Still snowing dear. Big, Narnia flakes that show no sign of stopping. With much coaxing, I convinced Max to leave canasta and bed behind to use our snow gear. I felt still, and didn’t want to be still in Alaska, so we snow pantsed up and ventured…out to our host’s main house. She sort of scrunched her nose and said “Well you won’t see anything here,” of course not, “you’ll have to go up to Hatcher Pass,” where I thought I was. She was a sweetheart and mapped out some trails nearby that we could trek, mountains or not, and I was happy just to go play in the snow. Moose Trails they were called. Just a bunch of swirling trails that weave in and out of this small park. It was already passed my knee, and any stomping around would get the lazy heart rate up.
We walked up and down a few streets, passing a school bus and (prompting a whole conversation on what it takes to get a snow day for kids in Alaska) toward the trail head. This was simply flat walking in unrelenting snow smacking, and once we got to the trail, we just sort of plopped in the white. We’d made it to the swamp and there really was no where else to go, so we laid down. Perfect snowball snow. Calvin and Hobbes snowball snow. Unable to stay grumpy and tense while being hit with snowballs, snowball snow. We drank up the snow, and laughed at the disgusting poop mud that lurked 14” below the snow, catching both of us at times. Suction mud. Ew. We walked home, soaked and feeling like we’d done something, and played some cards. Ramen? Yes please. Would you like some broth to drink? Oh yes. Almonds? No thanks, I’m nearly full.
