
Ranger Randy stands impressively tall at six-feet-and-change even without his hiking boots on.
This afternoon, however, he is wearing them. From here up close I judge their vintage to be about 1988 - the same year as the Toyota pickup he drives around Gustavus, Alaska.
I know these facts because, contrary to what it looks like and not following logically from our conversation seconds ago about traveling through India in the 1960's, I am not doing darshan at his feet. Although, had abject obeisance brought me to my currently prone position I probably would be experiencing a greater sense of dignity than at this moment.
The small towns of Alaska and the era or Paul Bunyan both nurture the "tall-tale" instinct. I will nurture that impulse aboard the Sea Wolf in coming days. At that point I will explain how I came to be folded into a quadriplegic heap here in front of the ticket counter and on the floor somewhere to the left of the wheelchair provided to me by Excursion Air.
For the moment I must sign off and catch a boat from here in Somewhere- Beyond- the Border-of-Litigation-Territory, Alaska, USA.
Posted by rollingrains at May 25, 2008 11:56 PM