The first time that I visited Anchorage, I remember the plane coming down out of the clouds and skimming over the mountain tops. It was slightly scary (thoughts of Alive filled my head) but incredibly gorgeous and awe-inspiring. The sense of wonder they filled me with only increased after Marc explained just how far the mountains were in the distance and how big they had to be to be seen at that size from the city. I miss looking out into the horizon and seeing the mountains in the distance.
One night we visited the Village Inn on a mission to secure a White Chocolate Cherry Dream Pie. After parking, I noticed that many of the people in the lot weren't making their way inside but were instead gazing into the sky. Upon looking up, I was treated to my first viewing of the Northern Lights. I don't think there's anything in the world that can quite prepare you for the spectacle of the bands of colour weaving and pulsing through the night sky.
Growing up, I had never lived in a place that it really snowed. It wasn't until I was in my late teens, in Ohio, that I really experienced it. And it was in Ohio that I also learned to hate it. Alaska, however, gave me back my love of the frozen white stuff. Maybe it was the scenery that made it seem more magical, or maybe it was the sheer amount of it. Whatever it was, my love for it has stayed with me.
Marc loved to drive. One of the places he showed me, and I ended up falling in love with, was the Seward Highway. It stretches up from Anchorage, through Girdwood, alongside the Portage Glacier and into Seward. Some of my favourite times were when we'd drive along the Turnagain Arm and visits to Girdwood (and the Double Musky Inn).
There are downsides to it being light almost all day, but there's nothing like not needing your headlights at 10pm. The trade off of having so much darkness in the winter wasn't so bad either, although that is when I became a big fan of SAD lights!
