All who wander...

They say that everyone in Alaska was either born and raised here or running away from something. Who are they, anyway?

Erin: In May 2003, I was a senior in college in Washington, DC. I was majoring in Political Science, living four blocks from the White House, and working for a US Senator. I was looking toward my future, and I was scared. When I searched my heart for what I wanted to do and who I wanted to be, I found myself drawn back to a book I'd read my freshman year of college - Jon Krakauer's Into the Wild. (If you haven't read it, I highly recommend it, and in fact, they're making a movie version of it in Alaska and South Dakota right now.) Chris McCandless went against society's pressures and expectations, and he followed his heart to the wilderness of Alaska. I'd never been in the wilderness, I'd never been to Alaska, and I wasn't sure I'd ever done something so terrifying and exciting. I had to do it. I found some jobs online, applied without much thought, and then one day, I got a phone call from a guy named Fernando in Talkeetna, Alaska. After interviewing with him for a breakfast server position (okay, not entirely in the wild, but an abrupt change from DC nonetheless), he asked me, "So, you want to come up to Alaska for the summer?" My heart was beating out of my chest - no one knew of this dream of mine, and certainly no one expected this out of me - I wondered if I was making a huge mistake - but still I said, "Sure." I remember he laughed at that - "Sure" - and thought I wasn't excited. He had no idea. And so, I ended up getting on a plane in Columbus, Ohio, a week after graduating from college and going to Talkeetna, Alaska. Everyone thought I was crazy, and maybe I was, but it was the best decision I've ever made, even if it seemed like I was running away.

Begee: It was 1996, and I had some friends living in Valdez, Alaska, who I decided to go visit with $200 in my pocket. I didn't get very far. Who knew Alaska was such a long hard drive from Washington? Needless to say, I didn't make it. The next year came and went, and Alaska simmered in the back of my brain. I had just finished a job at a winery in Grand Junction, Colorado - a job that I loved - to look for another winery job in California. The time came to go to California to find another winery job, but oddly enough, watching an episode of The Simpsons brought Alaska back to the forefront. I don't remember much of that episode, but what stuck with me was, if Bart can do it, I can do it. I saw an ad in Outside magazine that said "Come work in Alaska," and I called. Without filling out an application, they offered me a job in Denali National Park. They asked whether I could be there in a week or three weeks. I felt like this was the chance of a lifetime, and I said "I'll be there in a week." My parents thought I was crazy and said I should go for the sure thing in California. After having lunch with my dad at a Chinese restuarant, my fortune cookie said, "It's not too late for a change." My choice had been made. It was the best decision I've ever made, even if it seemed like I was running away.

Erin and Begee: People come to Alaska for all kinds of reasons, and people do seasonal work for all kinds of reasons. We've lived and worked with people from all over the world, people who are young and fresh out of school, people who are retired from their "real lives," people who are truly running from something not so good, and people who have not yet found their direction. We never expected to make this a way of life, but it just kind of happened. Seasonal work, this lifestyle of freedom, just grabs you and won't let go. It gets into your bones and into your heart, much like Alaska.

This summer is Erin's third in Alaska and Begee's eighth. When Erin first came here, she certainly only expected and imagined one summer in Alaska before heading back down the political career path. When Begee first came here, he expected only one season in Alaska and then he too would head back to his career path in the wineries of California. Obviously, it didn't quite happen like that. When we met, we never expected to be anything more than friends for the summer, bar buddies, and email pals, but our relationship, much like seasonal work and Alaska, was stronger than what we expected. We fell in love with each other and this lifestyle and especially the 49th state, the land of the midnight sun.

In early spring, as we worked in snowy Yosemite, debating our summer job opportunities, we both really wanted to go back to Alaska to finish up some of our Alaska goals. We have been lucky in accomplishing so much (and it helps to get comps!). We have seen a humpback whale breaching, we got pulled around a snowy glacier on a dogsled, we climbed a mountain, we've seen bears and moose and sea otters, we've kayaked in the ocean, we've camped out on the beach, we've ridden horses around the bay, we treated ourselves to a meal of fresh Alaskan King Crab, and we've done so much more. We came back here this year, hoping to get Alaska out of our systems, to finish off some goals, and then maybe try a "normal life" for a change. We thought we would save some money (which we actually have!) and leave here satisfied and content. It hasn't really worked like that. Being in Alaska, waking up in the morning and smelling the salty ocean right outside our windows, has only made us want more, and now we're considering staying here for the winter.

Did we run away to Alaska originally? Does everyone? Does it matter? When we look around at the people we've met here, the people we work with, live with, and play with, people who are also away from home and family, people who come together to form our own unique family - even having a baby shower for our friend and co-worker, we don't see people who ran away from something. We see people who ran to something. We, ourselves, also ran to something in coming to Alaska - each other.