In all it was a good time; but, Marika insisted that the trail was a blast in the summer. For matters of edification: Memorial Day in Alaska is not summer. Fast forward three weeks, and the constant rain followed by increasingly longer days bring us to solstice. After surviving five days of rain and overcast, I woke up to bluebird sky on Sunday morning. I readied Tok, brewed coffee and made oatmeal with packing my camelback. I was one of the first cars in the parking lot at the trailhead for Lost Lake and was delighted to have the trail to myself for the majority of the hike.
I entered a different world once I started climbing. The trail narrowed thanks to overgrown ferns and blooming salmonberry bushes. Flowers lined the intermittent mud puddles and the waterfalls were picturesque. As we departed the tree line, the mayflies clustered in large groups, making Tok sneeze as he rushed through them with my impersonation of the “Alaskan wave” as I did the same. For about a quarter mile any voyeur could see my arms flailing in a mock wave to brush those pesky flies away from me.
Being atop the tree line doused me in sunshine, breeze, and views of the Bay with eagles soaring overhead. That sheer delight, that euphoric state of breathing in fresh air is not only better than any drug out there but worth suffering through days of rain. I came off that trail happier than I had felt in days. And now a plethora of pictures: