We dance at Anchorage's Costco

Today our route takes us 190 miles in a light rain, off the Kenai Peninsula and back through Anchorage to Palmer AK. 

The Alaska State Fair is going on in Palmer and we decide to attend.  We are told Costco has tickets for half-price so several of us drive to the Anchorage Costco on our way to Palmer. 

The Costco parking lot is not large and is crowded (it is about noon), and three of us arrive simultaneously trying to park our roughly 46’ long truck/trailer combinations.  This is difficult in the best of circumstances but this Costco has narrow aisles and tight turns, so we have to dance about to find adequate space.  Our goal is always to park where we interfere the least with others, and they in turn we hope will not interfere with us.  It is very easily for a cars to come along and grab a spot, not knowing they have blocked our only practical exit route.

Parked, we go inside only to find Costco ceased selling tickets the day the fair opened.  No trip to Costco is wasted, however, and Marcia buys two tops, I buy more coffee, Larry and Martha replace their GPS that routes them across bodies of water without need of bridges, Claudia and Barry buy some calcium, and we all have lunch.

Arriving later at our Palmer campground I find my trailer GFI circuit is dead, and the GFI won’t reset.  This happened two years ago and the fault was in an outside plug full of metal shavings left by the factory.  This time I’m hoping the day’s rain caused the problem and as things dry out it will clear, at least until the next rain.  (We’ve developed two leaks.) 

Palmer is at the base of more magnificent mountains and a glacier. There is hardly a place in Alaska that doesn’t have a great view.  View fatigue hasn’t hit us yet, but I think it has probably hit some of our fellow carvanners.   It is highly unusual for a caravan this size (38 rigs) to hold together on this long a trip without losses caused by illness, family crises, fatigue, collapsed spirits, conflicts, or equipment breakdowns.  But here we are - still 38 rigs.

Reminiscent of Newfoundland, a local development official greets us in the campground garage to highlight the area.  He and one person in our group are in short-sleeve shirts - the rest of us are cold.  It is lightly drizzling.