I don’t have all that many friends who are into the excessively strenuous activities I put together for myself and shop around to other people under the name of “hikes” or “mountain bike rides”. Sad, but true. When I do get a friend to go along with me for long rides or ambitious climbs, that friend is almost always a man. Why this is, I hope to someday figure out. Until that day, my partner card is heavily weighted on the dude side, pretty much all the time. My guy friends are awesome so I’m totally fine with this, but it would be nice to enjoy some estrogen occasionally.

Not to spoil the ending, but Geardog had a good day.

So I did my level best to sucker a girlfriend into a trip up a peak yesterday, which, honestly, is a pretty small peak and just kind of on the steep side for the last half. I warned her, I swear I did, and I thought I was really forthcoming with the type of day we were about to have so that she wouldn’t have any surprises, but evidently I’m not a communication superhero because after the few miles of the approach, she took one look at the barely discernible trail to the peak and said “Uh, no.” I tried halfheartedly to get her to go “just a little way up” but I honestly have learned my lesson with all that and resigned myself to a more mellow day than I wanted. This must be a sign of maturity for I really have accepted the fact that there will be more days coming along that are just as good for completing trips. I don’t like it, but I accept it. So instead of climbing up, we sat in the sun and watched the bore tide flow up Turnagain Arm.

The bore tide is a single wave that flows up narrow, shallow waterways with large low:high tide ratios. You can surf or SUP the bore tide if you care to.

From our overlook we also got to witness one of those legendary Seward Highway car crashes, but no one got hurt too terribly badly in this one so writing about it isn’t totally inappropriate. I just have to wonder how a driver, on a clear, dry, good weather day, fails to pay attention to the road to the point that they just slam into the back of another car when it slows to turn into a trailhead. The wreck we witnessed occurred at about 60 mph. Pretty interesting to see from that high-up vantage point. The at-fault truck was catapulted off the road and the Subaru it had struck was flung in an almost complete circle, its hatchback crushed. It ended up blocking our exit from the trailhead so getting out was a little sketchy; the state trooper being busy with picture taking, traffic directing was left to civilians with no radios, screaming half-heard directives at each other. “I’m lettin’ my side go now!” we’d hear, only to hear the other person scream, “no, my side is goin’!”

I suppose it’s just too easy to hire enough troopers to respond to emergencies…

People manage to crash on THIS day. Weird.

The view was an okay consolation prize for not reaching the peak.

Anyway, so today I met up, last-minute, with a dude friend to ride some MTB. True to form, he was game for anything and proposed an ambitious route that I hadn’t even thought of. We lost heart when it proved to be an utter mud bog, but we rode other stuff and just played Johnny Fuckaroundthetrails until we ran out of time and if the time limit hadn’t been in place, we’d have just kept going. I rarely experience this kind of freeform nonplanning with my female adventure partners. What’s up, ladies? Why does the fairer sex have such an unrelenting parade of unmovable obligations? My guy-partner ratio is stacked nine deep while I can’t remember the last time I had a woman adventure partner.

What’s the deal? Anyone know? Hopefully we’ll see some insight in the comments.