Last Monday, my husband and I were lucky enough to ride the Alaska Scenic Railroad. It was perfect. A nice beautiful morning of sunshine and watching the mountains creep by. I would say race by, but the train moves so slowly, creep is really the more accurate description.
Since we are employees, we were put in a car otherwise occupied by a Boy Scout troop on their Great Alaskan Adventure. I know that’s what it was called as those words were plastered all over their packs. The customer/food/professional smiler manager told us we could go to another car, but between visiting the viewing car and the food car, we were fine.
We spent the majority of our time in the dome roofed viewing car.
When a bunch of the Boy Scouts wanted a chance at the seats, we left, but on our way out, the train passed over a road. There was an RV stuck on one side and two cars on the other, which, by Alaska standards, is a full on traffic jam.
Some of the boys started screaming and pointing out the window. I thought it was a bear, but no no, it was a bare behind. The people from the RV had run to the sides of the tracks, and one man was holding his man business in his hand and waggling it at us. He then turned and ran away. One of the female Boy Scout leaders screamed, “That is not something we do, boys!”
We made our way back down to the normal train car, and the waggler was the talk of the town. All the boys wanted to know was who had seen the “full moon.” One of the boys who had missed the show asked, “Well, was it big?” which garnered a huge, “Why would you ask that?” from the other boys.
The first boy shrugged and said, “Did he deserve to do it?”