I almost bit off more than I could chew.
I had arrived at the Mt. Roberts trailhead full of anticipation, but without much of a clue about what I was getting myself into.
Had I known, I probably would have started up the trail at a hiking pace, rather than at a run. Nevertheless, I set off, eager for adventure and exercise, and basking in the joy of having shed my business suit and donned my running gear.
I pushed on, but I was getting dehydrated and was starting to fade. I came upon two hikers who were sprawled out in a grassy area, soaking up the rare Juneau sun. I noted their backpacks, gaiters, trekking poles, and other gear, and felt woefully unprepared. Some Eagle Scout I am. One of them, apparently reading my mind, said “Hey, you’re traveling light. That’s the way to go. Until you need water. Or food.” I mustered up a laugh and told them that I was going farther than I had originally intended, but that I was fine and wouldn’t do anything dumb. Their silence told me that they thought I already had.
I turned left. The line between seeking a challenge and being foolhardy is sometimes a blurry one, but I felt pretty sure that tackling that snowy ridge in running shoes wasn’t a risk that I ought to be taking.
I headed up to Gold Ridge. Here’s the view from the top:
Definitely a good afternoon.