June 27
I’ve run up the game trail on Antler Creek before, through the brush & along the scree falling off the ridge, up toward the point where you have to cross-hill to attain the saddle that lets you get to the peak, but I’d turned around before crossing over to see the other side. Earlier this week, ground-pounding for a search & rescue that ended favorably, I finally eased over the cusp & saw a great swath of unbroken tundra spreading easy & rolling toward Savage River. & just south of it, the complete opposite: an interconnected network of narrow ridges that gave out on a steep bowl criss-crossed with sheep trails winding down to the headwaters of Dry Creek, tucked in where the sun can’t find ample purchase to melt off the mazarine shelves of ice lingering on well past their season. & though I’d hiked up at a brisk pace under grave enough auspices, I still marveled at it & couldn’t help but eye routes for longer runs. It’s astonishing to me how this landscape o