MY 50TH STATE
A few years ago, I realized I was getting pretty close to having been to all 50 states. I decided that of the few I had remaining, Alaska easily seemed like the coolest. As I kept chipping away at the others, I also started making plans to get to Alaska ahead of my 30th birthday.
I thought it would be really cool to rent some large cabin and invite several friends to share the celebration.
Then we got pregnant and put it off one year.
But then a pandemic happened.
And then we got pregnant with twins.
Finally, this year, we made good on that quest and I finally checked off state number 50! And we did have some amazing friends who weren’t intimidated by traveling with three kids under three. Jesse & Raquel, you two rock.
I’m extremely glad I saved Alaska for the very end. The knowledge that its mountains, forests, and tundras stretched on until the very top of the world was invigorating. This was a really, really good trip. Well worth the wait.
I’ve met so many other American travelers who tried to pass themselves off as Canadian. Or who introduce themselves as Californian, Washingtonian, etc… trying to disavow the baggage that comes with the national identity. Travel enough, and you’ll see it too.
I’ve always had a mixed reaction to seeing this, and I’ve never been able to explain why. Like, I get it. The U.S. does plenty to invite valid criticism, and you get tired of having all the other nationalities staying in your hostel explaining this to you as if you personally authorized the coup.
Meeting people from other countries, especially countries that have had particularly bad and oppressive regimes, have kind of changed how I see this. I’ve met people speak proudly of being Zimbabwean, speak critically of the dictatorship, then share their hopes, worries, and what they were doing to create change. Their commitment to action didn’t come from distancing themselves from their national identity, but from refusing to surrender it to those who used it to harm others.
I know it’s a complicated thing, but I do think having a sense of belonging to a place and people is a good starting ground for positive change.
When I learned Alaska’s nickname was the Last Frontier… it struck a chord. Looking back, it’s kind of a loaded moniker, but at the time it stood out because I was only 4 or 5 states away from seeing all 50, and I just knew I was supposed to save Alaska for the very end.
I wanted to finish with a bang. I also wanted to celebrate the milestone with friends and figured it’d be much easier to convince people to join me in Alaska than North Dakota.
Truly, I’m glad I saved it for the end, because despite it being my last state… it’s hopefully the first of many visits to Alaska. It’s such a large state that simply dropping in on one spot within will still leave a lot left to explore.
Who knows when I’ll be back in Alaska, but I really wouldn’t mind if it were sooner rather than later.
Plus, I’m unusually fond of cold places.
Alaska was a whole nother level of beautiful.
I always feel so much more alive whenever I have mountains and forests in my line of sight. Do you get that? I don’t know how else to describe it, but there’s just a different feeling around mountain ranges that takes over and I was definitely feeling that up north. Even more so, knowing that the forests and mountain ranges I saw would just keep going on and on, up until the northern edge of the world.
Getting to sink my hands into the earth and seeing the deep black arctic soil reminded me so much of the richness of Iceland’s beauty, and I think I just have a thing for the far north and Arctic ecosystems. That said, I also like the far south… so maybe I’m just a fan of extremes.