A warm walk and a chilling tale...

A view from the trail.

Sunday afternoon, Aunt Lyn took Katherine, Ben and I out for our first of many hikes this summer. We went almost 2.5 miles from Mchugh Creek along the Turnagain Arm Trail before time, Cosco, and the threat of rain, drove us 2.5 miles back to the car. The path was spongy and warm and I could smell the leaves unfurling. Only Ben carried a water bottle and the rest of us happily drank from the streams trickling from glaciers melting on the backside of the mountains. The tasteless, numbing liquid gave me energy, reviving my mind even more than my body. I hope Katherine and I will be able to walk among the mountains this weekend when we are in Denali National Park.

Yesterday, Lyn returned from her bike ride with a whale of a tale. I was first warned of moose agression six to seven years ago on a family vacation to Yellowstone but until last night, I had heard nothing more than vague, removed stories. My grandmother called me just before my plane left for Anchorage, not to warn me about moose attacks, but to ask that I stay mindful of bears. Yet, Lyn was attacked by a moose, not a grizzly. As she and two girlfriends rode along the path, she suddenly heard something crashing through the trees. Lyn glanced back just in time to see her friend fling herself from her bike to avoid the charging, bristling moose. The moose leaped over the falling bike, changing its course to attack Lyn. Fortunately, she and her other friend were able to jump off their bikes and hide behind trees before it reached them. After unsuccessfully searching and listening for the concealed women, the moose left them alone and shaken. Lyn and her friends continued their ride, only to turn around a short while later when they stumbled upon a monster: at the top of a hill stood a moose whose head towered about 7 feet in the air. My apologies, Mr and Mrs Moose, for the misunderstanding...

(but I still want see one up close in all its chilling glory)