Into the Woods

Local fungi anecdote: apparently somewhere "south of Fairbanks" are acres and acres of morels.  Like a lower-level mafia figure, a guy appeared in an old pickup truck at the cafe and without preamble offered to sell us these delicacies picked by a woman he knows from around there.  Just making his way down the highway, over a hundred miles or more, hoping for deep-pocketed mushroom enthusiasts.  My boss sprang for a pound at $20, not too shabby.

And...I finally made it into the park!  Remember that car every other kid had in high school, a ten-year-old Toyota with faded paint, a million miles, worn out brakes, a tiny middle front seat?  That's our company car, used to shuttle employees up to the other restaurant we run up at the canyon.  If there's space, we're welcome to tag along.  I got dropped curbside, hustled past the busloads of tourists, and started hiking the easy paths by the entrance.  There are about fifteen miles of trails with little elevation gain, including one that intersects with the scenic railroad.

The wooded areas are pretty similar to what we have out back of our place.  Now that I've got the lay of the land, I'll tackle the peaks and more involved trails.

It could be coincidence but it seems the increase in traffic has caused our neighbor mooses (meese?) to retreat back into the wilderness.  I went with a friend on one of my regular hikes today, past the at-first-alarming-but-now-reassuring-signpost moose leg.  It just so happens that she has a coworker who collects bones, putting them to decorative use about her employee housing in a non-serial-killer fashion.  You be the judge: