Bearin' It

I said it was bear scat. Light piles of wrinkled and slightly processed berries don't appear on the path at regular intervals par hazard. Someone else likes to walk this path and has business here.
The mountains actually flatten out completely by the time you reach Kenai and Soldotna so we stopped just outside of them for our hike before setting up camp closer to the towns. The modest incline became a bit of a thriller when Ruth found the first bear print in the soft trail, proving my bear scat theory. Then there were more. Then the massive print, with claws. My excitement at the discovery began to grow—I didn't believe that we would actually see one so fear wasn't an issue. When we summited at the lake, the tracks led away so all the hopefully anxiety from the bear hunting party wandered off with the fresh prints further into the trees. A bit of anxiety returned when we reached our campsite later that afternoon.
Centennial Park near Soldotna offered 176 campsites, 175 after we showed up. We had our pick of the river front but settled for our 3rd favorite selection when we discovered a bag of raw meat slopped and intentionally forsaken in a fire pit. A bit of bear anxiety returned. I believed I would at least hear one move around in the night...but I fell asleep in 10 minutes and for the next 10hrs, I heard nothing.

bringing the fall

a walk

the hike

Even though we'd already seen a little snow, the four of us left a still green Anchorage last weekend on a dash south to Kenai for a final camping trip. The weather was warmer than expected, no rain, and only the white fluffy clouds competing with the sun. The splendor of the empty world around us that both flew by while seeming to stand motionless through the car windows was unfathomable.
There was the drive, the hike, a fire, a walk, smoky food, sleep, a book, coffee (black) glowing embers, another drive. Another shock of wonder at the vast beauty.

the drive

When we returned to Anchorage, fall had reached the city's trees and it fell, the dry leaves, around our ears and gathered on our things, vying for attention as we unloaded the car. Nevertheless, the trees in this city, dimmed by clouds, cannot compare to the way the sunlight struck the crowns and dripped thickly through the pride and the gold of the arms of the wild Aspen, the Poplar, and the Birch of wild.