Alaska

One of the best ventures in Seward is Kenai Fjords National Park, and my travelling partner Joe and I tried to find the path less traveled by the troves of tourists and their young children.

We hike along the massive force that is Exit Glacier, a most beautiful sight. We follow 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 a 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, I made it to the rock.

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?). 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.

After a long hike, we needed a drink. And luckily, Alaska isn't without its charming and notorious dive bars. We end up at Yukon. After we went to the Pit. And after Tony's. "What's your favorite thing in this bar?" Joe asks. A gnarly looking dude with wild curly hair flashes his smile (with missing teeth) and grabs a flashlight. "Well, we have a human skull", as he walked over to the corner and shines upon a little human skull tacked up to the wall. "I'm not sure if we're supposed to have it, but here it is." It's amazing in this tiny town is full of such history and characters.

We camp by the side of the ocean. The midnight sun is 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.

Highway 1 (also known as the Seward Highway) is notoriously one of the most beautiful drive in America. And for good reason. Full of twists and turns, there's never a moment that a scenic mountain range is ever out of sight.

There are some nice detours between Seward and Anchorage, but one of the best is the little town of Hope. We stop here for a taste of history of the Gold Rush, visiting the Hope and Sunrise Museum. We enter tiny houses and explore the adventurous life of a gold miner.

Hope is small. Like, two roads kind of small. There's a nice open field by the water where you can just pitch and camp. There's a beautiful silence. And during the day, you can always drop by the Seaview Cafe and Bar (remember what I said about Alaska and bars? Never a dull moment, er, bar). We take a walk down green paths, canopied by birch trees, the mountains in the distance. Such a pleasant little town full of fantastic people.

Anchorage, on first appearance, seems to be very "Americanized". I'm not sure why I'm slightly disappointed, seeing as we're all Americans here, but I envisioned ANC to have a lot less fast food.

That being said, there are a treasure trove of great restaurants and bars (I promise I'm not an alcoholic, but the Alaskans like to party). There's plenty to do outside: weekly yoga nights on the green, set to the backdrop of mountains, bike rides along the Tony Knowles Coastal trail, and hiking on the outskirts of the city. In the summer, under the midnight sun, you'll find all the residents of ANC out and about, making the city stay alive and active throughout the entire day.

ANC is also full of green spaces and amazing parks. We drop by Kincaid, and just outside the entrance is a Mama moose with two calves. And since seeing a moose on my trip was on the bucket list, it got checked off quickly.

As an unabashed self-proclaimed lover of cemeteries, there's a small one placed off of Highway 1 that was unlike anything I have seen before.

Russian missionaries came to the village of Eklunta in the 1830s. The Dena'ina tribe began converting into the Orthodox church. Before, the tribe had cremated their dead, but the church forbade them from creating human remains. As a result, they constructed spirit houses, so the spirits had some place to go.

About 100 brightly colored little homes, each adorned with the Orthodox cross, are clustered by the edge of the trees. They have windows and balconies, but many are left in disrepair. Interestingly, they are left to rot and decay, so the spirit can come and go to the earth as they please, slipping through the cracks for the rest of enternity.

We drive to the town of Palmer for a nice hiking adventure, but we overshoot the trailhead parking. We decided to turn around but the next place that's available is a reindeer farm, and who wouldn't want to stop at a reindeer farm? I'm sure there are reindeer farms in the lower 48, probably scattered across Santa's Villages across the nation, but this one is seemingly dropped into our laps (and not one Santa reference in sight).

After a brief introduction from charmingly overzealous employee, we pay our $9 fee and wait to start our tour. We meet a pig named Donna and we are more than welcome to go inside the chicken coop and look for eggs. The size of the chickens have me scared, so I pass, but a brave three-year-old, covered in mud and hay, crawls out with one shiny, speckled egg.

We are handed a small container of what I assume are called 'reindeer pellets' and are guided into their pin. It started out pretty terrifying, because as dumb as reindeer look, they are smart enough to know this was a tour and it was time to be fed. Four reindeer hurdle straight towards me and I have no option but to cower in fear. I try not to bump their antlers, as underneath the velvet is nothing but nerve ("I don't want to hurt you!") as I hold out my hand and they begin to nom away. I can hear Joe yelling from a distance after three reindeer bombarded him, "This is totally worth $9!"

We were able to continue on to our original plan of hiking the Butte. A quick 30 minute hike and we found ourselves at the top, overlooking a 360 degree mountain view, complete with glaciers and rolling farm land.