Last night, we went to a baseball game to cheer on the Glacier Pilots, one of Anchorage’s two short-season, pre-minor-league teams. I’m sure there’s an official name for that, but I can’t remember it right now even though Josh did a great job of explaining all the myriad levels of baseball teams.
All I know is the reindeer hot dog tasted mighty fine, and the beer was cool and refreshing, and the background scenery behind the game rivaled (and possibly beat) that of the Rocky Mountains behind the Colorado Rockies.
After the game we drove through the streets of Anchorage to look for wandering bear and moose. Then we hiked around the local ski hill to play Frisbee – and look for wandering bear and moose. We were THIS close when a couple of fellas in a truck told us NOT TO keep walking up the hill because there had been a lot of bear activity lately and they could hear some yelping not far away.
I appreciated the warning, but there is part of me that really wants to arm myself with bear spray and seek until I find. Alas, I’d rather not be the next victim in the newspaper's daily mauling report…