Goodbye, Blue Monday

Goodbye, Blue Monday!

Thanks as always to The Other McCain, Pirate’s Cove and Bacon Time for the Rule Five links!  As always, if we’re showing up in a links post of yours, please let us know in the comments and we’ll add you to the mentions; trackbacks aren’t always reliable for some reason.

Quick question for the incoming Biden Administration:  If those of us who aren’t happy with the results of the 2020 election are all terrorists now, then when do we get our enormous air-delivered pallets of cash?

Anyway.  Boy howdy.  Three flights between Denver and Anchorage in the next couple of months.  Three trips mostly moving firearms and ammo through courtesy of checked baggage, as that’s generally easier than taking them through Canada.  As of last Friday, all the paperwork is complete, we wrote a pretty damn big check, and now we officially own a house, outbuildings and two-plus acres in the Sustina Valley.

The entrance to the AlCan.

In late March/early April we’ll take truck and trailer north, through Wyoming, Montana, Alberta, British Columbia and the Yukon Territory to Alaska, and that will be an interesting trip indeed; watch this space for photos.  We’ll probably want to drive it again in summer, but for now, well, we’re anxious to get this move done and the Colorado house sold, so we’re making that trip as soon as is prudent, given the weather along that route.

I think we’ve picked a pretty damn good time to get the hell out of the lower 48.  Things seem to be damnably unsettled, and I don’t see them getting better, at least for the next couple of years.  And no, I don’t expect to receive a big pallet of cash, although I suspect my being a notoriously independent son of a bitch from a long line of notoriously independent sons of bitches may get me labeled as a troublesome sort at some point.  If so, so be it; if anyone wants to head up the valley to cause some trouble with rural Alaskans, I suspect it won’t end well for them.

Of our four kids, two are in a small town in eastern Iowa and should be well clear of any shenanigans; the other two are in the Denver area but with no little ones, so well situated to get the hell out in a hurry if Denver turns weird.

It’s troubling, now more than ever, to contemplate the world we’re leaving our grandchildren.  But for now, I have to focus on what’s right for Mrs. Animal and yr. obdt., and that’s getting our Alaska home established.  I see those happy golden years stretching out before us, regardless of what stupidity takes over the 48; as I’m fond of paraphrasing the great Davy Crockett, “You may all go to hell.  I will go to Alaska.”

All of you True Believers may want to look around, take stock, and find a similar retreat.  I think things are going to be tense for a while.  I hope I’m wrong – I’d love to be wrong – but I’m afraid I’m not.