What happens when two people meet on a dance floor in a country bar in Fairbanks, Alaska?
They get married within the year, adopt a dog, go on a four-month road trip in a Ford Focus and adopt another dog while driving through Texas. The honeymoon is funded by her selling her motorcycles and him winning a few karaoke competitions.
They spend a few years figuring out how to get back to the road trip kind of life. She becomes an engineer. He’s a process tech. She makes money, he makes money. They spend all of it on the house, and the garden, and the meals out, and the two weeks of vacation a year, and his many beloved off road vehicles. (They did save for retirement. Save for retirement!)
They buy a boat.
She finagles a transfer to Juneau.
They trailer the boat to Juneau, and she gets to live on it while he sells the house and finishes up his job. Right after the house sells, and he gets jobs offers in Juneau, his old job makes him an offer he can’t refuse. She realizes they can now travel half the year, and immediately takes off for Hong Kong to visit her best friend. He joins her for a month. They go back to Alaska. They take off in a decrepit Toyota Chinook, driving down to Baja. They road trip across the country.
They return to Alaska for his seasonal employment. They sell the boat. She takes off again on a solo road trip across the country to see her grandmother. And hike. She returns. They buy another, better, Chinook, and use it to build a 4×4 conversion. They return to Baja, and then travel across the US again.
Next summer, they plot for months on what to do that winter. They spend a weekend in Seward, and he sees a boat. She sees the boat. A week later, they own a boat.
They fix up the boat a bit, make friends. They sail out the following spring to cross the Gulf of Alaska, and discover their dog isn’t much for pooping on the high seas. They decide exploding dog is bad. They return, confident in their boat. He goes back to work, she works on the boat.
In fall, they find someone to watch their dog, and they cross to Cordova in preparation for crossing the Gulf of Alaska–losing their autopilot on the way into Cordova. They decide they aren’t the ‘hand-steering for fourteen days’ types, and instead slowly work their way back to Seward, anchorage by anchorage. Turns out they love gunkholing in the ridiculously beautiful and remote anchorages of Prince William Sound, when the cold drives everyone else away. They grab their dog, fix their A/P, and now they are completing a few more projects before sailing out again.
Where will they go? Will they ever cross the Gulf of Alaska? Will an old dog learn to poop on the deck?