unto night reveals knowledge.
³ There is no speech nor language
Where their voice is not heard.
⁴ Their line has gone out through all the earth,
And their words to the end of the world.

The intricacies of the balance of predator and prey, the tides in sync with the moon, the rains watering the deep green forests, and all with such beauty that words fail to adequately describe.  Some think this is all a “fortuitous accident” but the beholding eye readily identifies design, purpose and intention. 

By definition anything described as an “accident” is ruinous, broken, failed, marred and dysfunctional.  What I experienced was not described by those words.  Beautiful, harmonious, synergetic, robust, and full of wonder more accurately describe the sights and sounds of Prince of Wales Island.  Being immersed in an experience like this also gives me reassurance that the same God of creation is the God that made me and you with the same thoughtfulness of design, purpose and intention.  We are not minor accidents in a world made by accident, but an intentional part of the grand and glorious creation of a thoughtful, caring and immensely powerful Creator.  

I join with the heavens declaring the glory of God.

Beware of Covetousness

There is a post being shared on - where else - Facebook, about the preacher Joel Osteen owning a Ferrari automobile reported to be worth $325,000 or some like figure.  I read the comments and predictably they were pretty negative. 

Now just to let you know where I am with Joel Osteen, I don't know much about him.  I have maybe a time or two watched him on television.  I have not read his books, I don't go to any of his events.  I couldn't tell you anything about him except he lives in Houston, Texas and pastors one of the largest churches in the country.  That is as much as I know.  I am neither a fan nor a detractor. 

Back to what Joel Osteen chooses to drive.  What business is it of ours what he chooses to drive?  What makes me qualified to judge him on his choice of transportation or anything else for that matter?  I think the more important question for me is, why should it matter to me? (It doesn't).

Am I angry because he drives something I can't afford to drive?  Am I offended because he is more successful than I am?  Am I angry because I assume he spent ministry money on his fancy car?  Am I judgemental because I think preachers shouldn't have nice things, or at least nicer than what I have?  Why judge Joel Osteen at all?

Consider these passages from the Bible:

Luke 12:13-15

¹³ Then one from the crowd said to Him, “Teacher, tell my brother to divide the inheritance with me.” ¹⁴ But He said to him, “Man, who made Me a judge or an arbitrator over you?” ¹⁵ And He said to them, “Take heed and beware of covetousness, for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of the things he possesses.”

James 3:16

For where envy and self-seeking exist, confusion and every evil thing are there.

The bottom line of this is also the very ugly thing that is driving the protests and violence in our country.  The bottom line is envy and covetousness.  Check out these definitions to make sure we are all on the same page:

en·vy

noun: envy

a feeling of discontented or resentful longing aroused by someone else's possessions, qualities, or luck.

cov·​et·​ous | \ ˈkə-və-təs

1 : marked by inordinate desire for wealth or possessions or for another's possessions. He looked at his boss's new car with covetous eyes.

2 : having a craving for possession

Is our tendency to judge Joel Osteen born of envy or covetousness?  It's a very important question.  What exactly is wrong with Joel Osteen driving a Ferrari?  Would you feel better if he drove a mini van?  Why?  Where exactly is the line of what he should drive and what he should not drive? Who is qualified to write those rules?  Why do we appoint ourselves as the ones who should be his consultant about his preferred form of transportation? 

If you feel offended by Joel Osteen driving a Ferrari ask yourself some questions.  Did you send him some money for what you thought was for ministry and you think he instead spent it on this car?  I would suggest perhaps that you don't send him any more money if that is what you think he does with it.  If you never sent him any money, why are you upset?  Has he done wrong to you? 

Joel Osteen has written a number of best selling books.  He has presumably made a lot of money from the sales of those books.  Is he not free to spend that money as he would like?  You most likely work hard for your money, how do you feel if other people are critical of how you choose to spend the money you earn?  It is really none of their business.  I think Joel Osteen has the same right to feel it is no one else's business how he spends his money.

Jesus faced criticism from others about how money was spent on him.

