Monday, February 23, 2009


There is no place like Homer when the sun's out. I skated for four and a half hours on the baycrest and marathon trails in Homer on Saturday. The pictures in this post will mostly speak for themselves.
I started out about where it says finish on the Sterling Highway and skied clockwise up Dimond Ridge to the Marathon trail, following it back over the ridges other side, up the next and probably about to "pucker factor" as marked on the map, before finally turning around. Back on the Baycrest trails I continue my clockwise loop, skirting the outermost trails marked in red as my legs had long since given in by then.

Mt. Augustine

Across Kachemak Bay



Don't know, other side of K-bay

The marathon trail is rugged and offer a remote feel to it, It passes though a mix of meadows and pockets of trees. The meadows make it feel as though there should be homes nearby though there are none. Aside from dropping into some cool canyons and having a bunch of small trees and edge catching stumps growing in the middle of the groomed trail even on descents, it also has a tendency to barge down ravines like the one above, where the drop and climb were so steep I thought I'd bury my tips at the bottom. It's all part of the appeal of the trail. I felt more like I often compare skating to road biking as its faster and the trails are more predictable, but this reminded me of my fat tire summer ride.

Dimond Ridge Rd looking one way and than the other. Which way would you go? What if you had to drive this to work everyday, how horrible.

Across K-bay ditto
This shot again

Sundown as clouds move in across the inlet

After my ski I drove down to town and out to the end of the five mile long Homer spit to sit on the bitter cold beach for a while and shoot some photos across the bay.

I spent a while numbing my fingers trying to get a shot of breaking white surf that mirrored the crests of the peaks on the other side of the bay. This is the closet I could get, it sort of works. It was Monday's cover art as well.

I almost got wet

The end of the spit is the farthest point one can drive west on the continent without taking a ferry to the remote villages with small unconnected road systems. In other words, the spit is the true end of the road for those driving west. I forgot to take a shot of the suby last time I was here when my mother visited in August.

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