Guess what time it is?
10:15.
10:30!
The sun still blazons across the mountain behind us. Soft pink clouds float around as we just begin to start a fire, s'mores ingredients at the ready. We slowly but surely get shitfaced under the midnight sun, still joking around that neither one of us were prepared for the sun to be out all day, but we should continue making the most of it (mostly by drinking). We recount our day as the daylight slowly fades as the fire grows brighter. Joe anxiously checks his phone. Every few minutes he pulls out his little Blackberry, until finally we reach midnight; "HAPPY BIRTHDAY HANNAH."
We spent the my last day as 28 atop of snowy mountains. We ventured to Kenai Fjords National Park and tried to find the path less traveled by the troves of tourists and their young children. I wasn't anticipating to getting to (and pardon my technical lingo) "the snowy parts", but it took us less than two hours to get there, and my chubby ass can take pride in saying that. We kept going; we passed several other climbers, clad in pyjama pants and Chicago Bears caps, telling us we'll have to turn back if we are not prepared for the snow (we weren't). I was only wearing tennis shoes, capri leggings, and a t-shirt, and somehow I had found myself trekking through mud, waterfalls, and snow, still clinging to life.
There was some force that made us keep going; we followed the orange flags peaking from underneath the snow until they abruptly ended at the foot of a steep hill. Thinking that was all we could do for the day, we hear a faint "Hi friends." We look up to see an Indian couple sitting at the top of the hill on a rock. "Come up, friends! Just climb like a bear" while we see their blackened silhouettes making the roaring motion of a climbing bear. About half way up I realize my mistake: bears have claws and lots and lots of fur. I have skin that's prone to coldness and I bite my nails. By some miracle of God, I made it to the rock.
I can't remember how long we sat there. As the cliche says, 'Time stood still' although it definitely did. The brightness certainly was a factor, but it was so quiet; there were no birds chirping, and the couple had vacated their rock for us, so there was no one else around. There we were, on top of the world and we sat there giving each other fun facts about state trivia (What are the 4 states in which their capitals share the same first letter?). I presume this is normal mountain talk; it's certainly normal for Joe and me, and I'm thankful that I have a nerdy, kindred spirit to talk about the US, especially on top of a mountain. We call it and try and make our way back down. It was much harder than I anticipated, and the short version is, I had to succumb to the slippery snow, sliding down on my butt trying to catch myself with my hands, a foot deep in snow. "Your face says, this is happening and there's nothing I can do about it", Joe quips. I laugh along, but it would be a couple hours until I could feel my hands again.
Millers Landing. I can only assume that at one point this was some sort of compound for a cult (I joke with an employee about this fact. He kind of gave me one of those weird smiles that says, "Yes, you're right, but I don't want my boss seeing me tell you this". Thanks anyway, Cal), but now it's one big camping site. For as big as Alaska is, I feel like we were all jammed together: tent campers, RVers, cabin goers all snug on a little piece of land by the bay. Thankfully we were the latter of those three, but it was wild to walk around, being so involved with other people's lives.
The evening was still bright so we could easily see sea lions frolicking in the ocean while bald eagles flew overhead (this flowy nature-y scene did in fact happen, and it was enough to put a lump in my throat). We drank our beers and skipped stones while the sun still bounced off the mountaintops.
Back at the fire, I'm spending the first few minutes of my birthday dumping out my emotional purse. Poor Joe; he has to sit here and listen and he's too nice to stop me. I ask if my crazy emotions in relation to a boy can translate into being in love, but Joe doesn't have an answer either. I think my teenage self would be disappointed in current me- not having any part of her life together, stumbling over words when talking about a dude, sloppy drunk while cramming my face full of s'mores. That being said, I think she would be impressed that I am in Alaska.