Flattop: Anchorage, Alaska

So far the day has been a good one. I’m surprised as to how much we saw in such a short period of time. From driving down Old Seward Highway, seeing the Wildlife Animal Conservation Center, to stopping in the Alyeska Ski Resort for a nice cocktail. (An Old Fashioned… please?!) Now we are here; the most climbed mountain in Anchorage, Alaska: Flattop. 

In the city, the streets were dry, iceless, but the air was crisp. The moment I took a breath, it became visible. “Goodness it’s so cold.” He looked at me with a smile, “welcome to Alaska.” “What a smart remark,” I thought. As we drove up the base of the mountain, snow seemed to accumulate in between the rocks, the crevasses of the mountain, and on the fir trees which covered the Alaskan mountain ranges. The sky was a deep blue filled with clouds mimicking the white mountain tops.

He pulled over into a parking space, pulled the key out of the ignition, turned to me with the biggest smile I’ve ever seen and asked me, “let’s go?” I reached for my headband to cover my ears, quickly grabbed my scarf, threw it around my neck, and opened the door as I button my coat. I stepped out of the car, stood up, and ran to the middle of the parking lot. Moving too quickly, I tried to stop myself from slipping on the ice as we walked up the wooden stairs. Good thing I had him to hold onto, if I’m going to fall, he is going to fall with me.

Behind us was the mountain. Spring… a cold spring. Grey and white filled my eyes along with the slight sign of life. The dark greens and browns trying to peek out of the snow, begging for warmth. The sky, oh the sky. The vibrant blue against the contrast of Flattop Mountain made it picture perfect. It popped out right at you. The sun made everything glow. The ice, the snow, it all shimmered in a sun that will soon never go down during summer. You can tell it was ready to stay out and play.

Snow flakes lightly falling from the sky and gently landing on the first thing it touched. I stretched my arms out and spun around in a continuous circle, hello mountain, hello trees, hello Anchorage. I spun and spun, my hair catching the snow flakes. Then I stopped. The image in front of me blurred from my childish frenzy. My eyes adjusting to what would freeze that moment in time. It was the city below me. It was Anchorage.

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