Mark 14:3-9

³ And being in Bethany at the house of Simon the leper, as He sat at the table, a woman came having an alabaster flask of very costly oil of spikenard. Then she broke the flask and poured it on His head. ⁴ But there were some who were indignant among themselves, and said, “Why was this fragrant oil wasted? ⁵ For it might have been sold for more than three hundred denarii and given to the poor.” And they criticized her sharply.

⁶ But Jesus said, “Let her alone. Why do you trouble her? She has done a good work for Me. ⁷ For you have the poor with you always, and whenever you wish you may do them good; but Me you do not have always. ⁸ She has done what she could. She has come beforehand to anoint My body for burial. ⁹ Assuredly, I say to you, wherever this gospel is preached in the whole world, what this woman has done will also be told as a memorial to her.”

This fragrant oil, "very costly" was wasted on Jesus!  Just think, this money could have fed many poor people.  The money should have been given to missions!  The outrage! 

Surprise!  Jesus instead commends the woman for what she did.  Does Jesus catch us off guard here?  Shouldn't he be offended by this woman's generosity and act of devotion?  The truth of the matter is the outrage was not over the money not going to the poor but was fueled by envy and covetousness.

John records the true motive masked by the noble outrage:

John 12:5,6

⁵ “Why was this fragrant oil not sold for three hundred denarii and given to the poor?” ⁶ This he [Judas Iscariot] said, not that he cared for the poor, but because he was a thief, and had the money box; and he used to take what was put in it.

Ah, there it is.  Sometimes we are offended and outraged because we want what others have.  Or, we at least think they should not have it because we do not have it.  Think about your situation, someone can be offended by the nice car you drive, or your house that is bigger, or your boat or plane or your nicer clothes, or, or...  We all are in the place of being judged for some perceived favor, advantage or choice that we make.  It's all a trade off.  We have something nice because we chose to cut back in another area or saved or worked hard so we could enjoy something special. 

My thoughts?  Leave Joel Osteen alone.  He doesn't answer to us.  He answers to Jesus just like we do.  Our righteous indignation does not add or detract from what Jesus thinks of Joel getting his groceries in a Ferrari. 

The COVID Chronicles: Riding to Seward during a pandemic

Ha, it was no big deal!  It was like every other time I have ridden to Seward - excellent.  It just lends some drama to mention "pandemic" and since I don't have a lot of drama to add, I thought it would just add some interest to the title.  Sorry.

My fellow pastor friend, Jon just bought himself a motorcycle.  He's a grown man and can make his own decisions, but I like to think I kept up the enthusiasm for him buying his own bike to some degree.  I would send him ads for bikes for sale and talk about how fun it is (which it is) and make sure he saw my posted bike pictures on Facebook.  Maybe I didn't have much to do with it, but at the end of the day, he has a bike.  It's a nice bike, Honda VTX, the 1300 cc model.  I almost bought that very bike just before I found my first Harley Davidson.  He did it right, he bought the bike, signed up for riding classes (3 days worth) and asked a lot of questions about riding gear and whatnot. 

We took a short ride up Funny River Road,14 miles not long after he bought the bike.  It has a few curves and hills but its mostly a nice, not busy little ride that is a nice warm up for longer rides.  It served to keep him motivated about the next bike ride. 

Just a few days go by and he is inviting me to ride with a few men from his church to Seward.  Yes, I would like to go.  So it is set up for mid Sunday afternoon on July 5, the day after 4th of July.  It might not have been the best planning for this reason.  Since the COVID restrictions, Alaskans, like everybody else have been dying to get outside.  Motorhome sales are through the roof, boat sales are through the roof, travel trailer sales are through the roof, you get the idea.  On any holiday weekend the population of the state's largest city tends to descend upon the Kenai Peninsula, this 4th of July even more so.  The point being that as the Monday work day looms, all of the weekend warriors begin their migration back to Anchor Town clogging the highway. 

