I recently had an opportunity to be on the road alone — partly for pleasure, to be sure, but with a business connection. I had a professional conference to attend in Fairbanks, Alaska. Instead of booking a round-trip flight from my home in Arkansas to the conference city I opted to cruise north to Alaska from Vancouver, British Columbia. I then spent a few days sightseeing near Denali National Park, finally arriving in Fairbanks the evening before my conference began.

After many years of marriage, my husband and I are well aware that our interests, priorities, enthusiasms, and commitments sometimes differ. That’s all good, and on several occasions over the years, we have kissed each other goodbye and wished one another safe travels. It’s just the way we do things. This was one of those times.

I simply could not resist the appeal of a seven-day cruise followed by a three-day land tour to Denali National Park. My husband, for his part, was not ready to embark on another cruise so soon after our epic Antarctic adventure earlier this year. So, for 16 days, my husband and I led separate lives. In addition to a memorable vacation experience, I told myself that this particular journey could be counted as a business trip, providing valuable background for future posts about traveling solo as a senior woman. And, yes, those planned posts are in their early stages as I write this.

The cruise was truly enjoyable, made even better by spending two days in Vancouver to visit with old friends — my own superb tour guides! I found solo cruising to be totally enjoyable, and not at all intimidating. In fact, I look forward to another solo travel experience should an opportunity arise. The land portion of the trip was almost exactly as I expected. Travel arrangements for the land portion of the trip were part of the cruise package, well-planned and executed by Princess Cruise Line. Even though May is the beginning of the season in Alaska, and local staff members were still learning their specific duties, transfers, tours and accommodations were perfectly choreographed.

We disembarked in a grey drizzle in the port city of Whittier and boarded a bus for the trip north to the mountains and the national park, stopping briefly in Anchorage. On the way north, the scenery becomes more dramatic and our driver was happy to point out our first view of Denali in the distance. We passed through small towns, including Wasilla and Talkeetna, and viewed the still-snow-covered terrain and ice-clogged rivers. Originally named for President McKinley in 1897, the name of this largest mountain in North America was changed in 2015 to Denali. In the indigenous language of early tribes in the area, the name means “the tall one,” or “the high one.”

Once we arrived at the Princess Mount McKinley Lodge, a beautiful facility with a “knock-your-socks off” view, I spent my first few hours warmed by the sun on the lodge’s wraparound deck. I was enthralled by the drama of clouds which parted only periodically to provide breathtaking views of the mountain known as “the great one.” It truly is.

I snapped far too many photographs of the changing vista as the late afternoon sun sank lower on the horizon. Denali, at an elevation of 20,310 feet, dwarfs surrounding peaks, but they are not mere foothills, and they have their own allure. Finally, when the clouds seemed to be massing to surround the mountain for the evening, I decided to make my way inside.

I found an unoccupied seat at a bar counter in the casual lounge. My seat still offered a commanding view of the faraway mountain ranges through the great room’s wall-to-wall windows. Tired from a day of traveling, I ordered a glass of wine, content to simply relax in comfortable surroundings.

My attentive server asked if I wanted to order dinner and suggested I begin with a bowl of hot fish chowder. Happy to not have to make a decision, I agreed that would be good. We chatted a bit as I waited.

He had returned to Alaska the previous week to work at this lodge for a second summer. A university student in the lower 48, he said that his experience the previous year hadn’t seemed quite long enough. This year, his girlfriend had signed on for summer work as well.

This was the first of many conversations I would have over the next few days with the summer employees who arrive in Alaska eager for adventure. Must of the seasonal employees are U.S. or Canadian students. All are happy to have the opportunity to earn money working in one of the top vacation destinations on the globe. Many have returned year after year. Most try to save the bulk of their earnings for the coming school year. Not a one complained about the hours or the work load. And every one admitted to seizing every possible opportunity to hike or camp in the adjacent national and state parks or to explore nearby towns and villages. Almost all planned to return to the lower 48 at the end of the summer to continue their schooling.

I listened willingly to the stories of other servers and staff. I joked with the bartender, and I exchanged smiles with other guests. When my chowder arrived, they all gave me “space” to enjoy my light meal. Suddenly hungry, I ate, sipped my wine, and thought how lucky I was to be in this place at that time. But, in that moment, sitting in a crowded bar in the shadow of a great mountain, I also had to admit that I missed my husband. It was an experience I would have enjoyed sharing with him.

In Alaska, in May, it’s light late into the evening and as I finished my chowder, Denali’s snow-covered summit was once again visible. Despite the many previous pictures I had taken, I wanted just a few more in the twilight of the day.

I was eager to make my way out to the deck once again, and I signaled for my check. As we settled up, this young server and I agreed that getting to know one another was a highlight of the evening. As I stood to leave, he looked at me and asked if he could give me a hug. Somewhat taken aback, I hesitated for just a moment.

He confessed, “You remind me of my grandmother, and I miss her.”

Of course we hugged, and I believe we both treasured that brief connection in a place far away. This time, the human connection was more memorable than the food. And this brief encounter with a stranger was at least equal to my last view of Denali on that day.