Right Mountain reflects off of Kenai Lake on June 6, 2018. (Photo by Jeff Helminiak/Peninsula Clarion)

Right Mountain reflects off of Kenai Lake on June 6, 2018. (Photo by Jeff Helminiak/Peninsula Clarion)

Out of the Office: That was summer

In Alaska, seasons seem to be things that are not so much enjoyed, but gotten through.

As I say this, I hear the chorus of Alaska’s hardy folk in my ear, telling me that, no, in fact, the harsh, near-perpetual dark of wintertime is thrilling, and that the slightly lighter, still harsh thaw of spring is its own kind of revelation.

Neither of these things is true.

Alaska’s winter — dramatic and bracing though it might be — is a literal trudge.

ADVERTISEMENT
0 seconds of 0 secondsVolume 0%
Press shift question mark to access a list of keyboard shortcuts
00:00
00:00
00:00
 

For me, winter was waiting for a time that snow boots weren’t required to take out the trash. It was squinting behind the wheel of my car on icy roads, trying to figure out where lanes began and ended because there were no visible lines, everything was covered in snow, and it was dark.

It was staying inside most of the day, every day, because hibernation is way easier than interaction during a four-hour day. Spring was a similar slog.

Spring, as I have always understood it, is a time when things come back to life, birds return, trees turn green and flowers bloom.

Spring is revelatory because it reveals.

In Alaska, spring isn’t so much a season, but a promise of a season.

Yes, things melted. Yes, birds came back. And yes, eventually, trees turned green and wildflowers bloomed along hillsides and in ditches.

By the time this happened, however, it was well into what should have been summer.

And summer, I found out, is not so much a season, but a moment.

My summer was exactly one day in July, when I drove into the mountains determined to find a body of water that would take me.

Earlier that week the water had stopped in my house. Having lived without plumbing for stretches of my life, I thought I would be able to handle a few days without a bath.

But, while I coped with the lack of water in the tropics — where I could walk to a beach and float in warm ocean waves — lacking access to a shower was getting to me. My body itched with phantom grime. I was dreaming about water — and would wake with vivid memories of immersing myself in a bath.

So, on a Saturday afternoon, just as temperatures hit an unbelievable 82 degrees, I headed to the hills with a hiking book, looking for a lake.

I didn’t have any swimming wear (who brings a swimsuit to Alaska?) and my clothes were stuffed in a laundry bag in the back of my car, so I decided to make cutoffs out of a pair of donated pants I would likely never wear to work.

I threw the only clean skirt I had, a peasant skirt with a wide circumference, over the top of my shorts and set off into the woods. I followed a trail past Kelly Lake, through tall reeds and up and down hills for several miles.

A bee followed me the whole trail. I don’t know if he was attracted to the colors of my skirt, or the coconut smell of my hair, but he seemed determined to go with me. Along the way, I encountered a solitary hiker heading the opposite direction. We sized each other up, and then did that little nod that one does when you don’t really want to interact, and hope subtle pleasantries are enough.

The trail was supposed to take me to, or at least toward, a series of lakes. I had hoped to find one that was empty of swimmers, where I could float alone in sunshine. The lakes I first passed were dim or muddy or full of people. Eventually, I made my way down a path to the edge of an immense, shimmering lake. The shore was shrouded, however, and the water had been sprinkled with fallen blooms.

The water was colder than I expected — colder than any I have maybe ever been in. I couldn’t go very far because the mud between my toes became ever deeper and threatened to suck me in. But I floated until my legs and arms were numb.

And then I got out, used my skirt as a towel, and headed back through muddy trails with a bee by my side.

I did other things this summer.

I walked to a glacier in Seward near midnight just before solstice, because I could. I took a highway north through green tundra and cascading mountains. I squinted into brilliant sunshine to get a look at the far away peaks of Denali, with parents and siblings taking selfies behind me. I sat on the Spit in Homer on a gray day — watching a territorial gull peck at a strip of salmon flesh while squawking at anyone who came near. I hiked a few more trails, saw waterfalls, and shuttled friends and families up and down the peninsula.

But wandering into the woods alone and dipping myself in frigid lake on a hot day in July — that was summer.

And now it’s definitively fall, and I have another year before I find that moment again.

More in Sports

Runners line up at the start for the Seldovia Salmon Shuffle 5K race on Friday, July 4, 2025, in Seldovia, Alaska. Photo courtesy Ecola Collier
255 do the Salmon Shuffle

The 5K race is held annually as part of Seldovia’s 4th of July celebrations.

Nick Varney
Reeling ‘Em In: Hard luck at the fishing hole

The action wasn’t as hot as in the past, but neither was the run.

Seward's Fred Moore stands at the base of Mount Marathon in Seward, Alaska, on Monday, June 24, 2019. Moore will run in his 50th consecutive Mount Marathon race on July 4. (Photo by Joey Klecka/Peninsula Clarion)
‘It’s been a good run’

Seward’s Moore explains his decision to end his Mount Marathon streak at 54

Matthew Schilling of the American Legion Post 20 Twins slides safely past Eagle River catcher Jack Mullen on Monday, July 7, 2025, at Coral Seymour Memorial Park in Kenai, Alaska. (Photo by Jeff Helminiak/Peninsula Clarion)
Monday: Twins keep rolling with sweep of Eagle River

The American Legion Post 20 Twins swept Eagle River on Monday at… Continue reading

Sharon Tyone, Dan Aaronson and Jessica Small make the "real life slot machine" work at the Oilers All-Star Family Field Day on Saturday, July 5, 2025, at Coral Seymour Memorial Park in Kenai, Alaska. (Photo by Jeff Helminiak/Peninsula Clarion)
Oilers return to field for All-Star Family Field Day

It was only for a day, but the Peninsula Oilers were able… Continue reading

David Norris, 34, of Steamboat Springs, Colorado, wins the men's race at the Mount Marathon Race on July 4, 2025, in Seward, Alaska. (Photo by Jeff Helminiak/Peninsula Clarion)
Norris goes 6 for 6 in Mount Marathon men’s race; Moore’s streak ends at 54 races

One streak lived while another streak ended during a brilliantly sunny men’s… Continue reading

Anchorage's Klaire Rhodes, 27, wins the women's race at the Mount Marathon Race on July 4, 2025, in Seward, Alaska. (Photo by Jeff Helminiak/Peninsula Clarion)
Anchorage’s Rhodes defends women’s Mount Marathon crown

With Seward stuffed with people for 97th running of the Mount Marathon… Continue reading

The juniors start at the Mount Marathon Race on July 4, 2025, in Seward, Alaska. (Photo by Jeff Helminiak/Peninsula Clarion)
Anchorage’s Zuber, Flagstad capture junior Mount Marathon races

Kenai’s Boonstra takes 2nd in junior girls race

tease
Thursday: Twins finish strong road trip by sweeping South

The visiting American Legion Post 20 Twins picked up 10-0 and 18-5… Continue reading

tease
Post 20 Twins enact mercy rule on Eagle River

The visiting American Legion Post 20 Twins defeated Eagle River 11-0 in… Continue reading

tease
Tri Nikiski draws 79 participants

The ninth annual Tri Nikiski was held Saturday starting from the Nikiski… Continue reading

You're browsing in private mode.
Please sign in or subscribe to continue reading articles in this mode.

Peninsula Clarion relies on subscription revenue to provide local content for our readers.

Subscribe

Already a subscriber? Please sign in