As I pull onto the Sterling Highway, it is in fact full of large lumbering motorhomes, monster trucks pulling long trailers loaded with multiple 4 wheel off road transportation, trailers with boats sprouting nets and halibut poles like spiny urchins, and little Subaru's with kayaks on top, loaded to the gills with sleeping bags and tents.  I pull into traffic and follow the flow to just north of Soldotna to Big John's Chevron.  I am the first to arrive.  No big surprise here.  I am always the first to arrive.  It is part of my DNA in being a pastor's kid.  We always got to the church before anyone else and stayed until everyone else left.  It's still my pattern.  Even when I am at someone else's church and not in charge or speaking, I just have to get there early and pretty much stay there until everyone is gone.  I can't help it.

Soon another biker pulls up next to me.  This is Randy.  He is a classic looking biker.  Wearing a biker bandana on his head, white handlebar moustache, leather vest, riding a Harley Wide Glide with custom paint.  We visit while we wait.  Not long after Randy's arrival, Sam arrives on his Suzuki Boulevard, a big road bike.  Aaron pulls up on his BMW dual sport and then Pastor Jon arrives on his Honda VTX.  We are a pretty diverse looking group but we are all up for the same thing, a ride to Seward on our bikes. 

We compare some notes, plan to take a break at Tern Lake before continuing on to our chosen destination.  We merge into a break in the traffic.  I have been selected to lead as my bike has cruise control.  This is nice as it keeps the group together better instead of the leader creeping the speed up little by little as you go down the road.  It's really hard to keep a steady speed on a motorcycle, so the cruise control helps regulate that. 

I find the prevailing speed of the traffic and set my cruise control.  Traffic is moving along quite nicely actually and we get down the road at a decent pace.  Leading a group is much different than riding by yourself, especially if you haven't ridden together before.  Not knowing the riding experience of the other riders I decide that we won't pass slow moving vehicles as it will be easier to keep the group together in the busy traffic.  Once we get to Tern Lake, the Sterling highway will T into the Seward Highway, I am betting 90% of the traffic will turn north and we will turn south.  We ride patiently knowing soon the road will be ours.

We arrive at Cooper Landing with the herd and pass Wildman's which is a hornet's nest of activity with every description of truck and trailer, motorhomes, cars and campers all jockeying for position in the long and narrow parking lot.  We don't feel like adding motorcycles to the mix and just keep on going by.  Wildman's is located just south of a completely blind corner.  I am amazed more accidents don't happen there but I don't want to start the trend right now. 

With no undue drama we arrive at Tern Lake.  It takes right at an hour to get here from Soldotna.  A rule of thumb is to take a break from riding every hour.  That's somewhere around 50 miles or a little more.  It has been an hour and the idea of stretching our legs sounds really good. 

We pull up together and park our bikes, dismount stiff-leggedly and begin to walk around a bit.  It's a great excuse to pull some snacks out of the tour pak.  Beef jerky it is.  Several in the group take some to chew on and we gather for an awkward selfie to memorialize the trip.

A nice Russian lady sees us lamely attempting to get our own picture and offers to take it for us.  Sure!  Thank you!  She takes some off center pictures with several of our phones.

She then tells us that she is a reporter for the largest Russian language newspaper in Portland, OR.  I don't know how many Russian language newspapers there are in Portland, but good enough.  Now she wants to know what we think of all of the Black Lives Matter riots, monument and memorial defacing and "protests" going on in the US.  She chooses Jon to give the answers as she videos him on her iPhone 11.  Jon gives some dialogue and she seems to be satisfied and bids us "good luck" in her thick Russian accent. 

We mount our bikes and start them with the popping and drumming sounds that all of those tailpipes emit.  It is literally only 100 yards to the T and just our luck, not one car, motorhome or monster truck has turned south.  We get to the front of the line and have the road completely to ourselves.  It is beautiful.  There is temptation to up the speed a little but I know that the "thin blue line" will be out in force this weekend doing their job, so we keep it in line.  Occasionally there are a few vehicles in the northbound lane making their way home from their weekend in Seward.  In our lane, just open highway.  It is so nice.

