TALKEETNA, Alaska—I dreamed of Alaska long before setting foot there. After my first trip to Denali National Park, I spent months marching around Manhattan in my weighted vest thinking about my return; Alaska had even taken over my waking hours.
In May 2018 my incessant dreaming coalesced into something inexplicable. It defies definition, though my best stab at it is gratitude. America’s last frontier has a way of overwriting the preconceived, presenting what you never expected. After all, how could you possibly know what’s missing, when Alaska is unlike anything else?