Reflecting on why we moved to Slana

Our family was enjoying a meal together around the dining table in our Palmer home back in early summer 1999. This didn't happen often because our kids (Patrick and Erin) were already living out on their own. "Pop and I are going to put the house up for sale this summer and move to Slana," I announced while we ate.

"You've got to be kidding" and "But that's out in the middle of nowhere" were a couple of the responses we got. They weren't surprised about us selling the house; they knew that was coming. In fact, Gary had said more than once that he wanted to move out of the Mat-Su Borough (and away from Borough taxes) as soon as Erin graduated from high school in May 1997 and here it was two years later. The relocation to Slana was what took them by surprise.

After the discussion died down, Patrick asked in all seriousness, "Have you really thought about what you are planning to do?"

"Of course," I answered, "What kind of question is that?"

"Well, that's what you guys always ask me whenever I'm thinking about doing something wild and crazy!" he replied with a grin. We assured him that we had not lost our minds. And we would have much to do over the next few months...sell our house, quit our jobs, have a garage sale, and take care of all the other details necessary for a major move.

My mother had purchased a log cabin in Slana back in 1993 (long story) but since she passed away, Dad was stuck with it. He even tried to sell it through Remote Property Realty with no luck. Gary and I had never seen it. When we learned that Dad planned to travel from his home in Homer to Slana and spend two weeks camped out in the cabin in March 1999, we decided to join him. We could take some time off from work during spring break and make the trip to Slana to check out the cabin and enjoy snowmachining fun, too.

Gary was quite interested in the possibility of living there. I was less than enthused. We knew there was no commercial power in the area and people used generators. Having enjoyed life in Palmer for 15 years, I was quite happy with our house, our yard, our friends, our church and my two part-time jobs. I remember thinking that if it was a shabby little cabin, I could say to Gary, "I have followed you many places during the last 25 years and several times lived in less-than-ideal conditions. At this point in my life, I refuse to live in a small cabin that has no running water or electricity." However, I agreed to at least check out the situation before voicing those words out loud.

When we knocked at the cabin door that first evening, Dad greeted us with a flashlight, then gave us a flashlight tour of the house room by room. The generator had not been started in two years, and Dad wasn't ready to do so yet.

The house was cold, dark, and very empty, but also very lovely. It was obvious the builders had put their hearts into this beautiful log building. It certainly wasn't some rinky-dink little cabin and supposedly when the generator was operating, electricity and running water would be normal. That night I lay on my camping air mattress for hours thinking and finally fell asleep "arranging my furniture" in this potential new home. A week later, we called Dad to ask him if he would be willing to rent it to us.

Arriving in Slana October 4, 1999, we were greeted with a foot of fresh snow. We shoveled a path to the doorstep, built a fire in the barrel stove, and slept on a mattress on the floor. As I thought about how crazy it was to move to Interior Alaska when it was already winter, I remembered that Dad and Mom moved to Glennallen in January 1963 with four kids aged 9 months to 7 years, and that worked out fine.

The next day (late morning) the professional moving van with two strong guys arrived with all our furniture and belongings. It took a month of hard work to settle into the house. Gary quickly learned the ins and outs of usage and maintenance of the generator, and I knew I could count on electricity and running water several hours each day. We ordered a load of firewood logs from a business in Tok. We began attending a church in Chistochina and attended the Halloween carnival at the Slana School to begin to get to know our new neighbors.

A year later, we decided to commit to the area. We purchased the property and house from Dad. I got a job as an aide at the Slana School, and we started Nabesna House Bed and Breakfast.

When Patrick and Erin finally saw our new home during their 1999 Christmas visit, they no longer thought we were crazy. Maybe a little out of touch, but not crazy. During the following years, both kids visited separately in various seasons. They enjoyed "getting away from it all." Once I heard one of them refer to our place as "Pop and Mom's little Shangri-La."

Gary and I lived nearly all our married life in Alaska, moving often for various reasons. Sometimes in our discussion of location, Gary would ask, "How about Glennallen (where I grew up)?" I would reply, "Too cold, too remote." Ironically, while living in Slana, when we would go to "town" for the day, we could be referring to either Tok or Glennallen. We had no regrets about our move to Slana. In fact, the only reason we reluctantly moved back to Palmer in 2011 was because of the need to be closer to medical facilities.

Gary missed his (sometimes daily) 4-wheeler trips during the summer to a nearby creek to fish for grayling; I missed the fall berry picking (especially blueberries), and we both missed our beautiful log home. It took almost three years for the little ranch style house we purchased in Palmer to feel like home. But life must go on and change is inevitable. I now look back on our Slana years with fondness, knowing how fortunate I was to experience that lifestyle at least for a time.

Maraley McMichael is a lifelong Alaskan now residing in Palmer. Email her at maraleymcmichael@gmail.com.