Soon, we arrive at the community of Moose Pass which has a strict 35 mph speed limit from just outside of town not only on the official speed limit signs but painted on the road itself. The 35 mph speed limit proceeds through town and just to the other side of town which we observe.  It's a good thing because the thin blue line is having a chat with someone wasn't observing the signs right where the limit goes from 35 to 45 mph.  Soon we are back up to road speed and passing beautiful scenery like the Trail Lakes.  There are people laying on air mattresses in the near freezing water and I honk my silly sounding horn on my bike as we pass and I wave to them.  Honestly, I don't know why Harley Davidson puts such an un-manly sounding horn on their flagship motorcycles. It sounds more appropriate to my grandson's bike with training wheels.  I suppose Harley Davidson's clever marketing strategy is to embarrass their buyers to the point of upgrading to the more manly sounding (more expensive) version.  I've almost done it a time or two, but I just swallow my pride and keep my money in my pocket.

We soon emerge alongside Kenai Lake which is fabulous scenery.  The road here is fun as it snakes tightly against the mountainside and lake.  Not a lot of margin here to run off the road, it is either steep straight up or down.  As we take the nice curves, I know my favorite section of the road is coming up.  There is a sweeping right hand curve from the uphill approach that turns into the bridge that crosses the Snow River which empties into Kenai Lake.  It is banked ever so perfectly and I can't resist.  At the top of the hill I put the hammer down, shifting into my last gear and indulge myself in the moment.  Soon I am across the bridge and the group is in the far distance behind me.  I purposely slow to allow them to catch up and we proceed on.

This section of the highway is grandly scenic. There are still snow capped peaks, lush forests, lily pad choked ponds and four lanes.  It is so enjoyable on a bike, plus it is steep going up and then steep on the long descent into Seward. 

Speaking of Seward, we have arrived.  A large lighted portable highway sign informs us that Seward is now requiring COVID masks inside every public building.  Seward has had a big increase in positive COVID tests and the city fathers are concerned.  I am a bit concerned myself as I forgot to even bring a mask and I am hungry.  I can't let a little COVID stand between me and dinner! 

We are saved.  There was a little outdoor BBQ place right on the side of the road as you enter town.  Good enough I think, and I lead the group into the BBQ parking lot.  It sure smells good even inside my helmet.  We all pull in and park our bikes.

The menu is tacked on the posts of the little sheltered eating area.  The prices are not bad which is a surprise, summer prices in little towns like this can really get high as the business owners rake the tourists who have money to burn.  I can't blame them, it is their one chance to make it before the long less income months of fall and winter.  I select the combination meal for $12.  I get a brisket sandwich, a side of coleslaw and a tea.  I am asked if I want jalapeno's and coleslaw on my sandwich.  Sure! I reply.  I guess I didn't see the fine print because those two choices up the price $2.  With the tip, I pay $16.  I wanted to tell them they should comp me the meal as I, like a bus driver, lead the group to their establishment.  Oh well, I am hungry and the meal is delivered in the open air eating area quickly.  It is good. 

Seward is quite chilly tonight.  It is clear we are in for a change of weather and the wind has come up and the temperature has dropped.  The day before, the 4th of July I actually managed to get my knees sunburned sitting in the 75 degree sun.  High clouds began moving in about mid day and it looks like it could actually rain on the way home.  I rode to Seward wearing my leathers, a long sleeved t-shirt and a leather vest.  It felt just fine.  However, I am thinking my leather riding coat feels like the right choice for the ride home. 

We all finish our meals and head to the harbor area as we begin our journey home. 

We use the public facilities and get on our bikes when Jon mentions we should ride up to the Exit Glacier road.  I haven't been up that road in many years so I think it's a good idea too.  We ride the 7 miles in at the posted speed limits of 25, 35 and 45 miles per hour.  It is a beautiful ride, I forget how beautiful it is up at the Exit Glacier.  It is also substantially warmer and I almost think it was a mistake to have donned my riding jacket.  We get to the visitors center and stop for a moment.  

We passed a photo pull out on the way in and we agree to stop there and take some pictures.

