View from the Top of the Hill
Near Mile 120 of the Glenn Highway there is a small road leading to the valley floor. The road has a name but I can't think of it right now. It has something to do with communications because at the end of the road there is as large hill with a com tower on the top.
You can see some rain in the back ground. It would be a clue as to what I was going to have to ride through. It didn't rain the whole time, just in bursts. However, it was the heaviest rain I'd experienced, and several times I thought about stopping until it let up.
I had been by on the Highway and looked at the small peak wondering what was over there. This time I was on my way to Valdez and figured I should check it out. After all, while the colors hadn't changed in Anchorage, they were ablaze at the higher altitudes. I was surprised to see the grass as red as it was. In Michigan the grass changes color too, but only when it dies.
When I reached the top there were two people up there on Mountain Bikes. They were camping down near the river you had to cross, picking blue berries and decided to go for a ride. I commended them for riding up the hill and we talked about techniques for riding down. All of us were worried about sliding off a corner and falling to our death. I made it down without any trouble and went on my way.
From the top of the hill you could see several trails heading towards the mountains. If I can find someone to go with me this summer they may need to be explored.
You can see some rain in the back ground. It would be a clue as to what I was going to have to ride through. It didn't rain the whole time, just in bursts. However, it was the heaviest rain I'd experienced, and several times I thought about stopping until it let up.
I had been by on the Highway and looked at the small peak wondering what was over there. This time I was on my way to Valdez and figured I should check it out. After all, while the colors hadn't changed in Anchorage, they were ablaze at the higher altitudes. I was surprised to see the grass as red as it was. In Michigan the grass changes color too, but only when it dies.
When I reached the top there were two people up there on Mountain Bikes. They were camping down near the river you had to cross, picking blue berries and decided to go for a ride. I commended them for riding up the hill and we talked about techniques for riding down. All of us were worried about sliding off a corner and falling to our death. I made it down without any trouble and went on my way.
From the top of the hill you could see several trails heading towards the mountains. If I can find someone to go with me this summer they may need to be explored.
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