A Walk to Muddy Creek

I walked up the trail to Muddy Creek this morning.  It was 9:45am and just light outside.  The light was soft,  new snow was falling, and at 20 degrees who could pass up such a beautiful morning.

I don't venture up the Muddy Creek Trail alone at other times of the year. The creek is loud and I've seen too many bear tracks. It would be a fearful thing to accidentally come across one lounging in the creek because it didn't hear me approaching. This time of year however, the bear are all having a lovely siesta and I like to take advantage of it.

I got to the trail head and found that the previously snow-packed path (thanks to snow machine traffic), this morning was soft with new snow.  As I journeyed up, it was more like climbing a West Michigan sand dune than traipsing up an Alaska trail and my legs felt sluggish.

It was a quiet walk except for a few birds chirping, heard but unseen, probably the Chickadees and Magpies that stick around through the winter.  As I finally came to the top of the hill and neared the creek, I suddenly stepped in slush.  "That's odd," I thought as I kept walking, a bit more carefully now.  Then I almost lost my balance as my slushy wet boot hit ice under the snow.  Now walking even more cautiously, I arrived at the creek's edge which had once again become slush.

Muddy Creek was frozen over and stangely heaved up across the popular crossing section.  It looked like a small frozen dam.  I wasn't sure if the creek's running water underneath found it easier to flow down part of the path than down the creek itself because of the dam or if water from under the ground was being forced up as it has been in many other areas around here this winter.  More than likely some of both was going on.   

The ever changing scenery is one of the things I love about Alaska. You can find new things in old places.  God's power and creative beauty are so clearly seen.  The ordinary is amazingly extraordinary when I take the time to look around.