It is getting a bit late in the evening by now and our thoughts are pretty much about getting home.  The traffic has fortunately remained almost nonexistent.  The climb out of Seward is beautiful and as we eventually turn back onto the Sterling Highway both lanes are nearly empty of traffic.  We stop after an hour at Wildman's which has quieted down considerably for a snack and a coffee while we rest ourselves.

We agree that on the way home we will all peel off wherever is closest to where we live so there will be no need to backtrack or have a formal farewell.  The trip back is on mostly recently improved highway, wider and newer, it makes room for everyone with better visibility and passing lanes.  Not long and I am by myself, the last one to get home.  I take the long route as I want to go via Bridge Access Road which crosses the beautiful flats at the mouth of the Kenai River.  The grasses that grow there are at their peak, green/yellow hues intersected by the Kenai River with the mountains as the backdrop.  After living here 32 years, the view never gets old. 

Soon I am on the final leg home feeling good about the ride and escaping the dread COVID virus once again.

Another Fine Day Ride to Hope

Having pretty limited destination options on the Kenai Peninsula means that I tend to ride to the same destination more often than I like, as I enjoy different scenery and the discoveries to be made in a new location.  Being that we are just now ending the restrictions of the corona virus and the rules that kept us home and sequestered for months and the fact that the last summer's riding season in Alaska was prevented by one of the most ferocious wildfire seasons and further hampered by ubiquitous road construction, I am willing to ride anywhere I can.  Lots of pent up desire to be on my bike makes for willingness to go to just about anywhere no matter how many times I have been there before.

Hope, Alaska is a tiny place.  It is home to a hearty few, a place mostly undiscovered by the wealthy that like to build "summer cabins" with fantastic views and privacy.  It is the place where the Resurrection River empties into Turnagain Arm and in the later months of summer, hosts a tremendous run of pink salmon.  Surprisingly, there is a public school  ("Home of the Huskies") a couple of cafe's and a very small store.  Perhaps if I spent more time in Hope I would discover much more but for a momentary traveler like myself, it is mostly what is on the main drag through town that gets seen.  The state of Alaska maintains a pretty campground at the official "end of the road" that I intend to come back and camp in some day as well.  Those are the highlights.  Hope really isn't the motivation to the ride, although I would like to justify the reason to go there if I could ever get there when the cafe' that serves pie was open.  I seem to show up only when the doors are shut.  The impetus for the ride is the journey as they say.  It is a beautiful trip.

From where I live, Hope is only a little over a 200 mile trip.  Half a day at best if you don't spend a lot of time looking around.  From my home, you travel through Soldotna, Sterling, Cooper Landing and Sunrise, all in descending order of population as well as sequence.  All are charming in some way and offer activities that make getting there worth the trip.

On this trip, we had recently emerged not only from the 'rona travel restrictions, but from a rainy period that didn't seem like it was going to quit anytime soon.  I found myself unexpectedly free from responsibility for a full day with the promise of warmth and sun before me.  I left my home around 8:30 am and worked my way through Soldotna (Saul-dot-na) a little surprised at how light traffic was on this Friday.  I soon blinked and Sterling was behind me as well.  I really don't consider myself "out of town" until I am north of Sterling as the cluster of Nikiski, Kenai, Soldotna and Sterling are all pretty close to each other and pretty familiar.  So, as I drop into third gear and power up the little hill as you leave Sterling, I head toward the "flats" where most of the wildfire activity took place last summer. 

The fire burned hot and fast leaving all of the little black spruce trees (that's a variety of spruce) blackened, denuded of needles and the entire forest strewn down on the ground like so many matchsticks spilled from a box.  Perhaps a silver lining to some, the morel mushrooms grow well in recent wildfire areas and the pickers are already out enmasse.  The sides of the Sterling Highway are lined with cars with no one in sight. 

