We arrived at our second stop, one step closer to Denali, Alaska. The Northern lights shone brightly through the tall rectangular windows of the boat, but I was even more excited about staying two nights in Denali because of the absence of light pollution. Someone told me the experience was unforgettable, and since then, I've been addicted to having it. The noise from down the hall grew louder, crushing my spirits. I grabbed my book bag from the floor and hurried toward the exit to avoid the crowd. As I exited, the Royal Caribbean staff smiled and bid farewell, gesturing to guide me down the gangplank and toward the buses to our lodge. I bought a 14-day cruise-tour online, a land-and-sea package with a motorcoach, park excursions, and river rafting—an ultimate midlife adventure.
My hasty escape from the ship saved me from frostbite and the cruel chill that came off the ocean. I was thankful the ship's crew handled my luggage; the last thing I wanted was to haul it in this cold weather.
I shivered, pulling my jacket tightly around my waist, and cursed under my breath as pins and needles shot through my fingertips. My hands tremble as I patiently wait for the bus driver to open the doors. A few seconds later, he finally recognized me standing there, and the bus hissed as the doors released. I scurried up the narrow steps of the bus and scuffled to the back before anyone else could claim a window seat. I took my book pack off and placed it next to me. I only took the essentials: food, a toothbrush, a book in case I got bored, and my cell phone. I picked up my cellphone, the screen was black, and for a good reason. When I started the trip, I decided to keep it off and use it only in emergencies. I wanted solitude, I needed time, and no contact with the outside world was what I wanted. The thought of turning it on and receiving these questions about why I did what I did deeply troubled me. I threw my head back and chucked it back in my bag. Out of sight, out of mind.
It took a while for people to settle into their seats. As I waited, my heart became more unsettled. My gut twisted. I scratched my neck, my body tensing, as I gripped it. Something I have always carried was now missing. I felt naked. "Let it go, Anna!" I mumbled under my breath. "Lay it to rest, don't look back." I breathed out heavily and stared up, catching a faint glimpse of the Northern lights.
Before I had a complete panic attack, the engine finally began to rumble. I sighed in relief. Our bus busseled through quirky villages, and our vehicle clunked through bumpy roads. The towns we passed were almost empty; it was late at night, and only a handful of people walked the streets. I suppose only the bars were active. The scenery was untamed and rugged. I thanked God for the Northern lights, as they cast shadows on mountain peaks. The lights allowed me to see glimpses of what was to come in the morning. I desperately tried to keep my eyelids open as we traveled towards our destination, but the Bus's heat blasted, leaving me drained and sleep-deprived. I could not fight my tender eyes any longer.