Mount Healy

I love that it's the middle of the season, and I still haven't hiked all the trails on the east end of the park. Maybe that makes me a bad ranger, but I like to savor the place. But now after last weekend, I only have one trail yet to be hiked.

My second-to-last was Mount Healy, arguably the most strenuous of our east end hikes. It gains almost 2,000' in elevation over 2 miles, with about a 25% grade most of the way up.

About halfway up Mt. Healy

Sugarloaf Mountain Loaf

As I staggered up to the narrow plateau where most of my other hiking companions were already resting, I felt sharply aware of how out of shape I was for this steep of a trail. Nothing can really prepare you for a nearly vertical trek up 2,000 feet of elevation in less than 2 miles (ROUGH estimate), especially when you've been in flat Florida for the last 6 months.

View of Denali Park area from the ridge

Nonetheless, panting and gasping for breath as I broke out of the treeline, the view was nothing short of spectacular. I could see all of the headquarters of Denali National Park and Preserve, from the visitor center to the post office all the way back to C-Camp. 

Living Alaska

I forgot how much I love late summer in Alaska. There is so much to do; the scenery is ever-changing; salmon are schooling at the mouth of the river; and the rainforest has exploded with a buffet of wild edibles. Salmonberries, blueberries, and huckleberries weigh down the bushes and color the landscape with dots of blue, red, orange, and yellow.

Life in the Bush

I have been intermittently aware over the last few months that I've failed to thoroughly described to you what it is really like to live in the Alaskan bush. Maybe you've gotten some idea if you've read enough of my posts, or if you remember some of my initial deer-in-the-headlights reactions when I first moved here 7 months ago.

But every so often, I am reminded that what has become daily routine and "normal" life for me was a totally foreign concept last year and still is for 99% of my friends and family.

The "beach"

On gratitude, love, and a village

This Thanksgiving, I am thankful to be alone. And I don't mean it ironically, but most sincerely from the bottom of my heart. I am alone because I am fortunate. I am alone because I am loved enough for my family and friends to let me go off and reach my own stars. I am alone because I love my family and friends enough to be able to leave and come back, knowing I still have a home and a community.

I am thankful to be alone because it allows me to reflect on these things and realize that not only am I comfortable enough with myself to enjoy a Thanksgiving in solitude, but that I also have so much to be thankful for.

A taste of success

Whole wheat, no-milk, fresh-picked-blueberry muffins

Okay, I gotta brag just a little here, mostly because I've totally surprised myself. So if you know me at all, you probably know I'm terrible in the kitchen. I have yet to master the art of cookie-baking, or even venture into much creativity with my regular meals.

But the 48 oz. tupperware of blueberries sitting in my fridge has been burning a hole in the shelf, so tonight I figured it was time to do something about it.