Day 17 – Fellowship Along the Way and the Majesty of God’s Creation

Our final night in Chicken, Alaska was a chilly one as we slept in our tent beneath the endless Alaskan sky. Thankfully, our zero-degree sleeping bags kept us warm through the night. A few times I woke up with nothing but my nose sticking out into the cold air. I’d laugh to myself, then wiggle farther down into my sleeping bag until only the warmth surrounded me again.

At 6:30 a.m., the alarm sounded. I knew it was time to leave the comfort of my cozy sleeping bag. Reluctantly, I pulled on my long pants, shirt, socks, jacket, and sneakers before unzipping the tent. The crisp morning air instantly reminded me that we were still deep in the Alaskan wilderness.

As I walked toward the outhouse and shower building, I ran into Andrea, the bicyclist we had come to know during our stay in Chicken. Her husband had injured his back a few days earlier, forcing them to delay their dream of cycling all the way to Mexico. Yesterday, Melvin and I had the privilege of praying with her, asking God for healing, strength, and peace during this unexpected setback. This morning they were finally heading to Tok so he could be evaluated at the hospital. We promised to continue praying for them as they trusted God with the next chapter of their journey. Sometimes the road God places before us looks much different than the one we planned, but He never wastes a detour.

Back at camp, I fired up the JetBoil and soon the smell of fresh coffee filled the cool morning air. Along with a simple breakfast of oatmeal, it was exactly what we needed before another day on the road.

We’ve settled into a comfortable rhythm with camp life now. While I packed our sleeping bags and pillows into compression sacks and loaded the motorcycles, Melvin deflated the air mattresses and packed up the tent. What once seemed like a daunting task has become almost second nature. It’s amazing how quickly you adapt when life becomes simpler.

By 8:00 a.m. we quietly rolled out of the campground. Most of the campers were still asleep, and the peaceful silence made our departure feel almost sacred. As we passed the main building, one couple spotted us and gave us an enthusiastic wave goodbye. I couldn’t help but smile and wave back.

Leaving Chicken was bittersweet.

Over the past four days, God had filled this tiny, quirky town with unforgettable memories, unexpected friendships, and countless reminders that His family extends far beyond the walls of our own church. The hospitality, conversations, laughter, and prayers we shared with people from all over the world reminded us that Christian fellowship isn’t confined to a building—it’s found wherever believers gather in His name. We arrived in Chicken as strangers, but we left feeling like family.

Soon we were back on the rugged Taylor Highway. Once again the pavement disappeared beneath our tires, replaced by gravel, dirt, loose rock, washboard sections, and potholes large enough to swallow a truck tire. Melvin rode ahead, calling out hazards through our Sena helmet communicators.

“Stay right.”

“Pothole left.”

“Big one ahead.”

His steady guidance helped me safely navigate the challenging road, and I silently thanked God for blessing me with such a caring husband and riding partner.

The Taylor Highway demands your full attention. Between the deep potholes, frost heaves, loose gravel, and endless washboard sections, you can’t allow your concentration to wander for even a moment.

Yet the greatest challenge wasn’t always the road.

It was resisting the urge to stare at the overwhelming beauty surrounding us.

Towering mountains rose like giant cathedrals carved by the Creator Himself. Endless green valleys stretched for miles below, painted with winding rivers that shimmered like silver ribbons beneath the morning sun. Snow still clung to distant peaks while soft clouds drifted lazily across brilliant blue skies. Around every corner another breathtaking panorama unfolded, each one more magnificent than the last.

The silence of those vast wilderness landscapes seemed to whisper of God’s greatness.

It reminded me of Psalm 19:1: “The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of His hands.”

There are places where you simply can’t help but worship.

The Taylor Highway is one of them.

After riding for quite some time, we pulled into a scenic overlook to stretch our legs. Several other travelers arrived, snapped a few photos, admired the view, and continued on their way. We lingered a little longer, enjoying some trail mix while taking in the incredible landscape. Moments like these remind us that sometimes the greatest gift isn’t reaching the destination—it’s slowing down long enough to appreciate the beauty God places along the journey.

Nearly two hours later we rolled into Tok, Alaska, where the pavement of the Alaska Highway finally greeted us. After miles of gravel, it felt like a luxury.

Our first stop was a gas station for fuel, hot coffee, and a small snack. There we met a father and son riding Harley-Davidsons from Vancouver. They were planning to travel the Top of the World Highway toward Dawson City. Knowing firsthand how rough those roads were, I shared what we had experienced. Their touring bikes would certainly have a more difficult time than our adventure motorcycles.

Before we left, we asked if we could give them a biker blessing.

They gladly accepted.

Standing together in a parking lot, we prayed for God’s protection, safe travels, wisdom, and unforgettable memories along their journey. Moments like these remind us why God called us on this mission. Sometimes ministry happens in churches. Sometimes it happens beside a gas pump.

We still had another 189 miles to travel before reaching our destination for the evening—the community of North Pole, Alaska. We were excited to spend several days with our longtime friend Mark from church back home in New York, who spends his summers working in Alaska.

The Richardson Highway was paved, but frost heaves kept us alert as traffic flowed steadily with families and campers returning from the Fourth of July weekend.

About halfway there, we stopped at a grocery store for lunch and something cold to drink. As we were preparing to leave, a young woman walked toward us.

She smiled and said, “I just felt led to bless you on your journey.”

She prayed over us, asking God to keep us safe as we continued our mission.

We were deeply moved.

Isn’t that just like God?

He places His people exactly where they need to be at exactly the right moment. Complete strangers become brothers and sisters because we share the same Heavenly Father. We may never meet again this side of Heaven, but for those few moments, we stood united in Christ. What an incredible reminder that God’s family reaches across every state, province, and nation.

Around 4:30 that afternoon we finally arrived at Mark’s home. As God’s timing would have it, he pulled into the driveway at the exact same moment we did.

The hugs came quickly.

It had been far too long.

Mark showed us the truck camper where we’d be staying for the week. After several nights in a tent, having electricity and heat felt like an incredible blessing. Once again God had provided through the generosity and hospitality of a friend.

Hospitality is one of the greatest expressions of Christ’s love.

Opening your home may seem like a small act, but to weary travelers it speaks volumes. It reminds us that we are seen, cared for, and deeply loved—not only by our friends, but by God Himself.

After unloading the bikes, Mark treated us to coffee and donuts before taking us to the banks of the Tanana River. Sitting together in the warm sunshine, we caught up on life, ministry, and everything God has been doing since we last saw one another. We toured the lumber yard where he works, drove through town, visited the South Cushman Rifle Range, and finished the afternoon with a stop at Fred Meyer to stock up on groceries for the week.

And yes…

Ice cream somehow found its way into the shopping cart.

Back at Mark’s house, Melvin and Mark talked for hours while I uploaded video footage, charged batteries, and caught up on writing today’s blog. We eventually all found ourselves sitting outside beneath the canopy, talking until nearly midnight.

Yet the sky never really grew dark.

The midnight sun continued to illuminate everything around us, making it feel more like late afternoon than the end of the day. It is still such a strange and wonderful experience to see daylight stretching through the night.

Every day on this journey reveals another glimpse of God’s magnificent creation.

Every mile reminds us of His faithfulness.

Every person we meet reminds us that His family is everywhere.

And every act of kindness reminds us that God is continually caring for us through the hands and hearts of others.

Psalm 133:1

“Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity.”