Day 54, Arrival!
   
   6/20/01
   Mile 4914
   Talkeetna, AK
   
   I awoke staring at the red-and-brown roof of my tent.  Laying in my
   sleeping bag a while, I pulled together the experiences I'd had these
   thousands of miles, and knew today would be the last push to the
   finish.  I packed up without even thinking about it, from sheer repetition.
   
   It was cloudy, with only a few mountains visible as I exited the
   forest onto the road.  I hopped on the bike, and kicked it in gear.  It was a
   grand time.
   
   Later in the day the main mountain finally became visible, and I was
   able to get a few photos.  Ye Gods, this thing is big.  With its icy
   summit piercing into the stratosphere, it looks tall, cold - and
   deadly to those who fail to respect it.
   
   The mileposts drifted past as I counted down the remaining
   miles...63...42..36...and so on.  I was actually going to make it.
   Eventually I turned off the main road onto the road that dead-ends at 
   Talkeetna, and biked the few remaining miles.
   
   At the edge of town, a number of tourists were snapping pictures of
   themselves against the backdrop of Denali.  They were all proud of
   themselves for driving or flying or taking a tour bus here... and had
   absolutely no idea where I'd come from on a bike.  I kept it that way;
   this was my private moment of satisfaction, and there was no reason to spoil
   their moment.
   
   I rolled down the hill and into town.  I'd made it, and on the day of
   summer solstice, longest day of the year.  That means more at this
   latitude than in the lower 48.  Here I will wait for Mike to arrive
   with the climbing gear.
   
   I checked in at the hut and took a shower. I looked at myself in the
   mirror; my first thought was, "Hey, it's Groundskeeper Willie from the
   Simpsons!"  It has been a helluva trip, one that changes from without
   and within.
   
   I am mindful of the huge amount of force that has been required to
   propel me the thousands of miles across the continent.  Did I really
   just do that?  It's taken so much focus for so long, the experience is hard
   to wrap my brain around - more of a dreamlike quality, just after
   you've woken up and are trying to remember the details.
   
   Tomorrow will be a single rest day before going to the mountain.  This
   is definitely not what you'd want to do; normally you'd want a
   training schedule to taper off the week before a climb, and do nothing at all
   for a few days before.  But everything else on this trip has been
   overdone, why not a bit more? (no, not really).  I arrived on time at
   all only because I'd pushed myself constantly, riding rain or shine.  If I had
   not taken the risk of crossing the washed-out bridge, I wouldn't be
   here now.
   
   There was, however, little time for wallowing in the achievement (and
   you can't exactly say to yourself, "hurry up and rest").  Mike's
   flight would be leaving at 9am my time, and there were things to be done
   here.  Last-minute groceries to check for availability on, and fuel
   cannisters to find, and catching up on my journal.
   
   But it's important to set aside some times in life to celebrate,
   instead of waiting for everything to be perfect - otherwise, you'll
   never celebrate anything.  So I can take one moment out to say,
   
   "Ahhhh...."

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