After a quick breakfast and quick good-byes to Jason and Jennifer, Lee and I headed south on the only highway out of town. We had a long 7-8 hours of road ahead, followed by an equally long flight.

The weather was rainy, but actually quite pretty. Though drops of water were falling on our windshield, you could see snow dusting the mountains just above us. The thermometer on the car read a chilly 37 degrees – and it was June 7.
We made it to Anchorage in plenty of time to say goodbye to our rental car and check in for the flight. The weather had improved during our drive, and Anchorage was awash in sun. On the flight out of town, nothing blocked my view of the mountains, and I was absolutely mesmerized. Even after we reached our “cruising altitude,” the mountains seemed so close to the bottom of the plane. Thick snow still blanketed the peaks, and the powder looked as though it had never been touched. It reminded me this time of marshmallow crème. Maybe I was hungry, I don’t know. But whatever my frame of mind, the view was undeniably beautiful. I snapped some photos as the mountains and glaciers slipped by underneath us, and was both saddened and elated. I was sad to be leaving Alaska, but elated I had actually been there, and that it was as wild and wonderful as I’d imagined.