Wrights On A Mission

Day 26 – God Goes Before Us

“The Lord Himself goes before you and will be with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.” — Deuteronomy 31:8

We woke around 6:30 this morning after one of the best nights of sleep we’ve had in quite a while. The room at Alpine Creek Lodge was warm, cozy, and best of all, it had room-darkening curtains that completely blocked out Alaska’s midnight sun. It was amazing how something as simple as darkness could feel like such a gift after weeks of nearly constant daylight. God truly knows what we need, even in the smallest details.

Breakfast wasn’t until 8:00 a.m., so we had plenty of time to finish packing the bikes. As peaceful as the lodge was, leaving would prove to be another adventure.

The lodge is literally built into the side of a mountain with two parking areas. Even the lower lot near the highway required riding up a steep, rocky incline with deep tire ruts. I was honestly surprised I had managed to ride up it yesterday. The upper parking area, right beside the lodge, was even steeper, muddier, and more deeply rutted. I refused to ride Gracie up there last night, so Melvin graciously rode her up for me.

This morning, my husband became my hero once again. After loading our gear, he rode both motorcycles down the mountain to the lower parking area, then walked all the way back up in pouring rain, strong winds, and temperatures hovering in the low 40s. His quiet willingness to serve reminded me of Galatians 5:13, “Serve one another humbly in love.” Those small acts of sacrifice often speak louder than grand gestures.

Once he returned, we settled into the dining room for a hot cup of coffee and a delicious homemade breakfast of eggs over easy, oatmeal topped with fresh blueberries, and crispy bacon. Before long, the lodge’s two adorable Jack Russell Terriers decided they wanted to join us. Let’s just say…they may have received a few pieces of bacon under the table.

Our new friends, Phil and Janet, whom we had shared dinner with the evening before, joined us again for breakfast. I had given them one of our Wrights On A Mission stickers the night before, so they realized our journey was much more than just a motorcycle trip—it was a mission of sharing God’s love wherever He leads us.

Before we left, they handed us a book they had just finished reading called proof of Heaven, written by Eben Alexander, M.D., a neurosurgeon about his near-death experience and his experience with the reality of heaven. Once again, I stood amazed at how God orchestrates divine appointments. Every day He places people in our path who encourage us, strengthen our faith, and remind us that we are part of His much bigger story.

Soon, however, reality set in.

It was time to leave the warmth of the lodge and face another cold, rainy ride.

I layered on every piece of warm clothing I had packed. By the time we walked down to the lower parking area, my fingers were already numb from the cold air.

Then came the moment I had been dreading.

I had to ride my motorcycle down that steep, muddy driveway filled with slick gravel, washouts, and deep ruts.

I took a deep breath, put up the kickstand, and quietly reminded myself, “It’s just like your driveway at home. Stay in first gear. Use only the rear brake.”

Then I whispered another prayer.

Sometimes courage isn’t the absence of fear. Sometimes courage is simply trusting God enough to move forward anyway.

I eased off the clutch and let Gracie begin her descent. The front tire slipped and wandered through the muddy ruts, pulling wherever it wanted to go. I resisted the urge to panic and simply let the bike find its path.

A few long seconds later, I rolled safely onto level ground at the bottom.

I slowly brought Gracie to a stop just before the highway, my hands still trembling from the adrenaline.

“When I am afraid, I put my trust in You.” — Psalm 56:3

With Melvin leading the way, we pulled onto the highway and began our ride toward Denali National Park.

The lower section of the Old Denali Highway seemed much smoother than yesterday’s ride. Perhaps the road really was better—or perhaps I was simply beginning to grow more comfortable riding through Alaska’s muddy gravel roads.

Today’s ride was only about three hours, but with the cold rain, steady wind, and temperatures barely above freezing, it felt much longer.

Yet even on a gray day, God’s creation was breathtaking.

The gravel highway twisted through endless green tundra with towering mountains rising in every direction. The clouds danced around the peaks as if the mountains themselves were breathing.

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

Even when the weather isn’t perfect, God’s beauty still shines through.

Eventually we reached Cantwell, where the Old Denali Highway ends. We stopped at the first gas station for fuel—and perhaps more importantly—a hot cup of coffee.

I once heard another rider say, “Everything tastes better after a long, cold, wet ride.”

He wasn’t wrong.

That coffee may not have won any awards on an ordinary day, but today it tasted absolutely wonderful as it warmed us from the inside out.

