A friend was chastising me recently, wondering where the blog accounts of my adventures in Alaska were. I had to reply that, sadly, there hadn’t been much in the way of adventure since I returned north. Rather, I’ve mostly been preoccupied with the punch list for my house, playing beer league hockey and the various aspects of my job search.
Well, hockey ended this past weekend (we lost in the championship game, 1-0) and the punch list is in great shape (got most of the insulation up in the basement yesterday). So following the quite-encouraging lunch I had today with some folks regarding a potential job opportunity, I took a drive out the Seward Highway to Girdwood and back.
The drive east-southeast from Anchorage to Girdwood is about 35 miles long or so, and winds alongside Turnagain Arm, the eastern fork of Cook Inlet, which leads up from the Gulf of Alaska and the Pacific Ocean to form the triangle at the base of the Chugach Mountains that is Anchorage. It is, without question, one of the most beautiful drives in North America, if not the world — especially on a sunny day after fresh snow. Mountains leap up on either side of the arm, which is transited by fierce tidal currents daily. Glaciers wind down toward sea level at the head of Turnagain Arm and winds equal in ferocity to the tides often race the length of the fjord. Dall sheep bound around their craggy cliffs above the roadway.
And in winter, the scenery is even more impressive. The mountains are swathed in snow, even in this thin-snow winter, and form brilliant-white teeth biting into a sky that is that unique-to-high-latitudes shade of blue. Streams of snowmelt cascade below retreating avalanche deposition. And the mudflats at low tide are gouged by the retreating and advancing current, while the flats are littered as far as the eye can see with huge blocks of iced mud tilted in all sorts of non-right angles.
It was, today, quite exactly what the doctor ordered.
As I ponder various opportunities — both in and out of Alaska — for the next stage of my life, it’s always rewarding to get out into Alaska, even if it’s just for a Sunday drive (on a Thursday). And as much as Anchorage is home and is comfortable, it’s not capital-A Alaska. But all it takes is an hour-long drive along Turnagain Arm to make me wonder: why in the hell would I ever think about leaving Alaska? What a wonderful, special place.
On a bluebird day after an overnight snowfall, it’s THAT good a drive.
(Thanks, Sam, for the kick in the ass to get outta town.)