-----Our free day in Anchorage was by no means one of simple rest and relaxation, as there was research and reservations and hike planning for the days to come, from our journey to Whittier and Homer tomorrow all the way through our return to Whitehorse in a week's time. It was also the last available day to do laundry until we return to the contiguous 48, a process which took the remaining hours of both the morning and the early afternoon. While this went on, my mom took great pleasure in taking our cell phone people to task via online chat because we were promised continuous cell coverage since North Pole and we haven't seen a single bar since Minot, but she realized about halfway into this process that she might have directed her rightful frustration into the void of a robot that responded in one of four preprogrammed ways. Nevertheless, it was a form of catharsis.

-----The rain was coming down steadily as we finished the laundry process and headed out into Anchorage. Our first stop of the day was going to be on the north side of the city, up at Ship Creek, where the salmon run had begun last week according to area news articles. But when we reached the Ship Creek overlook, no salmon could be seen in its meandering and rushing rivulets, and the rain made it not worth any more time spent there than we needed to. Though the temperature was in the mid-40s, our breath was visible in thick clouds.

-----We hopped back into the car and worked our way across the city to Earthquake Park, where evidence of the 1964 Good Friday earthquake could be seen ... well, at least at one point. Now, the drop-off to Knik Arm is covered in trees and shrubs, and while there is a significant drop, it seems hardly different from an especially precipitous hill. It was a well-done park and was a hot spot for dog walkers and runners (in shorts!) more so than a tourist spot. Still, it felt good to stretch the legs out, as the distance itself was a mere drop in the bucket compared to yesterday.

-----Coming back across Anchorage, we had our sights set on a local sandwich place called Arctic Roadrunner. While we knew that Memorial Day would involve closed restaurants, we had reason to believe that this one was open ... but alas, it was closed. Fortunately, we also chose it for its proximity to our hotel, so on the way back, we pulled into the Cattle Company steakhouse for what proved to be a huge meal. After a sampler appetizer that involved quasi-spicy boneless wings, shrimp cocktail, loaded potato skins, and—my personal favorite—panko-crumb-breaded, deep-fried zucchini slices, we all got ribeye steaks. My dad got garlic herb butter atop his steak, while I got bacon blue cheese. My sides were unique, not in content but combination, as I got both a Caesar salad and a garden salad, much to the consternation of our waiter. But I ate both of them and still had room for my dad and I to split a slice of mud pie that had coffee ice cream in it and shaved pecans on a coffee-flavored whipped cream on top.

-----It was a while before we got out the door, for our waiter at what appeared to be an understaffed establishment had to contend with a) doubling as the bartender and b) dealing with a family at the booth adjoining ours whose patronizing matriarch mistook corn silk for wayward hair. We were able to snag a significant discount by signing up for some kind of free customer's club, but in the hectic buildup to the dinner crowd which we had deftly avoided, they forgot to ask for our e-mail address. We left before they realized their mistake, thus mercifully sparing our inbox from cross-continental spam messages.

-----We waited until the clouds began to clear in earnest before embarking to our last destination for the day at Flat Top, a short hike leading to an overview of the entire city. The route took us more or less up the mountain face and eventually led to well-worn 1.5-lane dirt and packed gravel paths. There was an increasing level of trepidation in the car, but this turned to horror as we crossed through a gated fee area and were immediately faced with an even steeper hill with an ominous sign warning of a 17% grade. We were fortunate enough to be able to put the vehicle in reverse and use a well-placed pullout to get ourselves back down, at which point we realized that we'd gone over unsigned 14% grades going up around hairpin turns. The view from the top, while not of all of Anchorage, was most of it, and the view out to the arms of the Cook Inlet was breathtaking, especially as the sun—still hidden behind the departing storm clouds—glinted off of the ocean waters. Once back to flat land, we got gas in anticipation of the eventful day ahead.

-----Tomorrow: through the one-lane tunnel to Whittier and a hike to Portage Glacier, then back out again to Homer across the westernmost point on the North American highway system at Anchor Point.