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Alaska to Pakistan in Three Days Islamabad, Pakistan - Tuesday, June 13, 2000
As it has been said many times before, "The only constant is change," and in this modern world the rate of change has accelerated dramatically. It's June 8th and I'm waiting on the side of the Denali Highway to be picked up, after leading a 30-day NOLS mountaineering course in the Eastern Alaskan Range. The ground is muddy and dull, still asleep under a patchy layer of snow. Willow ptarmigan, announcing the spring season, squawk noisily, as their camouflage begins to change from white to mottled brown. Pacing on the side of the road, I spook an 800-pound grizzly bear, who rises on its hind legs, barks and hisses before bolting into an alder thicket, leaving my heart redlining in first gear as the bus arrives. Less than 72 hours later, I'm in a taxi weaving through the traffic in downtown Islamabad, Pakistan. The former British influence has left its mark on the transportation of this country, with vehicles travelling on the left side of the road and the steering wheel on the right side of the car. I'm seated next to the driver. He chats about the weather in fairly good English and I feel embarrassed by my lack of Urdu. In front of us the heat rises from the tarmac in hazy waves. The ambient temperature hovers around 100° F. I roll my window up to prevent the air, moving at 40mph, from searing my skin. Suddenly, a motorcycle darts in front of us. The taxi driver pumps the brakes and swerves to the right and we squeeze between an ox-driven cart and a concrete barricade. With my heart in my throat I glance at the driver who returns my bug-eyed expression with a smile and a confident, "No problem." "No problem", I stutter back, happy to still be in Pakistan. — Dave Anderson, MountainZone.com Correspondent
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