Homer: The Beach Cottage

 

 

 

Starting from where we left off a couple of days ago…

The moment we snapped the computer shut, this dude that looked exactly like Bear Grylls came into the kitchen at the hostel and started making himself some cereal. We said hello and he responded very warmly in a British accent. If that wasn’t cool enough, we asked him what he had been doing in Alaska and he told us he had summited Denali…extremely cool! Both a little star-struck, we walked to get some sausage biscuits and coffee at a little restaurant down the street, and then walked to the expressway, where we expected to get a ride to Homer. Turns out Homer is 210 miles (or so) from Anchorage and we had been kidding ourselves, so we managed to finagle our way onto a van-shuttle (on which we were entertained by the ex-logger Gary, the homeless cowboy/veteran/pothead Mike, the two Goths Sarah and Kayla, and the British sailor woman who knew, literally, everything).  Our driver stopped to smoke a lot, so we didn’t pull into Homer until 8:30 pm, but Mike (a friend of Bekah’s ) was waiting for us with a big ol’ box of Alaskan Amber. Amazing.

Mike, in his infinite hospitality, had hooked up an awesome connection and we have spent the last two days sleeping at this amazing beach cabin that is only accessible by 4-wheeler. We got to hang out with a family called the Weatherly’s, who were inspiring, a lot of fun (so much so that we’re already matchmaking the two dudes with our friends!), and a huge blessing for our first few days in Alaska. As I type, we are sitting in Mike’s yurt waiting for him to finish getting ready so we can go to church with him. Rumor has it we’re going out on a boat after that. Alaska is “cool.”

Bumper Sticker in Homer:

“We’re here because we’re not all there!”