Urban trekker
Twenty years ago, my wife and I took a delightful bike ride with our infant son along the Coastal Trail in western Anchorage. When we bought our house the next year, access to this trail was the top reason for choosing our neighborhood. Since then, we have skied, walked and biked every inch of it many times over, from downtown to Kincaid Park.
When my job moved to City Hall last year, I realized that I could make the 3-mile commute year round on bike, foot or ski via the Coastal trail. So far, I have driven to work exactly one day – only to get exclusive access to a computer server before anyone else arrived for the day.
There are other people about occasionally: someone walking a dog, small groups of women running together, other skiers getting some exercise before heading home and preparing for work. But most mornings, I am the only one. I enjoy my solitude, giving space to some daydream or simply listening to a French lesson on my Ipod. An occasional encounter with a moose might make me late.
My journey home after work is a much more relaxed affair. There’s no pressure to hurry, and I don’t. There is also more warmth and, with increasing length to the days now, more light. Smells from restaurants I pass on my walk are a powerful temptation to stop and sit, and it is only the pleasure of my upcoming ski that pulls me away.
At Elderberry, I leave the city behind. Earlier this winter, I would arrive on the trail just in time for sunset, and I would find other folks taking in the beautiful light that spreads across Cook Inlet. I look forward to the return of the sun for my evening ski. The hardest part of winter, the darkness, is passing. I feel that I too have passed a divide, an almost tangible thing that I can reach out and touch, something that has changed what was just an idea into a reality and a part of my life. I have evolved from someone playing with an idea to someone who treasures this transition from work to home and family life. It is not only that I am in better physical shape than when the winter started but in a better frame of mind as well. As I make my way home on this familiar trail, past others out for an equally enjoyable time, I cannot help but feel that I am blessed to have the Coastal Trail, without which none of this would be possible.
My name is Alan Julliard, and I live a Big Wild Life!™