Mount Susitna is a wonderful feature of the Anchorage cityscape. Also known as the Sleeping Lady for the way its silhouette, well, resembles a sleeping lady, it's visible from practically anywhere in the city. It's so close that newcomers (myself included) often mistake it for Denali because it looks as big as we seem to think the largest mountain in North America should look.
I'm especially fond of Mt Susitna near the equinoxes because the sun sets behind the mountain, casting gorgeous silhouettes. However, it's hard to get a real appreciation for the mountain unless you get outside of the city a bit. I managed to do just that on my hike to Wolverine Peak. The trail offers spectacular views of the city and the angle is just right to catch the Sleeping Lady watching over Anchorage. I love the view so much that this very nearly became the masthead for this summer over on Life in a Northern Town. Alas, it's a real challenge for something that is allegedly sleeping to portray the same joi de vivre exhibited by Sienna, so Susitna was barely edged out of place. Better luck next time to the Sleeping Lady.
If you want to see a larger version, click on the photo to download it.
It's odd to see anything but frenzied delight on Sienna's face when there's a tennis ball involved. For just this split second though, we see something different. Is she worried? Guilty? Fretting about whether or not my arm will fall off from throwing the ball eighty thousand times in a single session? Either way, it's damned cute.
It may very well be that the crippling soreness that's taken up residence in my calves these days can be attributed to my stubborn determination to drag my camera and all my lenses over 10 miles and up a mountain, but really, would a hike like that be worth it if you didn't bring that particular companion along to share the view?
A few of us - accompanied by two most excellent Alaska Adventure Dogs - conquered Wolverine Peak on Saturday. It's a hike I had been wanting to do for two years but had always been deterred not so much by the steepness or length, but by the supplies required by the length. The rapidly changing weather around the mountains plays a factor too. Let's just say that when I finally dragged my totally glycogen-depleted muscles up to that bit where there's no where else to go, only to be greeted by dense cloud cover completely obscuring any view, I was beyond disappointed, and if I hadn't been so focused on getting some fuel to my body I would have been pretty angry.
I sat down to eat a peanut butter sandwich (the cure for all bonks) and lo, before I had finished the clouds had rolled away to reveal a stunning vista into the Chugach Mountains, cleverly hidden from most hikers (including those who've conquered Flattop) by the front of the range. That view was all I needed - that hike was totally worth it.
