A Different Journey

The day we arrived in Nome, Alaska, it was -2 degrees Celsius and the locals were concerned the snow would melt before the Iditarod dog-sled race. An unthawed green ice-block—the kind you eat—lay in a gutter, perfectly preserved, and it seemed to us that the future of the Iditarod was secure. Nome is where this one thousand mile race over frozen terrain ends. It commemorates the 1925 Great Serum Run, when badly needed diphtheria serum was transported to Nome by dog sleds.

Nome was a friendly place. One could almost have felt they were grateful for our visit. There was a sort of camaraderie, maybe formed by a common bonding against the elements. Milano’s Pizza restaurant displayed a sign that said, Nome welcomes tourists and, for once, it seemed to be more than tourist jargon.

Some of the buildings were shacks that might have looked more at home in the woods of North America. A greenhouse with broken windows was full of snow. There were some nicer homes, shut up against the weather, but the best buildings were the churches and hotels and we were surprised to find a well-stocked Christian bookshop.

Matryoshka dolls in the tourist shops reminded us that Russia lay only a few hundred miles to the west across the Bering Strait. In fact two islands to the west—Big Diomede and Little Diomede— are only two and a half miles apart. Big Diomede belongs to Russia and Little Diomede to the USA. When the sea is frozen over in the winter one could theoretically walk from USA to Russia.

Nome became attractive after three Swedes found gold nuggets there in 1898. This started the inevitable gold rush and led to a massive increase in population. Its most famous citizen was Wyatt Earp, who made his fortune from the pockets of prospectors. It is said one can still find gold nuggets on Ruby Beach—in the summer—but the thousands of bounty hunters have long since departed.

Pat and I were not there to seek for gold, or even for the dog-sled race. The Lord had been speaking to us about visiting the west coast of Alaska for a while. Our hearts were touched by the sense of isolation. Alaska didn’t even rate a mention in the USA weather forecast and one of our American friends informed us that they used to pay people to live there. With our feet on Alaskan soil, we prayed for the local population and for the state of Alaska and the safety of its borders. It was the start of a prayer journey that would eventually go right around the northern hemisphere, although we didn’t realise exactly what we’d done until afterwards.

It was soon time to move on from this fascinating place and fly east. In the cabin the airhostess was having a fit of the giggles as she tried to demonstrate the safety procedures. Actually the suggestion that we could use the seat as a flotation device was a bit of a joke! In the sub-zero temperatures we’d all be snap-frozen, long before we drowned!

Below us the white landscape resembled a badly iced cake. Then we left the land behind and for a while the icy sea took its place—frozen waves! How could something so mobile and salty freeze solid!

It was the first time I had ever been cold on a plane and I was glad when they brought us hot coffee. Soon we were winging our way over white mountains tinged with rosy hues. Next stop New York.