By Lesley Sauls

I hung up the phone in frustration. My luggage had been found but would not be routed to me in Anchorage until the following evening, so my companion and I were delayed from our fishing trip on the Kenai Peninsula by a day. Never one to complain about such an unexpected redirection, I got online and rooted around in our hotel's brochures until I came up with an exciting day trip out of the state's largest city.

The next morning we were up bright and early to head northeast out of the city in search of Denali, the highest peak on North America's tallest mountain, Mount McKinley. We'd hoped it would loom ahead of us for our drive, but low clouds and a steady rain prevented us from ever getting even a glimpse of the majestic summit. Instead we drove the George Parks Highway through Wasilla and made tired jokes about being able to see Russia from our car. I had my iPod out and was reading the details of each town through which we traveled on our pilgrimage to Denali, and it was when we reached the turnoff to a little town called Talkeetna that we decided to give up hope of seeing the notorious mountain and try to find some lunch instead. Fourteen miles up the Talkeetna Spur Road, we found a small colony of shops and restaurants nestled in a pine forest. Cruising down the village's short Main Street we saw the Denali Brewing Co. and thought it might be the closest we would get to experiencing the mountain itself. We dashed through the rain and ducked into the small, enclosed porch — now a tasting room — where a fire in the corner took the chill off the cold summer afternoon.

Talking to the two young men behind the counter, I learned that we were, indeed, in the shadow of the great mountain and that we had arrived at the starting point of all treks. It turns out that Talkeetna is where all official climbers begin their Denali ascent, and we toasted our luck with the local brew. My favorite was the Louisville Sour, an award-winning golden ale. Unfortunately, Denali's craft beer is not yet available in most states, so we had to make do with our samples and a hearty lunch at the brewing company's attached Twister Creek restaurant.

While the rain slowed, we explored the shops across the road where local artists sell everything from stained glass, jewelry and textiles to paintings and photographs. Although it was early, I stocked up on holiday gifts that were well-made and as interesting as the stores in which they were purchased - many of which are housed in cabins from the early 1900s. I was also able to find a fun mug and other small, tasteful souvenirs.

One helpful shopkeeper told me not to leave town before visiting the local history museum just a block away, and she was spot-on. In that building we learned about the town's origins as a fishing village at the confluence of three glacial rivers. In time, gold and silver brought prospectors to the area, and a railroad soon followed. By the 1940s, mining had declined, and the population followed suit until mountaineers began eyeing the 20,320-foot peak of Mount McKinley and came to Talkeetna to kick off their treks. The area's trapping and mining history is depicted with dioramas and artifacts from the period, and a re-created train station is complete with a teletype machine. A restored trapper's cabin sits on the museum's property and is a testament to the intrepid settlers from a century ago.

The big surprise for us, however, was the to-scale model of Mount McKinley housed in a room of the museum adorned with flags from around the world that have been donated by successful hikers who have visited the mountain's summit. In this room we were able to walk around the mountain and explore the history of its climbers in warm safety — more than we had hoped for when we began our impromptu day trip.

A further revelation was only a few blocks away at the Walter Harper Talkeetna Ranger Station, where all climbers must register prior to scaling Mount McKinley or her more treacherous sister peak, Mount Foraker. The rangers at this station track every climber on a board that depicts how many people have attempted, succeeded and are currently attempting the mountain each year.

A movie about mountaineering and the dangers that exist on Denali was enough to deter me, but it gave me an appreciation for the extreme conditions that are endured by those willing to face them. If I ever get to see the mountain up-close, I think it will more likely be on one of the local air tours and won't require the months of training and preparation these daring hikers withstand.

With the clouds lifting and the rain at bay, we decided to dig a bit deeper into the mountains on our way back to Anchorage. I had read a little blurb about a 60-mile scenic mountain pass, and we detoured off the main highway to give it a ride. Unfortunately, I had not realized that 22 miles of Hatcher Pass are unpaved and sometimes rutted; fortunately, this unexpected difficulty simply served to slow us down so that we were better able to absorb the beauty of the alpine drive.

As we headed out of Willow, the mountain trees and scenery were as pretty as we had hoped. It was when we got onto the more treacherous road that things turned remarkable. We drove along a crashing, tumbling river and up into an alpine valley filled with wild flowers and glacial waterfalls. From the pass we could see silver mines bored into mountainsides and were treated by a visit from a marmot who wanted to see what the fuss was about as we slowly drove past his den. The sheer size of the mountains, glaciers, valleys and rivers is indescribable and overwhelmed me to the point I was speechless beyond one word: "Wow."

We finally made it out of the pass and down into Anchorage for a sunset dinner on a downtown bridge. From our table overlooking a salmon stream we were able to watch fishermen in waders along with children in flip-flops, all casting for a prize salmon to reel in. By then my luggage had been safely delivered to our hotel, and we had spent an unpredicted day learning more about Denali and Alaska than we ever would have if things had gone as planned. We raised our glasses of local beer and toasted to the fortuitous airline employee who had inadvertently added magic to our Alaskan adventure.

WHEN YOU GO

Denali Brewing Co.: www.denalibrewingcompany.com

Talkeetna Historical Museum: www.talkeetnahistoricalsociety.org

Walter Harper Talkeetna Ranger Station: www.nps.gov/dena/index.htm

Hatcher Pass: www.alaska.org/detail/hatcher-pass

Bridge Seafood Restaurant: www.bridgeseafood.com

A to-scale model of Mount McKinley is surrounded by historical information about the mountain and flags of international hikers who have scaled its summit. Photo courtesy of Lesley Sauls.

The Little Susitna River splashes and tumbles over glacial boulders along the 60-mile, rustic Hatcher Pass between Anchorage and Talkeetna, Alaska. Photo courtesy of Lesley Sauls.

Lesley Sauls is a freelance writer. To read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate website at www.creators.com.