There was only one long table with four chairs in the convenience store, so Melvin and I sat down with our coffee and shared a banana nut muffin.

Soon two more cold, soaking wet motorcyclists walked in.

“Come join us,” we said.

They introduced themselves as Brian and his son, Aiden, from Homer, Alaska. They were enjoying a father-and-son trip to Valdez. Brian was riding a Triumph Rocket while Aiden was on a Sportster.

Before long another motorcycle couple walked in, equally wet and looking for warmth.

“There’s room over here!”

They introduced themselves as Jon and Rita from Edmonton, Canada, riding a Gold Wing.

They asked if they should continue north toward Chicken and the Top of the World Highway.

I smiled and honestly described our experience.

“The roads are muddy, slick, loose gravel, cold, windy…”

Melvin interrupted, laughing.

“Can you tell them something good?”

I laughed too.

“The views are spectacular…if the fog lets you see them.”

Everyone burst into laughter.

Motorcyclists may come from different countries, ride different brands of bikes, and travel different roads, but we all understand one another. It’s amazing how quickly strangers become friends when you’re sharing the same adventure.

Once we had all thawed out, we wished each other safe travels and headed out for the final twenty miles of glorious pavement.

I can’t even begin to describe how excited I was to see asphalt again!

By noon we arrived at Denali National Park and checked into Riley Creek Campground. After choosing our campsite and storing all of our food in one of the park’s bear-proof storage lockers, we met another couple that reminded us once again just how small God’s world really is.

Bob and his wife are from Indian Lake, New York—not far from where we live.

As we talked, we discovered we had a mutual friend back home. I work with Leslie, who has known Bob since elementary school.

We gathered together for a quick photo, and I sent it to Leslie.

Her reply made us all smile:

“Hi Rochelle!!! OMG…small world!! I’ve known Bob since elementary school! Please tell him I said hello! I hope you’re having a great trip!”

Only God could arrange for two people from New York to meet thousands of miles away in Alaska and discover they share lifelong friends.

“A person’s steps are directed by the Lord.” — Proverbs 20:24

With our bus tour about to depart, we said our goodbyes. Melvin and I rode together on his bike up to the bus depot, where we gladly climbed aboard a warm shuttle bus and let someone else do the driving for a while.

Our driver, Vicki, pointed out Mount Margaret, the Savage River, Sanctuary River, and the Teklanika River as we traveled deeper into the park.

Denali herself remained hidden behind thick clouds all afternoon.

At one stop Vicki thought she spotted a caribou.

I couldn’t find it.

Later she stopped again because a lynx and a snowshoe hare had crossed the road.

I missed those too.

Someone spotted Dall sheep high on a distant mountainside.

Still nothing.

Then Vicki suddenly said, “Grizzly bear!”

This time I actually saw it.

It was a long way off, but I managed to capture a somewhat blurry photo—a trophy I’ll gladly keep.

Later, after leaving the East Fork Ranger Station at an elevation of 3,061 feet, we finally saw a herd of Dall sheep. Then, just as we reached the Savage River Bridge, Melvin excitedly pointed toward the river.

Two caribou were calmly making their way across the water.

Finally…I saw them too!

After the tour it was nearly 8:30 p.m., and we still needed to make dinner.

We stopped at the camp store and picked up a can of chili, a couple slices of cheddar cheese, two bags of Fritos, and I already had a package of instant rice.

Everything went into the Jetboil, and before long we were enjoying a hot meal around our campsite.

It wasn’t fancy.

But after another cold Alaska day, it tasted just about perfect.

While Melvin grabbed a shower, I cleaned up dinner, returned all of our food to the bear-proof storage locker, charged our electronics, uploaded video footage, and sat down to finish today’s blog.

As I reflect on today, I realize it was filled with little moments that pointed back to God’s faithfulness.

He gave me courage for a muddy mountain road I didn’t think I could ride.

He provided warm shelter before the storm.

He surrounded us with encouraging believers.

He brought complete strangers together in fellowship over cups of coffee.

He even reminded us that His family stretches far beyond the place we call home.

Tomorrow we’ll pack up camp once again and head south to Wasilla, where Dave and Angie, fellow members of the Christian Motorcyclists Association, have graciously opened their home to us.

We’ve never met them before, yet we already know we’re family.

That’s the beautiful thing about belonging to Christ. No matter where these roads lead us, we are never traveling alone. God’s presence goes before us, and His people are waiting along the way.