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To the Mountain

by | Jul 29, 2015 | Adventure | 1 comment

It has become an annual ritual to drive out to the high point on the tundra, a surprisingly tall and steep hill on the bluff a few miles from our compound.

We found a nice day with no fishing and gassed up the four wheelers for the trek.

If you are not in the know, this is what a tundra gas station looks like.

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It is an exclusively self-serve operation.

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And free carwashes are not an option.

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With full tanks, we headed out.

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Robbi, Alden, and Augie on one quad.

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Kato and I on another.

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We drove until we found the hill.

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The path up is very steep. Not sure of the grade, but in the course of ascent, there is a heart-stopping moment or where one wonders if the quad might not flip backwards.

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Fortunately, it did not and never has. Fortunately, we all reached the top intact and inspired.

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The top of this hill is the best place to observe the tundra in its majesty.

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The best vantage for getting a glimpse of the river, and the town of Egegik on the other side.

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The best place for a picnic.

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In the course of adjusting her hat in the course of said picnic, Robbi discovered a shell she had not placed where it was found, a stowaway, it seems, a casualty of rigorous fishing and insufficient opportunities for exploratory hygiene.

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We were were joined in the picnic by small plastic friends, one of which is named Ice Cream Baby and the others of which are green.

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There is no better place to pretend that one is grumpy than atop this particular hill.

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And there is no greater thrill than riding back down that treacherous path when one’s time on the hilltop is done.

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You will be relieved to learn we all made it down safely.

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On our way back through the tundra, we stopped to smell the flowers. Literally. Tiny irises were blooming near the winter road.

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But we didn’t stop for long. More adventure loomed.

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We pulled off the road, and drove across the tundra.

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Eventually, we parked and had ourselves a hike.

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Explored on foot, the tundra comes alive.

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There is so much to explore, including tiny venus flytraps you’d miss from the back of a four-wheeler.

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We found a lake, no more than a wide, shallow dip on the tundra floor, no more than a few feet deep at the center. We prowled the shoreline in search of little fish and wildflowers.

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All adventures must end, eventually, but not without a final ride back home again.

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This place was part of Robbi’s childhood, and so it is a part of who she is today. I’m glad my kids are getting this experience. She is only 7, but Alden has made eight trips to the tundra.

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Next summer she might start to fish. We’ll see. She’s already her mamma’s daughter: fierce, strong, patient, tough, adventurous, impervious to grime and windswept hair.

We should all be so lucky.

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1 Comment

  1. Adrian K.

    …you forgot artistic and kind. What fun for all 5 of you! I’m envious, as I sit here in my cubicle. Thanks for “taking” me there!

    Reply

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