Posted from The Citrus Report
I grew up in a small town about 49 miles north of Anchorage. My friends and I spent our time hiking, biking, and riding snow-machines (you lower 48 types call them snowmobiles, but this is Alaska week, so get with the times.) In many ways I am grateful for the outdoor life I was given. But times change and so do towns I guess. My once humble town of Wasilla was given a small, harmless gift that grew into a monster. It started with a McDonald’s some time ago. Now this burgeoning town is jam packed (along one, single road) with every box store in America. Wasilla lake is now sandwiched on either shore with a Pizza Hut and a Fred Meyer Super Center. With the claim of highest grossing Wal-Mart in the country, who could resist? The solution? Build a bigger Wal-Mart. Though many residents of this town work in Anchorage, Wasilla is not without it’s own industry; for the most part those being gravel pits, churches, and drive through coffee stands. I was a little let down when I saw a church built IN a gravel pit, but lacked a drive up window for some salvation and caffeine. Really, you can’t make this stuff up. Wasilla has seen its ups and downs, but there has always been one constant rock. Ever since I was a little boy, to just this summer during a visit, I could always count on the Mug Shot Saloon. Wetting palettes and inspiring…stuff. —Brad H.