Woman Retreat

After work on Friday, Mom called the Talkeetna Roadhouse for availability. Nothing…well, we could buy a bed in the bunk room. Mom decided to buy all the beds in the bunk room to avoid spending the night with any random travelers. By 9 o'clock that night, we rolled into my arguably favorite Alaskan town, Talkeetna, where we spent the next 25 minutes yoked by the intention to eliminate the hord of mosquitos that threatened to poison our sleep in our private bunk room.

River at the end of the main street.
These guys know how to be.

The next morning, we sat at breakfast family style with a Belgian woman with a notebook, an elderly couple with strong opinions about f***ing Republicans, and an employee of Uncle Sam who longs to escape the prison of Fairbanks winters.
The rest of the day, Mom and I walked up and down the main street which is about three blocks long—and the only street in town. We paused only to sit on a bench in the delightful sun, legs extended and faces turned up to welcome the warmth of the day.