So, We'll Go No More A RoVing

We're back home from our RV trip to Denali and Fairbanks. Shepherding the leviathan as it pitched and rolled, was at first just ghastly. I was one of those cartoon drivers holding on to the steering wheel with my feet flying out behind me as I was flung around corners and up hills. Later though, I achieved the Zen complacency that comes from overconfidence. No, I did get better as I went along. Last night we lounged in our RV living room. I felt so relaxed, I told the them that when were driving home, no one outside would know if I just stayed in my baggy pajamas, especially if I kept the curtains closed.
Yesterday we took a cruise on the Riverboat Discovery. One of the high points of that trip has always been the Wedding of the Chena and Tanana Rivers. The clear Chena joins the silty Tanana and something better than both of them emerges. E Pluribus Unum. Except that so much silt has built up that the boat can no longer make it into the Tanana. So now, it's more like nature saying, "Good fences make good neighbors."
I don't want to give the wrong impression here. Mostly while Sarah and her Sean went off to look at Alaskan stuff, Karen and I stayed in the air conditioned motor home and read and slept. I did a book a day, powered almost entirely by Corn Nuts and cashews.