Day 34 – God’s Beauty in the Mist

The cool, damp morning greeted us once again as the alarm sounded at 7:30. I hit the snooze button just once, reluctant to leave the warmth of my sleeping bag. Outside, a fine mist drifted through the campground, making everything glisten. Eventually, I gathered enough courage to brave the chilly walk to the bathhouse.

On the way, I ran into our new friend Jay, the fisherman who had so generously blessed us with fresh salmon the evening before.

“Hi Jay! That salmon was absolutely delicious. Thank you again for sharing it with us.”

He smiled and asked, “Have you ever had fresh Alaskan salmon before?”

“No,” I replied. “And I can honestly say it’s the best salmon we’ve ever eaten.”

He wished us a safe journey and said, “I hope you come back to Alaska someday.”

“So do we,” I answered. “It was such a blessing meeting you.”

As we said our goodbyes, I couldn’t help but thank God once again for the incredible people He had placed in our path. During our stay at K-Beach Campground, we had met so many fishermen and their families who welcomed us like old friends. They shared stories of life in Alaska, explained the salmon runs, patiently taught me how to fillet a fish, and even gave us a piece of their hard-earned catch to enjoy. Their generosity reminded me that “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.” (Hebrews 13:2)

Back at the tent, I boiled water and brewed a fresh cup of coffee with the AeroPress. The scones we had picked up from Mel’s Bakery the day before paired perfectly with the hot coffee. Bundled beneath the vestibule of the tent, we listened to the gentle patter of the mist while savoring breakfast and reflecting on how grateful we were for the unforgettable people and experiences God had given us over the past two days. Sometimes the greatest treasures of a journey aren’t found on a map—they’re found in the hearts of the people God allows you to meet.

Soon it was time to settle back into our familiar routine of breaking camp and packing the motorcycles. Today’s ride would only be about an hour and a half south to Homer.

As we carefully made our way out of the campground’s gravel driveway, full of deep potholes left by the rain, I was almost to the main road when one hidden rut caught my front wheel. I knew instantly what was happening.

“I’m going down…again!” I yelled to Melvin.

In what felt like slow motion, Gracie gently laid herself over onto the soft gravel. Thankfully, neither of us was hurt, and once again the bike suffered little more than another dusty reminder that adventure isn’t always glamorous.

We laughed as we lifted her back onto two wheels. It’s funny how something that would have terrified me at the beginning of this journey has become almost routine. God has been teaching me not to fear the unexpected. Every time I pick Gracie back up, I’m reminded that we all fall sometimes—but by God’s grace, we get back up.

“Though the righteous fall seven times, they rise again.” (Proverbs 24:16)

With Gracie faithfully roaring back to life, we continued south on the Sterling Highway.

The rain drifted between mist and drizzle as we followed the shoreline of Cook Inlet. Then, as the highway descended toward Homer, an unforgettable scene unfolded before us.

Across the waters of Kachemak Bay stood a magnificent chain of towering snow-covered volcanoes—Mount Douglas, Mount Augustine, Mount Iliamna, Mount Redoubt, and Mount Spurr. They seemed to rise straight from the sea, their white peaks piercing the low gray clouds.

The view literally took my breath away.

It was one of those moments where words simply aren’t enough.

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

Every mile seemed to whisper the greatness of our Creator. No photograph could ever fully capture what our eyes were privileged to witness.

By 11:30 we arrived at the Beachycrest/Homer KOA. The office was temporarily closed while the manager was working elsewhere in the campground, so we walked next door to the gas station to warm ourselves with a hot cup of coffee and use the restroom.

When we returned, she was back, and we checked in just as the light mist became a steady rain.

While setting up camp, a campground employee named Michael wandered over.

“I had to stop and look at your license plates,” he laughed. “I wanted to see if you really rode here from New York.”

“We sure did,” I smiled. “We’re over 6,000 miles into the trip now, and today marks the halfway point of our journey.”

He grinned, and before long Melvin handed him one of our Gospel tracts. Michael shared that he was a follower of Jesus and encouraged us with Scripture. What a blessing it is to meet fellow believers wherever the road leads. We may have been thousands of miles from home, but in Christ we are always family.

Once camp was set up, we rode into town for a few groceries. I hopped on the back of Melvin’s bike this time. Every now and then it’s nice being the passenger—I get to simply enjoy the scenery instead of concentrating on the road. The rain gave us just enough of a break to pick up breakfast supplies before beginning to sprinkle once again.

Back at camp, I transformed yesterday’s gift of fresh salmon into fish tacos using soft tortillas, pepper jack cheese, and salsa.

Without exaggeration, they were the best fish tacos we’ve ever eaten.

God’s provision has tasted especially sweet on this journey.

After dinner, both of us were ready for a long, hot shower to chase away the damp chill that had settled into our bones.

Once we were warm again, I started a load of laundry while Melvin returned to camp. As I waited in the cozy common area, I met Angelica and Gabe. She had just flown in to visit him but was disappointed that rainy weather had hidden much of Alaska’s beauty.

I smiled and said, “Friday is supposed to be sunny!”

She laughed. “That’s the day I fly home.”

“Well,” I replied, “at least you’ll have beautiful weather for your flight.”

We all laughed together.

Meanwhile, back at camp, Melvin had struck up a conversation with our neighboring campers. He shared one of our “What Would Jesus Ride?” tracts, and they were fascinated by our journey. As the conversation deepened, they shared the heartbreaking story of losing their son several years ago. Melvin gently shared about losing our daughter and how Christ had faithfully carried us through that valley.

Because of bad weather, their fishing trip had been canceled, yet perhaps God had another appointment planned instead.

“Praise be to…the God of all comfort, who comforts us…so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.” (2 Corinthians 1:3-4)

Sometimes ministry happens around a campfire more than from a pulpit.

After my laundry was finished, I carried it back to camp where Melvin had somehow managed to build a beautiful fire despite the steady mist.

Before settling in, we stopped by the camp store for a couple of drinks and a bag of popcorn.

Then we simply sat beneath the shelter of our tent, watching the flames dance against the gray evening while mist drifted quietly through the campground. Beyond the trees, the majestic mountains overlooking Kachemak Bay still stood watch, reminding us that God’s creation remains beautiful whether wrapped in sunshine or hidden beneath clouds.

There was nowhere else we would have rather been.

Tomorrow’s forecast calls for rain and strong winds, so we’ll trust the Lord with another day and pray He opens the right doors. Maybe we’ll find an indoor adventure, and perhaps on Friday, when the skies clear, we’ll finally explore the famous Homer Spit.

Either way, our hope isn’t in the weather.

“This is the day the Lord has made; we will rejoice and be glad in it.” (Psalm 118:24)

Rain or sunshine, mountaintops or muddy potholes, every mile is another opportunity to witness God’s faithfulness—and we wouldn’t trade this journey for anything.