Arctic or Bust

This weekend, two Southern(California)ers are headed north.

And by north, I mean NORTH.

Like, just-shy-of-the-arctic-circle north.

That’s right, Los Precios are off to Alaska on Thursday, adventure to be had.

And what more could get a girl more excited to miss some sweet Labor Day sales and 80-something So-Cal weather than a forecast like this:

As it turns out, that previously-planned backpacking trip may just turn out to be a foot-trek in search of an ark.

But this glass of mine will remain half-full. Even in my days in the arctic end up no better than the days depicted above, it shan’t be for naught.

After all:

• RP will feel super bad.
• That weekend-in-New-York shopping trip becomes that much more attainable.
• Maybe the rain will keep everyone out of the open air – including the grizzlies.
• The sound of constant rain on the tent may keep me from thinking I hear the aforementioned grizzlies.
• We didn’t spend extra mullah on waterproof gear for nothing.
• That last night in a bed and breakfast will be AMAZING.
• Maybe I will sleep on the redeye flight home, after all.
• Being miserable about the weather gives me a break from being miserable about my throbbing mouth (yes, four holes in your jawbone will stick with you for a couple weeks).

Here goes nothing.