If you love being outside surrounded by spectacular views, go to Alaska. We visit--Dan, Theo and I--hoping to see wild animals in Denali National Park and whales in Resurrection Bay, hoping to see the top of Mt. McKinley when the clouds part, hoping to see the seals and octopus--in short, a world that's so different from where we live.
What we don't expect to see is a glacier cascading into the bay. We also don't expect to see another glacier--Exit Glacier--or what is left of it receding into some of the most beautiful country. WE want to serve as witnesses to what some call global warming, others climate change. The once magnificent glacier is disappearing, receding into the distance. It looks closer than it is, and we're reeled in like a fish on a line.
We want to see this glacier up close. Theo, the gangster cat, can see but can he really see? He would prefer to sniff, which means that even though we can see this glacier from the road, to actually sniff it means hiking the trail.
You may wonder why glacial ice is blue when water is clear or white looking. It has to do with light and the compression of snow and ice. The deeper the glacial ice, the less air which deflects the light so the ice appears blue. But Theo doesn't care about that.
Our first glimpse of the glacier is from the road.
Then with snow-capped mountains in the distance and a river roaring next to us, we decide to hike the path. There are actually three trails--the easiest to the most difficult, ranging from one mile to 8 miles. Markers along the trail show how much the glacier has retreated during the last century. From 1917 to 1987 the glacier has retreated one mile and currently is losing about 300 feet a year.
We choose the two mile trail, not knowing exactly where we'll end up but hoping it takes us close to the glacier. We walk through the woods, on wood chips which partially cover the trail, over rocks and boulders, across a stream (where we almost fall in as we leap across), getting closer and closer believing the trail will take us where we want to be. We emerge into a clearing, our feet wet from the stream, with bits and pieces of leaves and twigs in our hair. Dan braves the rest of the way down and snaps a photo.
We see the glacier but learn (after consulting some professional hikers) that to get close enough to sniff the glacier means we have to go back to the beginning and take the longer eight mile trail.
I'm no Math genius but that means two miles back, eight miles forward and eight miles back.
I look at Dan and he looks at me. We both look at Theo who is craning his neck to see the glacier, still hoping we have further to walk but the river is in front of us and there's nowhere else to go but back.
"We know you're disappointed," I tell Theo, "but seriously, we need to go back and eat lunch."
I can see the "but" forming on his gangster face.
"It would mean hiking another eighteen miles, Theo."
It's a beautiful day. The scenery is stunning, and we did manage to get closer to the glacier.
"I packed you a terrific lunch," I add.
If Theo has a bucket list and sniffing the Exit Glacier is on it, he gives up his dream and nods. Hiking or eating? Tuna. And like a real trooper he begins the two mile trek back to the food.
