Powerline Pass Ride

The once-glaciated valley floor

My new office sits on the fourth floor of the Diplomacy Building at the southeast corner of town - in the morning shadow of the Chugach. Each day on my way to the copier I gaze, perhaps too long at times, toward the toothy peaks of North America' snowiest range. Today I finally got the chance to explore the expansive wilderness. I strapped the bike to the rack and drove toward the Glen Alps trailhead. When I arrived at the trailhead twosomes and threesomes in raingear headed off to the bushes hoping to fill their berry buckets. A light rain coated most everything in moisture. Donning a raincoat I pedaled onto the Powerline Pass Trail.

Atop Powerline Pass

Before leaving the range of the berry-pickers I spied three bull moose cavorting across the valley - their friendliness sure to vanish during fall rut. The valley soon turned to a bowl and I climbed to the top of the pass. A lone white dall sheep grazed on a nearby ridge. Kittiwakes swam in a blugreen tarn and seemed out of place. I reached the summit of the pass and paused, watching white clouds open and close like a ghostly curtain revealing treeless subalpine slopes. On the descent a rough-legged hawk kited just below the trail, circling then vanishing into the low white clouds. Farther, a large flock of ptarmigan sporting summer plumage crossed the trail clucking and cooing. Before long I was back to the trailhead where the numbers of berry-pickers had increased, swarming the valley slopes.