Thunder Mountain
The trail to Thunder Mountain really kicks up right at the end. Suddenly I am free of the trees and on a flat ridge which acts as a divide. Looking back, there is sweeping view of the mountains ranges and islands that populate Southeast Alaska. Shimmering water and distant high peaks. Directly below me 2,600 feet down, residential Juneau, the capital of Alaska, squeezes into the narrow strip of flat land between mountain and water. From here I can see the airport, landfill, and jail, the abandoned Walmart, roads and neighborhoods. All of it the ugly and completely normal stuff found in every town. But it is strange to see those things from here because when I turn around and show my back to all of that, I am confronted with the most majestic natural landscape. It’s not just in front of me, I’m actually in it. This cramming together of things which are normally kept apart is what makes Juneau. The experience at the divide is aural just as much as it is visual. It’s actually incredible to experience the shift in sound. On one side is the sound of humanity. Vehicles streaming up and down Juneau’s lone highway, oversized trucks roaring their hearts out, pedal to the metal, frustrated by the reality of two dead ends confining fifty miles of isolated highway. Going a few more steps and just slightly down on the other side of the divide, the sound quickly turns to wind, and animals, and nothing.
Read More