Autumn in Denali is breathtaking; however, not like Rocky Mountain National Park breathtaking, as in taking breath. Breathtaking as in eye-popping and wonder-filled.

It’s pretty cool to walk outside your room at midnight and look at the night sky northern lights.

We have met new species of humans who do not live as we do. They work the summers in Alaska and the winters in Hawaii, spouting off facts and interesting information about this park or that site, driving those of us with popping eyes around in tour buses, or they wait tables or barista in the coffee places until the season is over. Fascinating world…

Never have I ever been so disturbed and startled as here in Alaska. Between standing beside an Alaskan Railroad engine when it decides to blow its horn, to flushing a toilet in Alaskan restrooms, probably the scariest thing in the history of vacations because it sounds like it is a toilet with a jet engine blasting its way down to China, my heart needs a vacation from the disturbing and the startling. Holy suction, Batman.

If you own a business at the top of the world where gray-headed people congregate, relax, and sight see, you can charge pretty much whatever you want for your goods and services. Holy wallet suction, Batman.

It is fairly inspirational to sit at the back of a bus with a couple from Fargo, North Dakota, who have lived all over the world, and to hear Mrs. Fargo comment on the beauty of Denali by saying, “Wow, how great Thou art, how great Thou art. There are no other words…”

Everyone should experience seeing grizzly bears in the wild, even if it is from the window of a reconfigured school bus.

Our time is nearing the end in the 49th state, and we are on our way to Fairbanks, our last destination. I am very, very grateful for all of these new experiences and for the opportunity to see God’s Alaska once again.

What makes people so negative in their thinking and conversation?

Spend two weeks traveling with the same people on a ship, on a bus, on a train, on a catamaran, and you quickly learn to avoid their pattern.

I’d rather spend the moments of each day that I will never get back by focusing on laughter and beauty and helping others and inclusion rather than exclusion, acceptance rather than rejection…

Today, I am grateful for young people and seasoned people who have chosen to not let life just pass them by but have chosen to experience new and embrace “if not now, then when,” by spending their summers working in these Princess/Holland America resorts and ski resorts and tourist destinations. What a hoot we’re having, visiting with international students and newly retireds and young graduates and bucket-listers who left normalcy in Florida or South Carolina or New Mexico or Serbia or Jamaica or China to work in Alaska for four months.

I am grateful for a husband who is an early riser. 4:30 am is the perfect time for hot chocolate in front of a fireplace, waiting on Denali to wake up.

I am grateful to be in the 30% Club. Didn’t know it was a thing. But it’s a thing and we are now a thing, too. Did you know it is rainy and cloudy wet 80-85% of the time in the rain forests up here? (Tongass and Chugach) And we are not technically in one of the two rain forests today, but only 30% of visitors to Denali National Park ever see the Denali peak because of the prevalent summer rainy dismal weather. Ding! Ding! Ding!

I am grateful to hear Sam sing “Oh Victory in Jesus…” while he’s showering.

I am grateful for pictures of granddaughters Parker and Reilly this morning, uniformed up and ready for their first day in their new school!

I am grateful for a hood on my jacket when it’s cold raining as we walk the street of Talkeetna, base camp for Denali climbers and site of “Northern Exposure” TV series.

I am grateful for eagles and ospreys and trumpet swans and little shrews and wood bison and moose and wolves and of course, bears, all of which we’ve seen during the land portion of our journey to Alaska. Oh, and dogs. But they are on leashes and if they are attached to an Alaskan, they look at you as if to say, “Dumb tourist, I’m a DOG, for cryin’ out loud,” and if they are one of the 746 dogs in the Seattle airport (that might be an exaggeration but not by much), they have no time for pleasantries because their bladders are crying and there are miles of shiny polished floors to navigate before the the asphalt grass of outside is in sight.

I am grateful to be an adult back-of-the-bus-er. After all the years of choir trips and having to be the first-seat adult-in-charge, I get now why the rebel music children loved the back of the bus.

I am grateful Kansas doesn’t have Devil’s Club.

And I am grateful for these tourist group packages that include a luggage service. We set our suitcase outside our hotel room door in the morning, it magically disappears, and then reappears hundreds of miles away that evening in our room at the new resort location.

So, the lesson for our Wednesday – it IS Wednesday, isn’t it?

Appreciate the showers of beautiful blessings and let the negatives and annoyances roll off the waterproofed jacket of life.

I am grateful today for these two young men, employees of the Alyeska Hotel and the Bore Tide Deli, located on the top of the mountain here at the resort.

We arrived by bus and soon decided to explore the area by taking the enclosed tram to the top, over 2000 feet up, as opposed to walking the steep trail that was almost 2.5 miles to the top. This decision was made, of course, by the majority in the group, not by scaredy-of-heights-pants Rhonda. The ride was mostly uneventful and we proceeded to go to the deli for an early dinner because it’s what you do on vacation. Eat and then eat more.

It was cloudy but not rainy; however, at the end of our dinner, the wind began blowing and when we attempted to board the tram back down to stable ground and beautiful resort, we were informed the tram was on a “wind hold.” Fine by Rhonda, I didn’t wanna get on any tram in wind, or ever.

So we sat. And we sat. And we sat some more. And the wind blew 35 mph and then some.

Several people gave up and decided to walk down the trail…and Sam and I chose to do the same after waiting for so long. The waiter mentioned to us that it is typically a strenuous hour and a half walk, but that went right over our heads.

It wasn’t a hundred yards down that we realized strenuous was an understatement. No water bottles. Cold. Windy. Steep. And rugged. Not your typical paved walking path in suburban Kansas City. But we had great new hiking shoes and good jackets and down we went.

And then there was Anthony. “Hi! I’m Anthony.” “You’ll wanna go slower here.” “Step this way, it’s easier.” “I’m native Alaskan, so I’m more used to this.” “I won’t leave you.” “Let’s take a break.”

He was our guide and we followed him faithfully.

A few people passed us on the way down, barely stopping to make sure us old people were okay.

Pictures do not do justice. There were parts, lots of parts, where we had to use both hands to hold on to rocks and mountain, parts where we had to sit down to navigate our way slowly. Parts where our knees and leg muscles screamed. Okay, that was all the parts of the way, but still.

And then, a third of the way down, there was Benjamin. He was our waiter at the top and he also gave up hope of a tram ride, following behind us. And he stayed with Sam the rest of the way, bringing up the rear as protector of our foursome.

We had a great time and stayed positive with every single step, even though our legs were on the verge of giving out, even though Sam was weak and needed many breaks to regroup. And Anthony and Benjamin stayed with us.

It began to get dark. The trail did not get easier as we had hoped. The resort seemed further and further away. And Benjamin got a little worried, so he called for help. He was able to give our position and at .7 miles left, a rescue jeep picked all four of us up in the darkness and drove us the rest of the way.

I must admit. I had doubts and fears. I must also admit. I love my husband and am so proud of him. Several times as we slowly made our way down, he said, “Rhonda, this is not me. I am so sorry. I’m slowing you down.” But this IS Sam. He is the 60+ year old on chemotherapy who decides in a cold wind storm to tackle a 2000+ foot steep descent on a late Alaskan Sunday afternoon.

I must admit. God travels. And He sends angels to go before us and protect from behind. We were just incredibly blessed to SEE THOSE ANGELS this time, and we are so very grateful to call them by name.

Thank you, Anthony and Benjamin.

Thank you, God.