Just before the Sterling Highway drops into Homer, a narrow road called Rogers Loop peels off to the left. Follow it a short way and you’ll find the Homestead trailhead, a small gravel lot with room for maybe ten cars. It doesn’t look like much from the road. Don’t let that fool you.

Cody and I hiked to the top and back in about two hours on a Monday after lunch. The weather had been sulking all morning, but by the time we laced up, the clouds were starting to break apart. Light fell through the spruce in long, uneven bands, and the forest floor kept shifting between shadow and gold as we climbed. The trail is well kept and clearly marked, with maps posted along the way, and even after a wet week there was hardly any mud to speak of.

The lower forest was full of small surprises. Mushrooms pushed up through the moss in every shape and color, and the bushes still held the last of the season’s cranberries, blueberries, and raspberries. A porcupine watched us from the brush for a moment before deciding we weren’t worth the trouble. Down in the lowlands, little birds flitted between branches, never staying still long enough for a good look. We passed several people with their dogs, who were clearly having the best day of anyone on the mountain.

At the top there’s a bench, and it’s placed exactly where it should be. On a clear day the view opens wide over the bay and the mountains beyond, and it’s the kind of quiet that makes you want to stay longer than you planned.

This trail doesn’t close up shop when summer ends. Cody tells me that once the snow comes, families head up here on snowshoes and cross-country skis, and we’re already planning a winter trip of our own. Summer, fall, or the dead of January, it’s worth the drive.

So pack a lunch, fill a thermos with hot tea, bring the kids and the dog, and give yourself an afternoon on the Homestead Trail. Sit on that bench for a while. You’ll still make it down in time for whatever comes next.