Join us at the Talkeetna Bachelors Auction!

On a dark winter night in 1981, regulars at the Fairview Inn in Talkeetna, Alaska, looked around and realized that every single person in the room could pee standing up.

Where were all the women? Someplace else! So the town’s bachelors decided to throw an irresistible party.

Thus was born the Talkeetna Bachelor Auction and Wilderness Woman Competition, a double-barreled event designed to bring women to the snowy confines of this small town near Mt. McKinley. It takes place this year during the weekend of Dec. 4, 5 and 6.

I’m going. Again. You wanna go, too?

 

Talkeetna is one of several Alaska towns purported to have inspired the town in “Northern Exposure.” It’s small, there are log cabins but no traffic lights, and the local public radio station broadcasts messages to and from homesteaders living off the grid. But it’s best known as the jumping-off place for climbers who want to tackle McKinley, which the locals call “Denali.”

When I lived in Alaska my friend Linda Billington and I used to go up on the first weekend in December each year to celebrate my birthday and to have a screamingly good time. “Screaming” is the word: The kind of whooping and hollering that goes on during the auction makes the Log Cabin VFW shiver – and it really is made of logs.

Single women, listen up: You may never again feel this universally desired. The local bachelors wait all year for this and are determined to show female visitors a good time. Your dance card will be as full as you want it to be.

And yeah, what happens in Talkeetna stays in Talkeetna.

Linda and I usually rent the entire top floor of the Latitude 62 hotel, a very basic establishment with a bar and restaurant, and we’d be up for splitting the cost with roommates. The earlier you signed on, the more likely you’d get a real bed vs. a rollaway or the couchlike things in the middle room.

There are technically nicer places to stay, but we like the Latitude – the food is good and the conversation is better, and the hotel has its own dog you can go downstairs to pet.

Believe me when I say “very basic.” The rooms don’t have TVs or telephones. But what do you need those things for? You’ll keep plenty busy on Saturday during the morning and afternoon, and you’ll want a nap before the auction and dance.

 

Breakfast with a bachelor

In years past the fun always began on Fridays evenings with bingo at the aforementioned VFW. What looked like half the town would wedge itself into the hall and play elbow to elbow for prizes apparently picked up at the Costco in Anchorage.

Some money prizes are given, though. One year another woman and I both yelled “Bingo!” at the same time in the $100 game. We were given the chance to cut the cards for the prize, but I was too chicken. So we each got $50 cash, which I spent the next day at the local school’s holiday bazaar – improving the local economy, you might say.

The bachelors traditionally cook a pancake and sausage breakfast on Saturdays, too – a good way to fortify yourself for standing around watching the competition. If you get cold there’s a bonfire, or you can run into Nagley’s General Store to warm up with coffee or cocoa. (Even so, plan to bring long johns, wool and fleece. It can get pretty nippy. On the other hand, it might be in the 20s.)

I hope the breakfast and the bingo both happen this year. The bingo is run separately and organizers are meeting this week to discuss it. The auction/competition are in transition because D.X. Russell and Pam Rannals, the two women who kept it going (read: did a lot of the work and kicked the bachelors’ butts to make sure they did their part), have bowed out after years of service.

The president of the Talkeetna Bachelors Society told me that the competition and auction will happen. Of course, if I were able to tell him that a bunch of wild Outside wimmen were heading north, that would encourage the doings to be especially festive.

Think of it: Alaska in December! On purpose! But seriously, ladies, you can dine out on these stories for months: the moose, the northern lights, the potential for a sled-dog ride or a flight-see of Denali…

And, of course, the men. That’s another reason to come up on Friday: You can hit the Latitude and other local watering holes to preview the XY pulchritude that will be up for grabs at the auction.

 

Snaggin’ and shootin’

Any woman can enter the Wilderness Woman Competition. It’s a jokey race to do tasks such as driving a snowmachine (they’ll teach you how), carrying water, shooting a moose (a guy in costume, who dies most dramatically when you nail him with a paintball gun), loading firewood, snagging Styrofoam salmon, and bringing a sandwich and beer to a griping bachelor.

(Most of the food and beverage lands on the bachelor, to the delight of the spectators. They’ve taken to swathing the guy in Visqueen.)

At the Saturday night auction, women will find out if they won. They’ll also be able to bid for the attentions of the Talkeetna men, some of whom clean up real nice and some of whom, well, don’t. There’s a reason for that old saying about the more-men-than-women ratio: “The odds are good – but the goods are odd.”

Incidentally, both the competition and the auction are absolutely all in fun. The money raised supports several local charities.

 

How to get there

Talkeetna is a real Alaska experience, but an accessible one: Fly to Anchorage on Friday and rent a car. Talkeetna is about 115 miles north of Anchorage.

Nervous about driving on snow? They do plow. Honest! But you can also arrange to have Denali Overland Transportation Company send a car for you. That’s a bit pricey ($300 per person one-way), but less so if you have a group.

Or stay the night in Anchorage and get up hecka early to catch the 8 a.m. northbound on the Alaska Railroad. That will set you back $70 each way, but it’s a gorgeous ride and, more to the point, the bachelors meet the train with love and longing in their eyes.

Like I said: You will never feel this gorgeous again.

Interested? E-mail me with any questions at SurvivingAndThriving (at) live (dot) com. I’m serious about the roommate thing, too. Linda’s already rented the top floor, and that dog downstairs is waiting to be petted. So are the bachelors.

Related reading:

• Live from Alaska: Frozen pipes, bachelors on credit and suggestive pizza (scenes from the 2010 auction)
• Snow days
• Br’er Rabbit and Br’er Bear, Alaska-style (aka “A fed bear is a dead bear”)
• Live from Alaska: A sphincter-factor moment