The Seward road south out of Anchorage may be the most spectacular yet. The road surface is very good, the traffic was light, and at every bend there were new visual delights. While we were headed some 250 miles south to Homer, the turn off to Hope was tempting and the prospect of encountering good fortune, at least through nomenclature, was just too easy. We lunched in Hope and took in whatever positive magi we could find.
It was difficult not to stop at every pull off . While the temps were a shade on the chilly side, the sun was bright and the sky blue, illuminating the jagged peaks and glistening off the snow fields, lakes, steams, and inlets. What a treat.
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| Local color |
From Hope the terrain started to flatten a bit and the last hour or so to Homer was less than inspiring. The old hotel we stayed in was a throwback to the fifties and our first evening was a little disappointing since we had heard so many glowing reports about the town's funky art and progressive history. A moose enjoying an evening munch-about and a nice looking pheasant right next to the hotel lifted our spirits.
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| Pretty typical architecture in Homer |
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| Gull Island |
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| Halibut Cove |
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| Puffins on our way to Halibut Cove |
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| This Sea Otter had tourist responsibility |
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| Halibut Cove |
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| We arrived at low tide. . .hence the steep climb up |
This morning, we had a great breakfast accompanied by some classic blues tracks on the cafe's sound system and our ride out to the Homer Spit made us better understand what all the fuss about the place was based on. The bay, beaches, and the harbor are all post card worthy. We got tickets to ride the Danny J, a nice little passenger boat, out to Gull Island and then on to Halibut Cove for lunch and a stroll around this art colony and secluded island village. In the winter, twenty residents brave the cold and dark. In summer, the resident population swells. . .to seventy-five.
It was difficult not to stop at every pull off . While the temps were a shade on the chilly side, the sun was bright and the sky blue, illuminating the jagged peaks and glistening off the snow fields, lakes, steams, and inlets. What a treat. 
From Hope the terrain started to flatten a bit and the last hour or so to Homer was less than inspiring. The old hotel we stayed in was a throwback to the fifties and our first evening was a little disappointing since we had heard so many glowing reports about the town's funky art and progressive history. A moose enjoying an evening munch-about and a nice looking pheasant right next to the hotel lifted our spirits.
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