I am in no particular hurry as I reach the newly completed re-paved, widened two-lane road with strategically placed passing lanes, section of the Sterling Highway.  It is marvelous.  There is nothing a biker likes more than fresh asphalt.  I ascend into the hills that rise from the flats and continue unimpeded through Jean Lake, past the upper Skilak Lake Loop Road and The Russian River.  As I approach Cooper Landing, I anticipate what is coming.  I slow, gear down to the 35 mph posted speed limit as I begin to snake through this little community right on the beautiful Kenai River.  I crack open by face shield on my helmet and breath deeply.  The aroma of freshly leafed trees and alders is heavily fragrant in the air.  It always is this time of year.  I love the smell.  It is an aroma that doesn't last more than a couple of weeks at best and won't be back for another year.  To me it is almost itself worth the trip.

A small caravan of campers and cars with kayak racks on top begins to form as the slower speed limit tends to bunch us up.  I have a plan as one of the best sections of road is just ahead and I like to ride it with no other vehicles in front of me.  I turn off the Sterling Highway onto Snug Harbor Road which is right where Kenai Lake becomes the Kenai River.  Right away, there is another turn off to the left where Kenai Lake Baptist Church has been for many years.  It is deserted today and quiet, a perfect place to get off the bike, stretch my legs and wait for the caravan of cars and campers to get far ahead.

It's a beautiful little log church, it looked like it had been where it is a long time when I moved to the Kenai Peninsula 32 years ago.  I don't think much has changed.  Modern convenience seems to still have passed them by and traditional touches are evident.

 An Alaskan "cache" serves as the bell tower.  Indoor plumbing has yet to arrive.

The church "fellowship hall" has one of the most beautiful views anywhere.

I am surprised that this church is still here.  Not because it may not have a robust congregation, but because of it's location.  My surprise is that some wealthy person has not bought their location and built a gate accessed baron's lodge in the church's place.  The pictures from my iPhone 10 just don't capture the wealth of beauty this spot is.  I am pleased the church hasn't sold out.

I don my helmet and jacket again and enter the highway gain.  Open and empty, just the way I like it.  I slowly cross the bridge admiring the turquoise blue of the Kenai river and then wind my way through the rest of Coooper Landing following the lakeside path of the road.  The road here is very narrow and as I approach my favorite stretch, it appears even more narrow with the trees encroaching on both sides.  Serpentine curves, uphill grade turn to tighter curves and a downhill grade.  It is glorious for a bike rider and I have it all to myself.  Understand, I'm riding a touring bike, a Harley Davidson FLHTCU (whatever that stands for) Ultra Glide.  It is built for comfort, riding distances, interstates and the like.  On curves and such it isn't in its best element but I can pretend I am on a Japanese crotch rocket laying over with my knee a centimeter from the pavement.  I'm not, but that is the way it feels and I like it.  Too soon I am through the curves and at Sunrise which I pass by without a stop. 

Just a few miles down the road I reach the intersection of the Seward Highway and the Sterling Highway at Tern Lake.  It's a beautiful location.  I heard a few years back, that there was a plan afoot to designate Tern Lake a national monument with and accompanying cash flow to put hiking paths and platforms around the lake to better experience it's beauty.  It must have been a rumor because it is still beautiful but no hiking paths or platforms yet.

Just a rather crusty pullout with crumbling asphalt and gravel sort of haphazardly there next to the lake.  I pause just a moment to snap a picture and again am on my way.  The dilemma of riding in Alaska is that there are so many picture worthy views that were a person to stop and take those pictures, you would never get anywhere.  So, I take a few and attempt to describe the rest.

I am now in Turnagain Pass.  The hills have turned to mountains to which snow fields still cling heavily and will into most of the summer before being renewed next winter.  Good snow pack provides lots of water that become the streams and rivers and lakes that grace the views from the road.  Upper Summit lake comes up soon.

The lodge and cafe here doesn't look like it will open this year due to the 'rona.  After last summer's devastating fires on the peninsula these small business places may dry up and not come back, a very sad prospect.  Two hard summers of no income is not a hardship many can overcome.

Lower Summit Lake is not far.  It has always had one of the most iconic "Alaskan" views of a rustic cabin on a lakeside that can been appreciated from the road that I have ever seen.  I don't know who owns these little places but I have to admit to some envy.

