Exit Glacier

I have to tell you that as I was laying in bed this morning, contemplating this blog post, I had a brief moment of panic. You see, Eric flew out to Dutch Harbor this morning and in hopes of catching a glimpse of all things "Deadliest Catch", he took the camera with him. I thought my pictures for this post were with him, but lucky for me (and you), my brilliant husband downloaded them from his memory card onto the computer last night. By the way, Andrea, I'll have Eric do a Dutch Harbor post for you when he gets back. Keep your fingers crossed, maybe he'll even catch a glimpse of Sig and Edgar in the local bar! For now, I can go about my blogging as I had originally intended.

One of the days my family was here, we took a day-trip to Seward. On our way there, we stopped at the Alaska Wildlife Conservation Center and much further down the road, we made a stop at Exit Glacier. We had no idea what this glacier was going to have in store for us, but we did know that we would be able to hike out to it and actually touch it. Touching it was the big draw for the kids and I, and actually, probably for the rest of the family as well. When we finally made it out to the glacier, it did not disappoint!

At the visitor's center we asked about the "trail" out to the glacier. We were mainly concerened as to how long it was and how difficult the terrain would be. We were assured we could all make it out to the glacier fairly quickly and were warned about a few "little rivers" to cross. The "little rivers" didn't concern us too much because we were told that people had set stepping stones in the water along the way to make the crossings manageable. At this point, there was no mention of wet feet or water deep enough that one false move/slip and it could merit a change of shoes and socks (shoes and socks that we did not have to spare). Armed with the limited knowledge that we had, we set out to touch the glacier.

We started out on the trail and shortly, we approached the "little rivers". Off in the distance we could see Exit Glaicier, but we soon realized that we would have to cross several, a little-deeper-than-anticipated rivers, using not-nearly-enough-stepping-stones-to-ensure-your-feet-would-remain-dry. After crossing the first bit of water and reassessing the situation, Eric and I decided our immediate family wasn't going to be going out to the glacier because we didn't want the kids moaning and groaning about wet feet for the rest of the day. We all decided to turn around and venture a little further along a different trail to see what we could see. At the end of that trail, we ran into some people who had just ventured out from that point to cross over to the glacier. They said it wouldn't be too difficult, so we decided to give it another valiant effort (plus now we had to listen to the kids moan and groan because they weren't able to walk out to touch the glacier). This time, we all decided we were gonna' touch that darn glacier even if our feet and potentially our bodies ended up soaked.

After much fancy footwork, we all finally made it to the glacier (relatively dry) and it was really a neat thing to be able to say we did. This particular glacier has receded so much over time that it doesn't appear to be calving (big pieces braking off) anymore, but little pieces of ice do still come loose from it and they make a little tinkling noise as they bounce down the face of the glacier. Standing there, touching the glacier, was one of those only in Alaska moments. It was one of those times when I was actually in awe of the fact that I live in Alaska. Fortunately, I do have those moments every now and again.