Alaska: Day 19: 7-24-93: A "Marathon Family" Forms

Thankfully, this morning was a little more laid back. I even had time to pee and snatch a quick breakfast of scrambled eggs and pancakes (DEEE-licious! -- I'll never knock "army rations" [or at least, air force rations] again) before attending to my tasks. The day played out much like yesterday, including the rain and Andre's victory (though he won only by a split second this time, as Tony was neck-and-neck with him the entire length of the 2nd leg).

----Andre Gets Iced Down By Volunteers After 2nd Leg Victory----
(Tony and Michel, Who Placed 2nd And 3rd Today, Are In Back)

The daily Anchorage and Fairbanks newspapers both had cover stories (with big color photos) on the wheelchair marathon, including excerpts from an interview I had witnessed the day before. Lew Friedman, a sport's writer for The Anchorage Daily, and one of the reporters covering the event, handed me a copy of the paper and we chatted for quite a while. During the course of our conversation, it started pouring, and I mentioned my forgotten raincoat. As luck would have it, Lew said that he was travelling to Fairbanks today, and he kindly offered to retrieve my raincoat and bring it to me tomorrow. I thanked him profusely!

As always, Jen and I had trouble with the trailer. If it's not one thing, it's another. Today's issues included a faulty refrigeration unit and a temperamental pilot light -- it took us forever to get hot water! But the main hitch is . . . the hitch -- detaching and reattaching the trailer is a nightmare, and it continues to swerve too much for my liking.

The mosquitoes were another problem, but I've given up trying to conquer them (just try not to take too much of my blood, okay?).

But in the scope of things, these are really trivial complaints. All in all, it was quite an enjoyable day, and I can honestly say that I feel a part of something truly unique and wonderful. I spent much of the evening just observing our camp -- with the myriad of tents gathered in a comfy cluster, and every one eating / working / playing together, it's as if we are all members of some bygone Utopian commune. We're definitely growing closer every day, and despite the occasional chaos and mishaps, I'm glad to be a member of this new "family."