I stayed in Cooper Landing for one more night and headed to Homer the next day. I decided on Homer because it was near Kachemak Bay, which is where Jewel’s family on the reality show “Alaska Last Frontier” live. (Yes, Jewel, the singer Jewel.)

Don’t judge me, I love that show, and it was one of the main inspirations for my Alaskan adventure.

I had booked plans to go horseback riding on a 2,000-pound Percheron draft horse through the forest. Well, it used to be a forest, but there was a big fire a few years ago, so much of the vegetation was burnt to a crisp.

The horseback meeting point was literally off the grid. My Google maps stopped working at some point. The blue dot just stayed in one spot on the app while the display of the map became blank.

There was also no more road, it was all rocks and dirt. I drove in about a good five miles before seeing Ron, which seemed endless when you’re fearing the worst for your tires.

I had an interesting conversation with Ron during our ride, and he shared his personal story about how he ended up in Alaska.

I rode a gentle and thunder of a horse called Liberty. It’s the horse Ron uses to go hunting, so I felt like this adventure was a treat, since I’ve only really been on raggedy-looking trail horses that don’t listen and eat incessantly on the trails. It’s pretty sad.

Ron’s horses were not sad. They were Alaskan horses!

After signing some waiver paperwork and putting on my horseman’s raincoat, we were off.

Liberty was so massive, she just trampled over small trees and large bushes. At times, I had to lift my legs into the saddle so my jeans wouldn’t get torn from the sharp branches. I imagined Liberty to get a stabbed, or at the least, suffer a bad cut as she bulldozed through, but surprisingly, she was just fine.

We rode through the dry Alaskan valley. It drizzled slightly, and I noticed there were no trails. We just rode wherever Ron led us. The air was cold, and my hands were frozen, even though I came somewhat prepared with my thin Isotoner gloves.

Getting to know Ron

While we rode, I couldn’t take my eyes off the vast Alaskan valley, and in the distance, Ron pointed out his house to me. He built it himself, and I learned that Ron was quite the entrepreneur. He had a dozen or so apple orchards, and also grew tomatoes and other fresh fruits and veggies that he’d sell at the farmer’s market every weekend.

He said he would use the farmer’s market as a way to get tourists to ride his horses. He told me a really fat, short southern woman rode Justice and fell off. Twice. He chuckled, “Do you know how hard it is to get a round 200-pound woman on a horse that tall?!”

When I asked Ron why he decided to move to Alaska, he said he had always been some what of an outsider, and wanted the freedom to do as he pleased, especially with his land. According to Ron, living this way meant the greedy hand of Uncle Sam stayed out of his pockets.

I asked if he ever felt lonely, being so far from civilization, and he scoffed. He told me that he’s quite the social guy. Being isolated is a relative term.

He went on to say he’s very involved in his town, teaches kids at the local community center, sells his fruits and veggies on weekends at the farmer’s market, and has many close friends that he visits often. When he goes hunting for moose, he always shares it with his peeps.

Speaking of moose, I was utterly disappointed when I discovered that you can’t actually sit down at a restaurant and order up some moose. You need to know a guy who hunts. He told me he literally just ran out of moose, but if he had some, he would’ve been happy to share it with me. Damn.

As we rode back to the stable, Ron told me other ideas he had for his horse-riding business, one of which involved drones that would take photos of patrons while they rode Liberty or Justice.

I liked Ron. He was definitely a character, and I learned a lot from our two hours together on our relaxing ride.

When we finished, he removed the saddles from the horses and to my surprise, they rolled around in the grass, like dogs! Except, unlike dogs, when they got back on their feet, you could hear a deep thud from the giant hooves making contact with the ground. So cool.

Ron took out a ziplock bag of frosted mini wheats and called the horses over for a treat… because, what else do 2,000-pound draft horses like to snack on? He handed some over to me and they ate (and slobbered) all over my hands, and all over the front of my vest too.

I thanked him and ran to the cleanest, most serene outhouse ever (Ron built it for his wife), and jumped in my Subaru.

Off to my next adventure!

Homer, here I come

With my audiobook playing, I headed south to Homer. I planned on checking the Homer Spit, which is a skinny strip of land with shops, restaurants, and bars.

It’s a gathering place for locals and tourists from other parts of Alaska. I talked to a couple from Juno who were on their honeymoon.

It was the most populated place I had been since arriving to Alaska. Even Anchorage wasn’t this crowded.

I parked the car and walked around the strip. There were plenty of souvenir shops, restaurants, guided tours you could sign up for, and bars.

I decided to buy some local coffee — a giant bag of beans for $20. I usually buy up some of the local coffee or tea when I travel.

In Homer, stayed at a place called Juneberry Lodge. The owners were a lovely couple from Seattle who purchased the home from an old woman in her 90s named June.

They turned it into a bed and breakfast.

My room was comfortable and the windows faced a hill with trees. The next morning in the kitchen, I met the other guests in the house, and we ate pancakes drizzled in wild blueberry syrup (Alaskan made), drank coffee and exchanged our “what we’re doing in Alaska” stories.

Many of the guests were off to go kayaking or to see the glaciers. One guest from Chicago was with his elderly father, who flew in from Sicily. It was an epic, 20-hour journey, or something crazy! They said they had tried to go fishing, but it was too windy, and everyone on the boat became massively sea sick.

Another woman said she lost her cell phone while she was hiking. It just fell out of her pocket and fell between some rocks, lost forever.

The owner of the lodge told me about a secluded Russian village called Voznesenka 15 miles “at the end of the road” near Kachemak Selo. Little did he know he was talking to the girl who is fascinated by all things isolated. (North Korea, anyone?)

I had to see it. So I drove down, and I happened to see a young moose on the road, the second one I saw since driving through Alaska.

I slowly followed the moose as far as I could go, and kind of felt like I was doing some version of a drive-by, but without any guns or violence.

The drive there and the surrounding views were hands down, THE most monumental thing I’d ever encountered. It was simply breathtaking. It was so expansive. It had just rained too, so the heavy skies added drama to the beautiful landscape below.

I had to stop periodically to take pictures.

I made it to the end, and drove through the secluded town. There were small homes alongside dirt roads, with giant trucks parked outside.

I felt like people driving by were giving me weird looks, but maybe I was just paranoid because the owner of the lodge told me the residents in the village don’t like outsiders. Since then, I heard this was absolutely not true.

Anchorage, the place I wanted to like