The traffic is still light as I head on to the "Hope Cutoff" and to my destination for the day.  The bike is performing well as I climb the grades and lean into my curves.  I finally see the sign:

 At last, I'm at the cutoff.  I signal left and leave the Seward Highway and turn onto the Hope Road. 

I don't know it at this point, in fact, it is too much to ask or think would ever happen.  For the next 15 miles I do not encounter a single vehicle in my lane.  This is a bikers dream.  The road to Hope is very curvy, offers incredible views of mountain, stream and inlet.  I go as fast as I want and as slow as I want - I tailor my speed to the road and relish every moment.  I don't know if this will ever happen again, but it is happening now and I am not going to waste the moment.  It is still early in the day on this Friday and with the 'rona restrictions recently lifted I am thinking people must not be out and about yet.  Something to keep in mind for future trips. 

Almost with reluctance I see the quaint sign that announces I have arrived at my destination.  I don't stop in town just yet, I go on to the end of the road where the Porcupine Campground entrance is.  This is a lovely site and I do intend to camp here some day.  Some campsites are in deep tall birches and some are near the bluff on Turnagain Arm.  No matter which site you choose, they are all good.  There is a easy hiking trail that goes along the Arm at the end of the campground that affords a great day activity.

I make my way through the campground and head into "town" just to check the scenery again.  It never disappoints.  Hope was a "turn-of-the-century" (the 19th one) gold rush town in it's heyday.  Thousands of gold seekers landed here to find their fortune for a year or two and then moved on.  It's a common history in Alaska.  The few who where early and vested stayed on to work their mines and live their way of life they carved from this wilderness.  It's nostalgic and a "historic district" of remnant homes still stand, some of their current owners are descendants of their hardy ancestors.  The places are kept with meticulous effort, gardens, lawns and very tidy. 

I am hungry and the Cafe' is not open for another hour and is only serving "take out".  Not what I have in mind.  I decide to take my time going back and look for other offerings. 

Almost immediately I find that the population must be waking up and moving about.  There are a few cars on the road now, not a lot, probably more like usual when I come to Hope.  I am taking my time so I only pass one car as I take the winding way back to the Seward Highway. 

I am soon there and watching the rpm's on my tachometer wind up as I climb out of the 6 Mile River valley.  I am thinking I will stop at Gwin's Lodge on the way back for lunch.  Gwin's is a long established lodge on the Kenai River in the Cooper Landing area.  I have eaten here before and it is good.  I am already thinking that a bacon cheeseburger is what I am hungry for.  I can't get there too soon.  I round the corners and pass another less long established business that is incredibly popular, Wildman's.

What it lacks in aesthetics it more than makes up in rest rooms.  Plus it serves corn dogs, chicken nuggets, cheese sticks and hand scooped ice cream.  People stand in lines inside for their turn to purchase.   I move on to Gwin's as I have other ideas for lunch.  Down the road only a couple of miles Gwin's comes into view. 

It's a little more traditional than Wildman's and just what I am looking for.  I back my bike into a front parking spot and take my helmet and jacket off.  I am surely hungry.  As I look to make my way in, I see a sign, "take out only".  Hmmm.  Not what I had in mind.  As I round the corner to find the take out window, a gentleman comes out of a side door and tells me they are not ready to serve food yet (the sign said open at 12 noon) because of "technical difficulties" unspecified.  Misfire.  Hungry as ever, I mount the Ultra again and head down the road to home assured that I will not starve to death on the way as I have stored calories up against this very circumstance.  I do feel like I will be 10 pounds lighter by the time I get home. 

The trip out is different from the trip in.  Everybody is up.  Traffic and bugs.  As I make the miles home the multi spectrum of bug guts fill my face shield.  State road crews are out and holding up traffic, an Alaskan tradition.  They are painting stripes on the new asphalt and Caterpillars are landscaping the slopes that descend to the road.  I have no agenda so I am patient and figuring my 25th place in line will not allow the freedom of the road I enjoyed so much earlier in the morning.  But, it is warm and dry and I am on my bike.