Un-Alaskan

The hostile land,

The Great Land,

Called to him down in Georgia

So he ventured North, hitchhiking all the way.

By way of California

and Oregon

and North Dakota,

With only his backpack

and some change

(but not a change of plans),

and a map,

and a compass

to guide him.

What about a flashlight?

And money?

That first night camping,

he thought himself a modern day Thoreau

and decided to go

further north.

The weather hadn't turned yet.

No need for concern.

But wait,

a storm is brewing.

Weeks passed

and the fishing was abundant.

Nights under the stars

after visiting the bars

in town.

This was bliss,

or so he thought.
Days spent foraging,
nights spent sleeping in an old
abandoned bus.

Then the weather turned,
the waters rose,
and heaven knows,
he was scared,
with food supplies decreasing,
and no one to help,
despite repeated attempts.

Until finally he fell
into a permanent slumber,
sickened from seeds
from a poisonous plant.

He had only his journal.
So sad,
the end of this Super Tramp.

How Un-alaskan
of him

to die like that.