T R A V E L
O
n August 12, 2017, our cruise ship pulled into port at Juneau, Alaska. The air was cold and crisp. Both my husband and I were excited and a little scared about our next adventure. We were going to tour in a helicopter, then land on the Mendenhall Glacier and walk on ice. To tell you the truth, I had never written “walking on a glacier” as one of my bucket-list-must-do-items, but once I got into the thrill of the activity, I was ready to try this new challenge. We were driven to the Juneau airport. One amazing fact that I didn’t know about Juneau is that it is landlocked. There are no roads leading into or out of Juneau. The only way to get in and out is by boat or air. The large glaciers and the mountainous forests keep the city landlocked and unable to expand. We were given a pair of snow boots, ski pants, a ski jacket, and helmet to wear. We were handed a pair of ice axes, a small backpack for our equipment, and a trekking pole; a fancy word for a walking stick with a metal point that pokes the ice to determine depth. They escorted us to the helicopter. I was seated by weight in the front seat of the helicopter. I love helicopter flights. I’ve hovered over spewing volcanic lava, rugged porous sandstone coastlines, and on this flight, we glided over the most magnificent glacier in Alaska. The view was splendid, filled with mountains of massive snow drifts, remarkable ice sculptures changing with each turn of the blades. I was awestruck looking into the deep blue water that flowed beneath the virtual winter wonderland below. I was overwhelmed
Photos courtesy of Dr. Deena Stacer
WALKING on
a GLACIER By Dr. Deena Stacer
by the majesty and power of this glacier. Everywhere I looked it was a breathtaking view with swirls of snow and ice blocks that kept changing shapes as we flew by. As the helicopter landed on the ice, anxiety grabbed my heart. We disembarked and cautiously shuffled our feet across the crunchy slippery ice to the guide’s orange tent staked in the ice to keep it from blowing away. The ice was filled with a kaleidoscope of all shapes and sizes. It was also scary as we shuffled one
foot at a time, holding hands, slowing making our way toward the tent 25 feet away. At the tent we were given Crampons to fit onto our boots. They reminded me of the vintage metal adjustable skates I skated on during my childhood. Once we put on the crampons, three metal prongs extended forward and angled down from the toe of our boots. They were our brakes and the ice cutters for our feet. They would secure our footing in the slippery and hard-to-get-traction ice.
The guides taught us a few strategies for glacier walking, and off we marched behind our guides to explore this magical world. We were just learning how to coordinate all of our equipment, crampons and trekking poles, when my husband commented, “You know that blue color underneath the ice is deep rushing water? If the ice breaks it will sweep us away?” “Thanks, honey!” I muttered… I really didn’t want to think about being sucked into a swirling, bottomless blue lake with freezing temperatures.… I suggested we focus on walking in the same footprints as our guides. They seemed to know which sections of the ice were safe to hike on. We spent an hour learning to use our tools while we diligently stayed together exploring the changing textures of the glacier. We traipsed through mushy, crunchy, slick, and smooth ice. We saw changes in the depth of the blue water under the ice. We walked on white powdery snow. The guides told us that we were going to climb up an ice wall. I thought they were talking about us climbing an ice wall like one of those rock climbing walls in a gym. We practiced walking up and down the hills using our trekking pole and crampons. I needed a little extra help from our guides to walk sideways up the hills so I would be prepared to climb this mysterious ice wall. One of the men in our group was a daredevil. He was having a great time jumping from extra high mounds of snow and wandering off to find the newest ramp he could conquer. He reminded me of a little boy in
33
