For all the jokes about how Alaska "isn't really a state," we certainly know how to throw down a good fourth. Celebrations began Friday and continued through the weekend, finally wrapping up this morning when I awoke, exhausted and sore, in my tent after camping.
The Fourth of July is one of those summer holiday weekends when the majority of Anchorage residents choose to leave town. Girdwood hosts the Forest Fair, the hippiest, most pot-ridden handmade craft fair you'll ever see. Groups of visitors and residents of all ages can be seen walking floatily in and out of the trees coming to and from frequent smoke breaks. There are big-ticket professional art booths, as well as the crunchy tie-dyed underwear booth run by 12-year-olds. The food-- typical summer festival fare such as funnel cakes and turkey legs-- is of course the best part. The Forest Fair mantra is "no politics or religious orders" in order to encourage hippie-style harmonious living. It's a little over the top but always fun to let your inner forest fairy loose with face painting and henna tattoos.
Further down the Seward Highway comes another fourth tradition: the town of Seward. This teeny harbor town about 2 hours south of anchorage only has a population of about 2500 people, but a reported 40,000 pack into its tiny streets for this holiday weekend. The roads are closed to traffic, and instead filled with people, food and craft booths, and runners doing the famous Mt. Marathon race.
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| My friend Kate on her way to a top-ten finish in the 2010 race |
Mt. Marathon is an event unlike any other; it's a 3,000 foot peak right in the town of Seward, and every Fourth of July about 900 lucky folks get to run up to the top and back down. There is a lottery for spots every year--capped at 350 per division for trail safety--as well as an auction of ten spots the night before. People paid up to $2,400 just to scramble up a mountain. There's no set trail, just a rock face, some trees clinging to a cliff, and brush. It's a full body workout of pulling yourself up the cliff by tree roots and trying not to slip backward on loose rock. Once you climb the initial cliff, it doesn't get any easier as the trail stays at an intensely steep angle for the next mile of climbing. Once you turn around, the dangerous part begins: scrambling and leaping through fields of snow and loose rock until sliding down a creek bed and rock face to the bottom. Runners typically finish the race on Seward's Main Street covered in--literally-- blood, sweat, and tears (and mud).
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| view from the top! |
Details aside, it really is one of the most unique races in the world, and part of my July 4th tradition since I was about twelve years old. (Juniors-17 and under- run halfway up the mountain before turning around; adults run to the summit.) This was only my second adult race, and I had no training under my belt (preferring to spend my summer working and partying rather than exhausting myself on dangerous mountains) but I still managed to make it up and down in one piece. After the race is over, a free shower and donning the finisher shirt put you in a good mood for the rest of the day. I had plenty of time to enjoy American staples like hot dogs, a parade, fireworks, and beer. Thanks to my friends watching the race, and ice-cold Alaskan Amber greeted me at the finish line. And Monday night's camping celebration was another night to (not) remember. Cameras from the tv show "Alaska State Troopers" showed up at our campsite as troopers attempted to control drunken America fans. Luckily, their main concern was drunk drivers, and allowed the festivites to go on undistrubed.
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| post-race festivities |
All in all, a fabulous weekend celebrating a fabulous country-- with its own unique Alaskan twist.
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