Alaska: Day 11--Back to Anchorage

Our primary objective on Saturday, August 16th, was to pack up and head back to Anchorage, hit the showers upon arrival, then do laundry and prepare for Sunday, which was also the day Jared's parents would be flying home.

As we were breaking down camp, I wanted to take a picture of something. But I couldn't find the digital camera where I normally kept it--in the diaper bag. So I looked in my purse. Not there. I looked in my jacket pocket. Not there. I looked in our clothes bag. Not there. I looked in the van. I looked in the camper and in the tent. No where to be found. That's when I realized that it had to have been left behind on the tour bus. But how could that be? As we got off the bus, I was the last person to exit because of Calvin and his car seat for one. But also because I got down on my knees in the aisle to make sure A) we didn't forget anything important or B) left any garbage behind. Our space was spotless. Nothing had escaped. So where the heck was it?

It must have fallen out of the unzipped diaper bag after we got off the bus at the visitor's center. I was pretty annoyed. But was surprised when I quickly recognized there was no sinking feeling of despair over the grim possibility of once-in-a-lifetime pictures never to be recovered or shared. Our dads also took pictures so I had a few back ups. All was not totally lost. But still. They weren't mine. And yes, we could buy a new camera...eventually. Very inconvenient and pricey, I might add. These things were normally enough to make my eyes burn with angry tears. Yet, my eye ducts were completely dry...which for me and frustration, was pretty impressive. I could only conclude that the underlying peace and calmness within me were indicating that I would find my camera.

After we got the vehicles loaded, we headed back to the visitor's center where the Park Service lost and found was located. The guy at information was also from Oregon (because his name tag said so) but I didn't have time for small talk. He said if I lost the camera the day before it would be over by the train depot just down the road. So we drove over there. I went to the main building first to avoid wandering around aimlessly and I was told to follow the painted doggie footprints (which leads tourists to the dog mushing demonstration nearby) and I did so until they brought me to the baggage check area.

I explained to the man behind the counter that I had lost my camera. He asked me to describe it. That was no problem. It was a silver Kodak Easy Share and has a crack on the battery cover from a fall 2 years ago. He nodded his head, went behind his curtain and reappeared with my camera. Why wasn't I surprised? I was happy and relieved. But not surprised. I immediately noticed that part of the battery cover had broken off from the repaired crack and was exposing some of the batteries. It had definitely fallen. How we didn't hear it or notice it is beyond me. I didn't care though. And I've discovered that if I hold my mouth just right the camera will still come on...sometimes. Further scrutiny proved that the memory card was unaffected and my pictures were all there. And the internal stillness I experienced as I tried unsuccessfully to locate my camera earlier that morning, made perfect sense.

With everything in tow, we left Denali National Park and Preserve behind us and made the 5 hour trek back to Anchorage. Oh and guess what? It rained on our way home.