I had one of the best flights ever yesterday. I didn't even plan it. I went out to check on Miss T (our Taylorcraft), and decided that it was way to beautiful out not to fly. So I called home and left a message saying where I was going and for how long. I've made numerous landings on lakes with skis before, but none like this one so far. Towards the end of the flight I decided to head over to the Muklung and Iwithla area, about 10-15 minutes NE of Dillingham. As I got closer I had the urge to relieve myself. When I got there I started flying around the ridges. On one of the last shoulders I spotted a place that I thought might just be good enough to land, or at least drag my skis. So I made a pass, and then another one, and another. Getting a little bit more bold every time. I picked out a good touchdown point, and told myself "No pressure, if everything doesn't look good just go around. You don't NEED to land here." On my last final everything was stable, so I decided to commit. I held the yoke all the way back, and she plopped down an airplane length or less from my aim point. We slid to a stop, and I hopped out. Looking at Miss T was truly an amazing sight. I could see mountains and frozen rivers and blue bird skies everywhere I looked. Being out there all by myself with no one to give me lessons or advice was awesome. After producing a little yellow snow, I walked forward to determine how much real estate I had left. Clambering back into Miss T, I buckled up and firewalled the throttle. The mighty A-65 roared to life, and my 65 stallions charged forward towards the edge of the world. My tail was up in two seconds flat, and was at flying speed in no time. It was over way too fast, and entirely addicting. Slowly I turned towards home, and the fading sun. Savoring the moment all the way.