It’s August 1, and the fireweed is up across the state, which means winter is 6 weeks away, according to Alaska folklore. I hope not, but the warmth seems to be waning lately, and there was already some yellow up north.  My parents have been visiting, and it’s been nice to have them but also overwhelming in a way to have people around me all the time.

I’ve taken the shuttle into the park many, many times, and every time is different.  The scale of this park is impossible to capture with a camera. I’ve never understood why people freak out over Yellowstone and Yosemite: neither have the sheer scale or the ability to make you feel like a speck in the universe. We saw a ton of grizzlies – including the fattest bear I have ever seen in the Interior – but the clouds were way cooler. My new cover image is one. I can only hope if I end up cashing in my Road Lottery permit, the weather cooperates. The tundra turns red in the fall; it’s pretty magical.

It was nice to get out on the road again. I plan to get up to Fairbanks, Delta Junction and down the Richardson at some point in August or early September. It’s been tough to make plans to get out of town with everything happening here, but I realize a big reason I’m starting to feel like I’m over Alaska is because I’ve been stuck in shitty Anchorage for so long… this was not the kind of life I was living before the pandemic. And the pandemic is not over, as much as people seem to want to believe it is; I’m glad I held onto my masks, as it’s time to start wearing them again.