I am a city girl. I ride the subway, I hail cabs and I complain about garbage and rats. The sound of heavy traffic, roaring fire engines and honking horns soothes my soul. Carry-out menus line my kitchen shelves and my refrigerator contains a handful of perishable items. Breakfast for idiots is my kind of book and I have a chef who cooks for me. I live in a 465 square foot studio and identify my neighbors not by their faces but by the sounds of footsteps or a hair dryer and blender.
Why on earth did I decide to visit Alaska? This is an easy answer. It’s the complete opposite of anything in New York City.
An hour after my arrival in Alaska, I found myself on the side of Mt. Alyeska in Girwood hiking the North Face trail. My friend Brooke Edwards outfitted me with bear spray, binoculars, layers of clothing and the important and necessary day pack and off we went. At some point while swatting mosquitoes, yelling out, “Hey Bear,” I wondered why I would embark on this journey.
Mt. Alyeska, Alyeska Resort, Girwood, Alaska
Brooke assured me this was an hour-to-the-top type /kind of hike and I would appreciate the views. I admired how she didn’t break a sweat and I struggled to maintain my dignity. Brooke may not have understood my current level of experience involved(better word) “hiking” up 20 or so steps from the subway to the street and a few block stroll along a flat and even surfaced Lexington Avenue. (See Life on the 6 Train)
The view at the top exceeded my expectations and I was happy to get a sense of my surroundings and take in the scenery of the Turnagain Arm, a branch of glacial water surrounded by towering mountains that leads to the Gulf of Alaksa. Turnagain Arm proved not to be the Northwest Passage Captain Cook sought to discover but its natural beauty rivals any landscape I’ve seen in the world.
Catching my breath, I hobbled to the restaurants as I peeled layer after layer exposing my sweaty back and the markings of an out of shape city girl. I hoped Brooke would be amenable to a “Kelly kind of eating and drinking break” before heading down the mountain. She did better than that, after a brief exchange we decided to go fancy in our hiking gear and dine at Seven Glaciers Restaurant, where I feasted on my first Alaskan halibut and a Boullabaisse soup, loaded with seafood and a saffron broth. We topped off my first day with a pleasant tram ride down the mountain and heaps more wine at the Alyeska Resort.
My expert guide Brooke Edwards at our first toast after hiking Mt. Alyeska, 7 Glaciers Restaurant
With the midnight sun (11:30 PM sunset) toying with my emotions and idea of place, I settled in for a few hours of desperate sleep before jolting awake at 5:30 AM when the sun beckoned me to hit the road.
It’s an election year, it’s campaign season and I am a *political fundraiser. I’ve worked as the body person (sucker), the advance lead (warrior) and the consultant (a rare and mature combo of the aforementioned). I’ve traveled on the road, visited with voters door to door and I’ve sat at a desk dialing for dollars and begging for votes. The jobs are not glamorous but they allow me to pack my bags and discover the vast countryside. Places I never dreamed of seeing like Oshkosh, Wisconsin.
Fasten your seatbelts we are off to Election Night in Boston
In 2004, I signed up for an advance job with the Kerry Edwards presidential campaign. Oh I thought to myself, “I’ve made it, I get to travel with Senator John Kerry by private plane.” I was wrong. Instead of attending shindigs at Radio City Music Hall or the Staples Center in Los Angles to listen to Bon Jovi, I landed in Green Bay, Wisconsin on a Sunday during Packer season and Nashua, New Hampshire in October when the skies are gloomy, the temperatures falling and the multitude of emotions high. My room at the Holiday Inn in Nashua leaked and I quiver to this day when I remember my time spent in Nashua, which years later I fumble pronouncing. The air was cold and damp– Brrr– and locals in dive bars wore hair mullets with fierce pride.
Advance people spend a lot of time waiting
The campaign directed me to plan rallies around the theme of the week which often focused on jobs, universal healthcare, the environment or the War in Iraq. I stayed in small towns like Brownsville, Pennsylvania where the “best restaurant in town” served up healthy iceberg lettuce salads with mounds of greasy French fries in the center of the plate. The Hampton Inn became my hotel of choice because the chain provided free breakfast cereal in the lobby and sometimes eggs on weekends. My mode of transportation provided by the campaign featured a minivan courtesy of Avis Rental, a company I won’t use today. I bounced from Sioux City, Iowa to Waterville, Maine where I tasted lobster for the first time and purchased clogs because it felt like the right thing to do in Maine.
The Election Night Party in Boston on the Kerry Edwards 2004 Presidential Campaign
It was not tough work but it was extremely stressful and demanding. Professionalism often went out the door and it became imperative to “make shit happen” quickly and inexpensively. My team consisted of college interns or newly graduated eager beavers. Every few days we moved to a new city, with different principals and we were expected to create 50-500 person public events in a matter of days. I shared rooms with campaign staffers who were hooking up or out all night drinking and I ran ridiculous errands to Target for supplies but my favorite part of the job was removing the “evidence” of the principal or senior staff’s existence. Mainly, I shredded confidential briefing memos and discarded empty bottles of wine.
Being on the campaign trail grows old with time. Mistakes are made. People are weary and temperamental. One time I played the song, “the Facts of Life“ at the end of a rally with Elizabeth Edwards. It was an accident since I cued up the wrong CD but upon hearing the lyrics, she scowled at me from across the room with a face of extreme disapproval. A pang of panic filled my body and then I giggled. A child of the 80s, I loved Mrs. Garrett who quite frankly reminded me of Mrs. Edwards. I hope to never forget that moment of laughter through the insanity.
You take the good, you take the bad, you take them both and there you have The facts of life, the facts of life.There’s a time you got to go and show You’re growin’ now you know about The facts of life, the facts of life.When the world never seems to be livin up to your dreams And suddenly you’re finding out the facts of life are all about you, you.
The excitement of being in Boston for Election Night did not last long. CNN called the election for President George W. Bush early in the night
Campaign life is not for everyone and I contend it’s mostly for the young and foolish. I vaguely recall earning $60 dollars on preparation days and $100 on game day (the day the principal arrives) and even less on travel days. Eating at strip malls, sleeping in sparse accommodations, flying with several connections to ensure the cheapest flight and being berated by angry voters eventually takes its toll but I can admit, I enjoyed every minute of it. When it was over and John Kerry lost, I found myself at the Westin Hotel in the Back Bay of Boston in the rain. I can still picture the faces on my friends, true supporters—sullen and disappointed. I went to bed.
The next morning, I called United Airlines to see how many miles I accumulated from my campaign work. I was on a train to New York City making my way to DC for a wedding.
“Hi, my mileage plus number is xxxx. I want to know how far I can travel on my miles.”
United: “You can go to Hong Kong, Hanoi, Bangkok and Sydney.”
Me: “I can go to Sydney?”
United: “Yes and you can even go First Class.”
Me: “What is the soonest date I can leave?”
United: “We have flights starting November 15.”
Me: “Great! I will book a one-way First Class trip from Chicago to Sydney departing November 15.”
And so began my life of solo travel around the globe. I thank John Kerry and the American people for that privilege. If the JK/JRE/THK/EE team delivered a victory in 2004, it’s possible my life would be very different. I often think about the lingo, my friends, the people I met in the cities I visited, the game day adrenaline and the hottie Secret Service Agents, “Wheels Up, Rings Off” and I share fond memories of my experience.
Elections matter –even this one– and I encourage everyone to participate in some capacity. Go vote!
Brad and Jodi reunited in Boston where campaign workers arrived from all over the country
*Disclaimer: I do not work for any of the Presidential Campaigns this cycle.
