Hatcher Pass, part 2

February 20, 2012:

Matt ventured downstairs for water just as the lodge was setting up for breakfast.  They apologized for the noise and offered us free breakfast.  HECK YES, I can be bought!  It sounded better than the day-long PB&J feast we had planned on having.

Looking through the picture windows, it was hard to tell we were in the mountains at all.  In the low morning light, it was all white.  No contours or varying hues.  All white.  It was like looking at a blank sheet of paper.  The clouds raised and lowered throughout the morning.

  

 

 

People, bushes, and trail markers contrasted with the landscape as we moved along on our morning snowshoe trip.  We never knew for sure whether our climbing effort would yield great views or not.  From the top, one can see all the way to the Cook Inlet on a clear day.  “I’ll believe it when I see it,” I remarked.

 

My illness seemed to be the worst this day.  The dry, cool air helped a bit.  I also saved about 30,000 trees by using snot rockets instead of tissue.  I’m sure you really needed to know that too, right?  My mom always gags when she hears me blow out a snot rocket.  She’s secretly jealous of how good I am at it.  Matt is the master blower.  He shot out green ones.  They splattered into the white snow like a piece of abstract art.

Atop Hatcher Pass, the wind blew swiftly.  I opened the chemical warmers and stuffed them inside my outer mittens to revive my frozen fingers.  Permanently sensitive from bouts of mild frostbite, I always struggle with cold fingers.  

No Cook Inlet today, but daylight soon brought depth to the mountains, snowmobile tracks and Summit Lake.

Turning around to return the way we came, grand views appeared.  Mountains, crystal clear and bathed in a sunshine spotlight stared back at us.  “It looks like a mountain you’d find on a beer bottle,” Matt said.

That night, Matt and I moved to a more spacious cabin.  The view from the window was so spectacular that it appeared fake, perhaps a painting rather than a window.  After a Monopoly rematch game, we went to bed exhausted and happy.