Freedom in Port Alsworth is being able to launch an adventure on my own. To get out-of-town, away from the summer hustle and bustle without relying on another person to transport me places via airplane or boat. Freedom for me comes in the form of the kayak I bought last summer and named La Independencia.
While paddling and skiing on Lake Clark over the past year, I’ve studied the mountains surrounding Port Alsworth that I need to climb. All of them really… but more specifically, the third one down on the right. Port Alsworth is just at the left edge this picture below, making this mountain about 5 miles from our village. After dreaming and scheming, it became a reality this past weekend.
Sherry, Amber and I packed our kayaks and headed down the lake Friday after work. I estimated a good spot for the campsite, hoping it was close to a direct line to the mountain’s ridge line. There are no trails up these mountains in Lake Clark National Park…but nothing that some good bushwhacking and bonding time with the mosquitos can’t conquer!
The next morning, we headed out to summit the peak. I felt so blessed with a sun and high clouds. All week we have had low clouds, covering half the mountains with rain off and on. Not ideal for a mountain assent. Thank you Lord for parting the clouds!
We bushwhacked for an hour through the woods and across springy tundra fields.
Then all of a sudden, up bolted the 3,905 ft mountain. And let me tell you…when you start at 200 ft, it’s quite the incline. The ten steps, catch your breath, ten steps, suck in a bug while inhaling kind of steep climbing. But after the first hour, we saw the summit, got a tall double white chocolate mocha and pranced our way to the top.
The view is stunning. We could see more than half of the 45-mile long Lake Clark, draped in its turquoise blue watery splendor.
Seeing the variety of vibrant wildflowers on the way up reminds me that God cares to give joy among difficult times. There were a few mental battles to fight on the way up, but one step at a time is the only way to climb a mountain. Epiphany. Kind of like throwing a snowball at the camera lady.
Summit! Boo-ya! Spike the foot-ball dance.
We hiked right into the mist… The wispy clouds had begun to surround the summit giving the pictures a smokey appearance and almost instantly the rain drops began to dampen our heads.
We knew airplanes had landed on this mountain top, dropping a man to go hand gliding. And the top is impressively large! Like two acres impressive. Enough to hold a wedding, a town picnic, raise emus, hold a football tournament, have a break-dance battle, park like 46 18-Wheelers… you get my point. Huge and flat. We tried and tried to come up with another name for the mountain, but I think the unofficial town name is Flat Top. Boring. It could at least be an onomonopia like Zap! Sizzle. Whap. Pow!
On our way down, the rain began to drizzle then pour. We were soaked by the time we got home, but out hiked the rain cloud so had a chance to dry out on the beach before it caught us again.
Another Mountain Mama’s mini adventure success! I’m so glad the trip happened, and on the one nice day we’ve had in the last ten days. I had some rad ladies for company too!
Now on to making my other summer adventures a reality…