Reaching New Heights: Flattop Mountain

In keeping this summer's theme of independent travel, I made the last minute decision to hop a flight to Anchorage and spend my final SOB taper week there.

Potter Marsh

Goat overlooking the Seward Hwy.

Running blogger buddy, Cinthia, let me crash at her place and took me on a few of her favorite chill hikes. When she was busy, she gave me full use of her badass mountain-mobile and told me to go play.

Don't worry, C, your car loved all the trips to DQ.

So play I did. Not the best thing to do while on a taper, but if there's any time to bend the rules, it's when you're hanging out at the base of the Chugach.

When we lived in Fairbanks, Anchorage wasn't a place to come for hiking. We had gorgeous trails right in our backyard. We visited for the big city amenities: REI, Target, Kohls, and Dairy Queen. I still indulged in Dairy Queen, but finally got to explore some more of the urban trail systems.

My first solo adventure was Flattop Mountain.

Situated on the edge of town, its accessibility and short trail make Flattop the most climbed mountain in Alaska. For this reason, I headed up early, got the trail to myself and basically passed the conga line of climbers on my way down.

The first few miles were through trampled, yet still gorgeous, alpine country. I climbed up, photographing all the flowers and the jagged peaks surrounding me.

Monkshood, yellow paintbrush, and arnica.

Fireweed is still my favorite.

Beads of sweat rolled off my nose and then I stared up, a salty burning in my eyes. The last few hundred feet to the summit of this mountain was just beyond my comfort zone and super sketchy.

Of course the photo doesn't do it justice, but it's crumbling rock on the right.

I almost didn't make it. I’m afraid of heights. It can range from mild to debilitating, depending on what I’ve got to hold onto. Returning to the place where I first discovered this rich, insatiable yearning for mountains and wide open spaces seemed the perfect place to begin conquering that fear. Even though I'm no longer local, Alaska continues to push my limits and expand my heart in ways I least expect.

I considered turning around several times (going solo magnifies just about every fear, too) but I took a lot of deep breaths and made it. I reached the summit of this aptly named flat-topped mountain with a rush of relief and pride. I still can’t believe I made it. 

On my way down the mountain, I must have been beaming and looking pretty legit because an older couple asked me if the mountain off to the south was Mt. McKinley. I explained that even though that mountain across the inlet looks huge and is beautiful, “Denali, and most of Alaska for that matter, is behind you. That way.”

Anchorage from Flattop summit.

Obviously I had to reward myself with a blizzard AND cheese curds.