We do not normally take a busy, pre-holiday weekend as the best time to up and leave town, but that is exactly what we did.
Anchorage has been under a gray cloud of perpetual fog for the last seven or eight days, and this was reason enough for us to try and escape the color of nothingness for some sunshine up North. Yes, up North.
Even a headcold could not keep me from wanting to get out of here, so early Saturday morning we threw the skis, dog, and some miscellaneous food and drink in the truck and drove a few hours up the Glen Highway to the magnificant Matanuska Glacier, where a co-worker of Yukon has a little log cabin.
No fog, no people, no worries; just craggy mountains, red wine, and sunshine. We skied on the frozen 100 Mile Lake, we ate Chex Mix and cookie dough, we watched White Christmas and Miracle on 34th Street. We turned off the cell phones. We didn't want to come home.
The fog was still hovering around the Anchorage Bowl when we arrived home, but this morning it finally lifted and in its place is a fluffy snowstorm, bringing much more interesting window-viewing opportunities and a true Christmas-y feeling. Bear and I are finishing our wrapping and sending, baking and melting, and are relaxing while snowflakes lazily fall outside. I'm refusing to worry that boxes of gifts will make it to their intended destinations; hope New Year's presents aren't a bother, folks.
Maybe a pre-holiday-holiday wasn't such a bad idea.
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