Fairbanks

I awoke the next morning to skies that, if not clear, were at least hopeful of being so by later in the day. The tent was amazing dry considering the weather from the previous night, and with a quick dry down with a synthetic towel, I was able to pack out the tent, and everything else, and be on my way.

I was too tired the night before to care that I was sleeping next to an airport.

The trip to Fairbanks was surprisingly dull compared to the previous day's riding. Or, with everything that I had seen while passing through British Columbia and the Yukon, perhaps my level of expectation was rising. After crossing through mountain passes nowhere near as big as the ones I had encountered in Kluane National Park, the road leveled out, and thick forest lined either side of the road. This went on for miles, and it afforded me the opportunity to relax a bit, not having to resist the urge to look in all directions at once or pull over at every turn to take pictures.

Most of the view to Fairbanks; pavement and trees.

Apparently Alaskans aren't too keen on reserved parking...

When I reached the city limits of Fairbanks, I felt the immediate change. I hadn't been in a city of any significant size since Seattle, and even though Fairbanks is nowhere near that level of urban grandeur, it was a stark contrast to all that I had been encountering for well over a week. The traffic thickened, street lights slowed the pace, and all of a sudden I didn't feel like I was crossing the last frontier anymore. I readjusted my mindset to city driving, directing my attention more towards careless drivers than renegade moose.

After a quick stop at a coffeehouse for a chai and free internet, I made my way to Billie's Backpackers Hostel, located on the northern edge of town, close to the University district. I had opted to pitch my tent in the back yard for $10 a night, as opposed to the $28 they were charging to sleep in one of the bunk rooms. I was already getting used to sleeping in the tent, and there didn't seem like any reason to spend more than I needed to; especially considering that all of the amenities of the hostel (shower, internet, kitchen) were available to me either way.

Billie's Backpacker's Hostel. Yeah, I thought the same thing when I saw it.

There's that tent again...

After a short drive to get the lay of the land, passing through the university campus, I stopped at Subway for dinner. Apparently the Subway in Fairbanks only offers the $8 footlong, not the $5 footlong that we enjoy on the east coast; ruining both the franchise's attempt at alliteration and my desire to get a bargain. I returned to the hostel, brushed off my disappointment, and settling in for an evening of catching up on emails and blogging.

The vibe at Billie's was very different than I had experienced from the other hostels I have stayed in over the years. There were quite a few people staying there that, for lack of any other way of describing it, seemed far too comfortable there, and I wondered just how long some of them had taken up residence. Since the vast majority of travelers are using hostels simply as a means of crashing for a night or two before moving on, there is usually a commradary in that shared sense of adventure that makes everyone feel welcome in a house full of strangers. At Billie's, I felt more like I was intruding; an unexpected house guest that no one had the heart to turn away, but were more than content to ignore. Most of the hostelers were slumped over laptops, and some looked like they had been in the same spot for days. I was hoping that the Israeli couple, Edo and Shira, would show up to break the solitude, but they were nowhere to be found. I went to bed that night committed to moving on the next day, and if all would go as planned, I would easily be in the town of Manley by the early afternoon.

I had no idea how wrong I was going to be.