Preparing for the 1st Chicken Trip of 2020

Writing Inspiration, part 3

We’ve had one of the coldest Januaries on record here in Anchorage. Now that it is February, Ray and I are deep in the planning logistics for our first Chicken trip of 2020, scheduled for March. It takes a lot to travel out to the cabin under normal conditions, but when you’re going out there at a time of year when the road is barely open, and there’s no one for miles, safety is of the utmost concern.

Taylor Highway Closed Sign. Road closes from October 15 and “officially” reopens April 30. We typically can get out to our place by mid-March depending on snow conditions.

I am pretty excited, considering all of the changes 2020 has in store. I am getting laid off from my job (not completely a bad thing), I am self-publishing a novella (the Dark Land, coming in May), and I am staring the second round of my newest MS treatment in a week.

Breaking up the snow for water

Things are pretty frantic at the moment, and I have to admit, I can’t wait to get out to the cabin, and get away.

Moonrise from the cabin in the late fall of 2019

One of the great things about being away from distractions like the internet and the cellphone (yes, we have neither out at the cabin) is the time to savor the small things. For those of you who follow me on a regular basis, you’ll notice we take a lot of pictures of the view from our cabin.

The cabin at night.

It is amazing to watch the light change over the course of the year. I can take a photo from the same spot, at the same time, just at different times of year, and the difference is astounding with Alaska’s dramatic shift in light.

The cabin in Chicken, AK

Next week I will be releasing the cover of my horror novella The Dark Land, designed by Avery Kingston. You’ll notice that the background of the cover is the featured image of this blog post. I took that from the porch of the cabin in April of 2018 on one of our first trips out. At that time of year, the Taylor Highway is still closed. It doesn’t officially open until May. Only 5 people reside in Chicken per the last census. When we look north toward “town” we can sometimes see one light at night. That light belongs to the caretaker of the “Old Town” of Chicken. Other than him and the Chicken Postmistress, there are no other people for 70 miles in any direction.

View from out fire pit in winter.

The epic views and the amount of quiet time make for fantastic inspiration for writing. Someday I hope more of my writing friends could join me out there. Thanks for reading! I plan on previewing the cover of The Dark Land soon. Next week’s blog will be more on my battery study and our preparations for the first Chicken Run of 2020!