Day 13

We meet a gray morning. We decide to head south toward Homer and the day quickly turned wet with cold rain. But, by 10:30 the clouds were lifting and, eventually, the sun came out and we shed our winter gear. By 3:30 it is back on and we were in rain again.

Regardless, the entire trip from Fairbanks to Anchorage is beautiful, if you like mountains. The road runs a valley between two ranges of mountains. So, we have rugged snowy peaks on both our right and left. We stop for a view and pictures of Denali but he/she is cloaked in clouds. I'm told she, I will say, is fully visible only about 30 days out of the year. We catch only the occasional glimpse through the heavy clouds. She lies in a notch cut within a closer mountain range that act like her guardians. They ARE visible and very striking. She is 20370 feet, although recent GPS/satellite readings have placed her a tad higher. (A diversion – the same methods used to calculate her hight are being used to calculate the universe's size, expansion rate and the distance to stars. If Denali is off by even a foot or two, and we thing it might be 7, how much confidence can one have in the measurements of space and time? As I've often pondered, there is a lot of faith in science. And, accepting that, as most serious scientists do, one cannot rule out the existence of the almighty – as, of course, those who know my story, I can not do despite my devotion to physics.)

We are headed to Homer. We'll return the way we went in and then drop down to Seward returning on the same road. Both destinations are end of the road destinations and a little backtracking cannot be avoided.

Leaving Anchorage, a very large town with a Nordstrum and a Westin, we are delivered to long bay with mountains that just drop into the water. It's an impressive sight and the road is a blast. It's flat as it hugs the shore line but it is filled with twisties that, given the number of other bikers we meet, is the primary Saturday putt. I don't blame them. If there is so much as an ice cream stand at the end of either the Seward or Homer runs, that would be all the excuse needed, assuming any is needed at all.

Here my mother would have found her paradise with the mountains at her back and the sea before her.

Reindeer kielbasi for supper tonight. Tastes just like kielbasi!