Growing up in Alaska I was privy to a world of breathe taking views, once in a lifetime experiences and unique survival/backwoods lifestyles.
Driving down the Parks Highway, for the thousandth plus time, I realized that this place never gets old. If you ever hear an Alaskan tell you that they don’t miss the views…they either aren’t a real Alaskan, they are blind or just plain crazy. I’ve lived away from this state for a few years now and it’s been a year since I’ve been home and as soon as we left the outskirts of the city of Wasilla and the mountains of the Alaska Range rose up in front of us, I knew I was home.
I have been around the world a time or two and there still is no comparison to looking out over a lake and seeing the mountains so close you could touch them, listening to the eerie silence as you can hear the water trickling under the ice and as the breakup sun is beating down on the snow slowly melting the cold away.
And then you have the mountains. One of my favorite things about growing up in Fairbanks was that I was surrounded on three sides by mountains and one road that lead to the sea. Driving from Anchorage it is following the road mountain deeper into the mountains.
Driving into the shadow of Denali is one of the greatest treats a person can experience. Alaskans take it for granted but as a returning Alaskan I have a newfound appreciation for the sights.
More to come on my travels to the Great White North.
Traveling Photographer Out!
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