Juneau the Capital of Alaska?

The sun rose in Skagway around 4 a.m. and shortly thereafter Ashley and I were on our way on the Alaska Marine Highway to Juneau, the only U.S. capital inaccessible by road. We slept for most of the six-hour ferry ride, and I took the liberty of using the hot and clean showers on board so as to not feel like so much of a vagabond (though in doing so maybe I perpetuated my vagabond status?).

There was rain in Juneau when we arrived, and there was rain in Juneau when we left. I can't picture the city in sunlight. From the ferry terminal, we shared a cab with a Texan and a mother and daughter from Germany to the city center and then went straightaway to our second Couch Surfing abode.

Jason Mancuso, at work when we arrived, left his apartment wide-open for us, and we were thrilled to find a Couch Surfing room with maps and postcards and Broncos, beer and Brazil paraphernalia around the apartment. But that was only the start of our positive experience with Jason.

Jason came home with a six-pack of Sierra Nevada Pale Ale, and after we got to know each other a bit over the first couple of beers, we went out on the town on Jason, something he says he does for all Couch Surfing guests. While strolling through Juneau, Jason pointed out pockets where he has had run-ins with bears, and he also pointed out the governor's house, where one Couch Surfer climbed the fence to jump on the trampoline that Palin had there for her kids - while she was inhabiting the place and in town!

So we met up with Jason's friend Canadian Mike for beers at a dive called the Buoy Deck (it's mostly frequented by members of the Coast Guard) and then had dinner, which for me was salmon fettucini, and listened to a soulful songstress at a waterfront restaurant called The Hangar.

On our second day in Juneau Ashley and I visited the Mendenhall Glacier, which has been flowing for almost 250 years over its 13-mile trek and which is part of the 3,000+ year-old Juneau icefield that covers 1,500 square miles of land. We hiked a few miles up and around the glacier in a moss-covered rainforest; saw a juvenile black bear hiding up in a tree after snacking at a salmon-filled stream; and tasted some of the glacial ice that had washed up on the shore. After hitching a ride with a couple from Taos and busing it back into Juneau, we got ready to go camping with Jason, Canadian Mike and Rocky, Canadian Mike's black lab.

We set out on Douglas Island, just a short bridge away from Juneau, on a 3-mile hike to a federally owned, barebones cabin called the Dan Moller cabin. The hike, an uphill battle with a system of plank steps, was enough to make us feel like we were miles and miles from town, and the scenery was gorgeous. Wild cotton and ripened berries lined the path, and the mountains were lush and eery, with an abundance of fog and mist. Jason sped off ahead with Rocky, and Mike kept Ashley and me company. He offered us some salmon berries and a melon berry, which I ate, and I kept thinking of how trusting it was to follow two near-strangers into the woods and to accept "candy" from them. I placed a lot of faith in my and Ashley's instincts and intuition and thought, "What the hell?".

The cabin was rustic but comfortable. "Twat lickr" was carved above the doorway (and numbers of girl scout and boy scout troops were carved throughout), and a propane heater kept the cabin pretty warm. The guys brought a smorgasbord of snacks and some wine and Bulleit bourbon - my favorite, in fact, because Jason was a great host and eager to please. We got to better know the guys, who acted like an old married couple, and I came to see that Jason was extremely jovial and easy-going and that Mike was high-strung and A.D.D. - a perfect balance. Jason told us about his plans to travel and to move back to Portland to be with his girlfriend, and Mike told us about his job at a salmon hatchery and his beloved Rocky (who was farting up a storm since Mike fed him homemade fish jerky). Both were personable and intelligent and made us feel completely at ease, but mostly I was blown away by how generous they could be to two strangers.

We tuckered in at the cabin, and I spooned for most of the night with Rocky, who had finally stopped farting. The next day we hiked back through the pouring rain, and Ashley and I treated our gracious hosts to pizza at The Island Pub. Mike took us back to the ferry terminal for our return trip to Skagway, and though we were sad to leave him and Jason, we knew there were more adventures further North.