This morning we slept in to 6:30 a.m. and hitch-hiked a ride on a bus heading to the Eielson Center. We had purchased “Tek Passes” that allowed us the one guaranteed trip to Wonder Lake and then for the rest of our stay we can hop on and off buses according to the availability of seats. Bill and I caught seats across the aisle from each other. He sat next to the mom of a family group, and I sat next to the sullen teen-age daughter. Such luck. 
There were a couple other kids that were friendlier than either one of those, not to say that was a difficult stretch. Eventually several folks departed the bus and we were able to sit together right in front of our not-so-happy-to-be-here-together group. The two youngest children did warm to Bill and me and reported that they had been in Alaska for eleven days and hadn’t seen one bear. We encouraged them that they would surely see bears on this trip since we had seen so many the day before. We lied. We rode all the way to the Eielson Center (mile 66) with nary a bear. 
The view from Polychrome Pass was even more spectacular than it had been the day before. The sky was clear and we could see both Mt. Deception (so named because people sometimes think they are seeing Denali) and Mt. Denali crystal clear. The bus driver said that she might see Denali 20 times in all of her summer trips into the park. Only one in five visitors in general score such a view and here Bill and I were with two day-in-a-row sightings. Wow.
We hopped off the bus at Eielson Visitor Center and decided to strike off on our own. There’s a maintained trail across the road that zigzags up the crest behind. It’s a long haul up there and people at the top look like mere specks. But – there were too many people on that route so Bill and I struck off to the incline just to the east. There was no trail here and no other people. We did some serious climbing and scrambling around this spot. I have to tell you, the abundance of wildflowers was staggering. 
Yesterday on the bus, Cindy had told us that a botanist had visited Eielson Center for one day to document all the wildflowers in that very vicinity. She returned to the center with over 100 different kinds in her notebook. I felt like I’d died and gone to heaven. I don’t think I’ve ever been a wildflower nut before but it’s hard not to be impressed when you come upon a totally different flower every hundred feet! Bill even became adept at pointing out new flowers to me and on this hike, he pointed to some small blue flowers. I recognized these as the Alaskan state flower; the Forget-Me-Nots.
We hiked to the top of our ridge where we sat to enjoy our lunch. This place reminded me of the scene from The Sound of Music where Julie Andrews spins around singing. We were up there all by ourselves in a little slice of God’s heaven. The wildflowers around us were multicolored and there were even honey bees (a rarity in Alaska) buzzing around us while we ate – and flies of course. 
The temperature was comfortable enough that I stayed in my long-sleeved shirt, the sun was shining, the smell was as fresh and crisp as air can be. In fact, that’s one thing Bill and I had practiced several times. We just stood still, closed our eyes and allowed ourselves to be aware of the breeze on our skin, the sounds around us (even if they were predominantly the sounds of insects) and the aroma of where ever we were. It’s really easy to just get caught up in the visual and forget all the other sensations.
As we climbed up a large washout to cross over in a less difficult place, a young caribou trotted by. A little farther down the wash we came upon a bird I later identified as a Wilson’s Warbler; about the size of a chickadee and a dull yellow. Shortly after that I caribou trotted by below us in the opposite direction.
We enjoyed watching the tour buses pull up to “spot” us as we had to be not much more than dots up on the hills above them. After a couple hours of hiking we made our way back down to the road and waited for a bus pick up. The way home was nearly tedious but we sat near a couple from Hardy Dam (about an hour from Mt. Pleasant) and another couple from Vermont. They were retirees and very friendly; both couples on the road for months at a time.
We also sat behind a family who were originally from Spain but the father was a correspondent for a Spanish radio station, based in Washington, D.C. The son (maybe 10 years old) and young lady daughter were extremely personable. And then there was the two adolescents directly behind. They were total opposites of each other; one who was cute and friendly enough, the other who had the dark, sullen, angry look. I couldn’t help but strike up a conversation with them, having raised teen-aged boys myself. They weren’t all that bad and talking to them made Mr. Sullen a bit less obnoxious.
The weather had taken another ugly spell for a while on this trip. Dark clouds rolled in and it looked like rain was promised. We picked up several soggy hikers who described having been pelted with hail and around the next corner the bus driver pointed out the side of one small mountain that was lightly dusted with snow. That hadn’t been there when we left for the Eielson in the morning.
Well into our return journey, the large bull caribou that had been resting his head the day before was on the move in the same spot today. I actually spotted his rack coming through the willows before he was visible. He came up out of the scrub and crossed the road directly in back of the bus.
