Two Hikes

Bird Creek Trail:

South of Potter's Marsh, off of Turnagain Arm. Myself and one of my housemates, Dan. Loamy soil, salmonberry, spruce, birch. Main trails mostly lead to not much, so we left them and beat paths up smaller, less cleared ones. Log-hopped down to the creek, which flows remarkably clear, avoiding unidentified plants that make you itch. As well as large, broad-leaved shoots covered in white thorns. Attempted to cross the stream and head up the other, steeper side of the ravine, but water was moving too fast. Continued to find small trails that lead up, up, and up to clearings where late sun eased off of large upper-story leaves and covered the cinnamon-colored ground with dapples. One had a large, low tree that I couldn't wrap my arms around and whose above-ground root structure went out a couple yards in wide, muscular sinews. Down into the ravine again, across the creek at a slower, lower spot, and up a touchy rock scramble. More light, always more light. Finally, a spot called "Boy Scout Rocks" and an outcropping overlooking the highway, Cook Inlet, and the towering opposite shore. Short, banzai-style spruce tree bent from years of wind. Tiny purple and white flowers interspersed in the saxifrage. The rock here is never smooth, always cut in places and ripply like a bag of potatoes in others. Moose droppings everywhere.

Flattop Mountain:

Orientation. Large group of kids from the different internship positions. At first, a steep, dusty slope with tiny rocks skittering off in every direction. Mosses and lichens clustered around short mountain grasses, as well as buttercups and hundreds of tiny purple, white, and red flowers. Little groves of midget spruce inclined on the leeward side that shelter patches of snow below the snowline. Eventually reached the rocks and scrambled through black crustose lichens as well as neon green and orange ones. Everyone meeting each other while they try not to fall off the incline that no one realized was that steep until they got to the top of it. At the top, a short snowball fight in June. Head down opposite side, covered in snow, melted streams, and mud. Far, clear views of Cook Inlet and Redoubt Volcano. Fire Island very visible off the coast of Anchorage. Found out that when the tide goes out there is about an hour during which one can run across the inlet to the island if one knows where to avoid mud sinks. We are determined to do this.

Short, declarative sentences make sense when talking about the Alaskan outdoors. It is grand, this is true. But it knows what it's about, it isn't sprawling. The little white flowers with yellow centers aren't birds of paradise - in argument to Annie Dillard's concept of nature's constant, abhorrent fecundity, they are just enough. They are getting by.