Biggest brother Bri and I got up early-ish and changed our game plan. We made a run for some Bad Ass and some groceries, following which I made an epic load of my famous eggs and after allowing that sack of rocks to settle in our stomachs for an hour or so, we hit the driveway with Mike played a little more “moose”. When Mike had nearly worn Brian out, we went for a short ride around the neighborhood. Kev set me up on his Szazbo and we ran through the woods like a pack of unruly teenagers…at least when we weren’t on the street and reminding Mike to watch for mailboxes, because he’s 6.

So Bri and had I agreed that the point to our being here is to be with Kev and not to spend 8 hrs on a mountain, so we compromised and decided to climb Flat Top instead, which only requires an hour commitment and not the 6-8 that the originally planned for O’Malley Peak would have taken.

This is Flat Top from the parking area. When we were stepping out on the trail head, we bumped into Jennifer (one of Michelle’s sisters), her husband Brian, their friend Kat and Kat’s friend Steve, who were descending. Jen told us that when they arrived there was a brown bear in the parking lot and they’d just passed a momma and baby moose. They’d spotted porcupines and a few other creatures out on the trail, none of which Bri and I encountered.

The climb is steady and a little steep, but it doesn’t get rock-scrambly-sketchy until the last 100 yards or so. From the top of the mountain you can see the Powerline Trail which runs up the valley and pops out by Indian, I’m hoping to ride it with the boys but I’m not sure time will allow for it this trip. That’s Anchorage behind and below Bri.

As soon as we got back to Kev’s pad, the boys ventured out for a “real ride”, and I set in to relax a bit. It was short lived, the phone rang 20 minutes later and I had to hop in the rescue vehicle and collect them from Beluga Point because Bri managed to get 3 flats, exhausting their supply of fix it your own damn self bits. My arrival coincided perfectly with the launch of a downpour.

There’s a certain amount of lawlessness here…motorcyclists without helmets and underage booze sales and general do-your-own-thing-as-long-as-you-don’t-hurt-anyone-else-ness. The Last Frontier.

I’m going to pick Ariel up from soccer practice after I post this, and dinner plans involve Suzanne (our step-mom) and hopefully Jennifer (my sister) and Steve (her husband) as well. Brian is slated cook so maybe they’re better off staying away? If nothing else, we’ll be afforded the midnight sun.

Aside: I’m addicted Mancala.