I fell in love with Girdwood the first time I saw it years ago and each time I revisited. The drive up the Turn-again Arm is a sight to behold. With one more day of hiking in the offing, I requested a trip to Girdwood.
When I saw the terrain, I suggested that I take the tram to the top and meet Lisa up there. She assured me that we were off on the most level trail in Girdwood. The ski trail. Think blue run.
The woods were really dense.
The 'butt" tree. As we passed, a young boy was quizzing his dad about poop. We chuckled and hiked on.
Blueberries! This time we came prepared with ziplock bags.
Our trail followed part of the Iditarod National Historic Trail.
Devils Club. So beautiful in it's berry state and so brutal with it's surface of thorns guaranteed to rip through any layer of clothing. I still have a painful reminder of berry picking in this very spot. The thorn tip is deep in my calf; is swollen and; itches like crazy.
Even though I was foot weary, I made Lisa take me to the resort moose for a picture.
Flat Girdwood - an oxymoron.
When we got home it was time to pack up for our next adventure. This pile dumped from my suitcases, needed to fit into my white pack. Usual weather consists of relentless rain and wind. We would be camping at the base of a glacier. Ski gear were the togs of the trip.
Lisa's pile.
Packed for another adventure.