A while back I read, "Into Thin Air," by John Krakauer, about the doomed Mt. Everest expedition. It's impact was lasting, and in my diluted perception of reality, I often reflect on that well chronicled event, and say to myself, "I am an explorer, a conqueror of mountains, a man of elemental curiosity, and adventure; you guessed it, adventure is my middle name." Not really. But, I did climb into Mendenhall Glacier yesterday, which included a 7 mile hike through relatively dense forested unmarked trails, up 1500 foot ridges, and along the glacial lake formed by the melt from the massive ice shelf receding into the ice field that blankets the mountain range where Mendenhall was born. The contrast is sharp between the ridges, and slopes a mile from the glacier's current face, and the ones at its face. Mendenhall quite literally ripped, ground, an tore through the mountain, and left piles of gravel, rubble and sand in its wake. Just as surprising, was the texture of the glaciers icy surface. When left exposed to the relentless sun (which shines for 18 hours a day in the summer), little divets were melted into the ice leaving it rough and coarse, and surprisingly easy to navigate.
The Hike
The Glacier's surface
Ice Caves
One more day in Juneau!
