I slowed the Jeep as I drove up to the Alcan Port of Entry which was the border post between Alaska and Canada. I had driven through Anchorage, past Palmer and Glennallen and onto Tok. I was dead tired, but I had to keep going. Once in Canada, I would breathe more easily, at least that’s what I told myself.
I waited to go through the border for about two hours and I finally passed through without any problems. I drove further on until I saw the sign for Burwash Landing. I had phoned earlier and made a reservation for myself. I’d been driving for close to fourteen hours and I needed to sleep.
As I crossed the Canadian Border, I stopped to disconnect my GPS and bought new clothes, shoes and toiletries. I would look odd dressed in my suit, especially with the blood-stained cuffs from when I
