On Friday, June 14, at 10:55 a.m., we left Wrangell Mountain Bible Conference Center with all the ceremony of pulling out of a Walmart parking lot. This was in stark contrast to the anticipation and wonder that we all surely held when we pulled into the meandering dirt road just seven days prior. As I took my front-row seat in the Ford mini-bus, the only wonder I held was if I could survive the next 48 hours. We had a few stops to make before Pennsylvania was back on our radar.
Stops Along the Way...
The parsonage to say goodbye to Jean. The iconic Alaska Pipeline. Simpson Hill overlooking the Copper River, and the gas station/visitors center called “The Hub” at the intersection of Route 4 and the Glenn Highway. These were highlights on an otherwise moodless trip back. The bus that experienced laughter and a developing camaraderie on the same highway eastward to Copper Center was taken over by relative silence going west. I was contemplative and exhausted, and the lack of conversation behind me said I wasn’t the only one. We stopped to consume our last packed lunch together at the Mantanuska Glacier State Recreation Area, and then, an unexpected stop at The Arctic Cup to support a small business and treat us with the first taste of decent coffee we've had in a week.
We pulled into Base Camp in Palmer at 4:42 pm and were quickly introduced to the nine-member Crossroads Medical Center Team that just arrived from the Anchorage airport. Sizing them up, I recognized a familiar look of bewilderment, excitement, and pure exhaustion; it was in the eyes of my team members a week before. An unexpected wave of empathy and envy competed for space in my heart. We unloaded the bus, assessed our sleeping arrangements, went out for dinner in Palmer, came back, and crashed. It was the best night of sleep since we touched down in Anchorage. My roomies may not have experienced the same.
Base Camp, Palmer
On Saturday morning, after breakfast and devotionals, a few of us had a chance to walk the property, and it was the first time I could see myself living in Alaska. Hemmed in among the trees, it didn’t feel that much different than my in-law’s property in Perry County. Plus, it was a 20-minute, never-gets-old scenic drive to Palmer with all the infrastructure and community feel of anything I already have in Mechanicsburg. With about half as many people. And the blissful absence of the Carlisle Pike.
But then I saw their “weather station” stick, which measured the snow up to four feet. A quick search found this photo on LightShine’s website:
Okay, so maybe it’s not that much like Perry County.
Other photos I took around Base Camp:
And some visuals for my map nerds out there:
You can learn more about the history of that property here:
And a prayer request:
Please pray for Bob and Angie Neuenschwander, who moved away from their family in Lancaster County to be the first Base Camp Directors. They are a wonderful couple who will surely face many challenges, with or without the snow.
You can follow Bob and Angie’s journey from Lancaster County to Palmer on their Facebook page here:
Hello, Anchorage!
All packed up, we said goodbye to Mel, Lee, and Jim, who stayed behind for another week and would join Base Camp Team 2 in working on the house. Bob took over as our tour guide and drove the team an hour southwest to Anchorage to let us loose in the West 4th Avenue shopping/tourist district to pick up a few souvenirs. In my short time there, it looked like a concrete jungle until your ears were repeatedly drawn to the skies, where Piper Cubs flew around like taxi-cabs. (And, for the record, Pastor Mike, the Pilot, could and should correct me if I've got the wrong make and model of those airplanes!) The streets were dotted with cluttered souvenir shops and, with the presence of seagulls, held all the elements of a Jersey Shore boardwalk. But that’s where the similarities ended. There was nothing else I have ever experienced in my limited travels to compare it to.
Random (actually not) Fun Facts for my statistic nerds out there:
In round numbers, Anchorage has a population of 292,000 people, 40 percent of the entire state of Alaska. Philadelphia’s population is four times that. (1.16 million!) Conversely, Anchorage’s violent crime rate is 26 victims per 1,000 people. Philly? 10 per 1,000. Needless to say, the four girls stayed together in every place except the dressing rooms.
Disclaimer: the math figures are my own and have not been checked, and the raw numbers come from a quick Google search.
Leaving On a Jet Plane...Again
After a stop at the Moose's Tooth for pizza, we were dropped off at the airport. I am not sure if we prayed or even shook hands with Bob because I was back in that frame of mind I mentioned in a previous blog when we checked our bags at Philly's airport a week prior. My fear of airports erased all memories of those few hours. From Anchorage to Seattle, we had a two-hour layover and then a blessedly uneventful red-eye to Philly. I walked off the plane, my mind spinning like a tornado, trying to figure out what was next.
That would be in the form of a quick stop at a familiar Wawa before heading back to the church on a much busier Pennsylvania Turnpike. It was fitting that the journey for this team would begin and end in the parking lot of our beloved Living Water Community Church. There were quick hugs goodbye, and then we scattered like rats, trying to find our way back home. The temperature difference and humidity were immediately noticeable, and like radar, my sinuses welcomed me home with an instant reaction to the crossing of the Susquehanna River.
Maybe four feet of snow wouldn’t be so bad.
Dear Lord, Now What?
It’s been four weeks of analyzing and rehashing events, which makes one more blog necessary to do it justice. But it’s here where I have to spotlight each of you. You are a tangible example of how God uses people to build one another up and to further His Kingdom. You’ve demonstrated this through kindness, encouragement, prayer, and financial support. (And reading these blogs!) None of us could have completed this mission without your obedience. This is what a church should look like.
Stay tuned!
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