What Alaska Taught Me About the River

The Everyday Pilgrim · Cover Yr Assets · June 2026

There's something about standing at the end of a street in Anchorage and watching snow-capped mountains rise up — raw, enormous, unhurried — at the edge of everything. No buildup. No warning. Just mountains, filling the frame wherever you look. It stopped me every single time.

I wasn't expecting that. I keep thinking I know what a place will feel like before I get there. Alaska doesn't let you do that. Alaska doesn't care what you were expecting.

A Mom, a Baby, and a Car Wash

We were in a car wash parking lot — the most ordinary place you can imagine — when a mama moose and her baby just walked through. Completely unbothered. No announcement, no fanfare. Just life moving through the middle of the mundane like it had every right to be there.

Because it did.

That's the thing about the everyday pilgrim. You don't have to be on the Camino to be on the Camino. The sacred doesn't wait for you to find the right trail or wear the right boots. It shows up in parking lots. It shows up in the spaces between your plans.

The Expansiveness Is the Point

What I wasn't prepared for was how expansive Anchorage feels. Not just the mountains. Not just the sky. The whole thing — the way the city breathes, the way people move through it, the way there's always more horizon than you can hold.

It made me think about the women I work with. How often we shrink ourselves into the space we think we're allowed to take up. How we edit our story down to something manageable, something palatable, something that won't ask too much of anyone.

Alaska doesn't do that. Alaska takes up every inch of itself without apology.

The River Runs Through All of It

I've been talking about the hidden river — the thread that runs beneath every version of your life and connects it all into something coherent, something with purpose. Most of us can't see it while we're living it. We just see the separate pools: the career, the detour, the loss, the reinvention.

But Alaska showed me the river doesn't disappear just because it goes underground. It's still moving. It's still carving the landscape. It's still going somewhere.

The nurse. The minister. The pilgrim. The speaker. That's not a scattered life. That's a river. And the weaver knows how to show you the pattern in what looked like loose threads.

Cover Yr Assets is my river. It's where every piece of my story finally made sense — and it's the work I was always moving toward.

And Then There's the Skort

Speaking of things that just make sense — let me tell you about the Stealth Skort.

I've been on enough trails, enough road trips, enough "there's no bathroom for 40 miles" moments to know that women have been quietly dealing with a problem nobody talks about. Finding a private, sanitary place to relieve yourself outdoors. Traditional clothing fails you every time. Dignity shouldn't be a luxury.

The Stealth Skort is patent-pending and built for exactly this. It features an unsnappable pantie for easy relief without exposure — stylish, comfortable, eco-conscious, and designed for the woman who's done apologizing for needing to exist fully in the world.

Women 45-70 who hike, road trip, travel, camp, and live out loud — this is for you.

Ready to get yours or get involved?

Visit coveryrassets.com to learn more about the Stealth Skort and everything else we're building for women who refuse to shrink.

The river keeps moving. Come with us.