I lived up in Alaska for three years and one of my favorite things to do was drive up to Talkeetna to try to get a glimpse of the mountain. Y'know, that big one. Something about it being the tallest mountain in North America. Sound familiar? We could see it on a (really) clear day (or night, come summertime - nothing better than seeing Denali silhouetted against the sky during a sunset that's taking place at midnight) in Anchorage, but come on, that's far away. Talkeetna is so much closer.
Well apparently, Denali liked to thumb its nose at me, because no matter what, even if I could see the mountain from Anchorage, by the time I would get to Denali it was shrouded in the clouds it made itself. I moved away from Alaska never having achieved this dream - no matter how many times I stopped at the overlook just outside of town or went to the Susitna River beach, plaintively raking my eyes across the horizon, the mountain wasn't there.
That is, until Cory and I visited this summer. We had been mostly foiled the day we went into the park itself, but the next day, on the way home, the MOUNTAIN WAS OUT! We stopped off at a handful of viewpoints, finally getting the pictures I had waited so long for, and by the time we pulled into Talkeetna Cory was famished. I, of course, still wanted my beach shot of the mountain and Cory tried to tell me that we would go down there after lunch, but oh no, I had learned my lesson during my time living in Alaska: if you have an opportunity to see or do something, you had better do it right then, because the opportunity can vanish very, very quickly and you never know when you'll get it again. So I dragged him to the river's beach, got my photo, and then we went to lunch at Cafe Michele (holy crap, who knew there was fine dining in Talkeetna??? This place was awesome: fantastic quality food with the laid-back Talkeetna attitude) and by the time we had finished our excellent meal, the mountain was completely shrouded again.
In Alaska, you take what you can get when the gettin's good.
