The Ride of a Lifetime

We disembarked in Juneau today, the capital of Alaska. It is nestled deep within the northern reaches of Alaska's inside passage. Founded 13 years after the purchase of Alaska from the Russians at 7.2 million dollars (what a steal considering how humongous Alaska's land area is and how much gold it has; someone was definitely gypped and it wasn't the Americans).

Although the gold mines built during the Gold Rush in the 1800s have long since closed, the flavor of Juneau's early days still linger--gold-rush style saloons, mining museums, and authentic whore houses. Very striking are the modern hotels and shopping areas that stand beside these relics of old, along with the incredible wilderness that surrounds the city.

We signed up for the helicopter ride that would take us right on top of Mendenhall Glacier, which is 17 kilometers long and is located in the Mendenhall valley. Unlike Hubbard Glacier, Mendenhall is accessible by air and and can actually be walked on.

We had to wear special glacier boots, which had mean-looking spikes sprouting from the soles. We then took a brief 30-minute ride by helicopter, which in itself was the highlight of this Alaskan sojourn.

The view from the helicopter was priceless--a vast widreness of pure white reflecting the glare of the sun's rays directly back at us. The glacier looked like the world's largest cake liberally frosted with meringue icing piped in a curlicue pattern. Up close it was rough and rugged with a clear dirt path winding down the length of it. The pilot explained that the path was indeed a moraine-- a glacially-formed accumulation of debris showing the valley floor where the glacier has melted. It looked to me more like like an ice run-off path, but I learned that there is no such thing. The ice melts downwards in a random avalanche, unlike water that seeks its path.

We spent another 30 minutes hiking on the glacier with no clear destination, which was all anybody could spend on its surface because the cold was unbearable and also because there was really nowhere to go. There was one guide for every two people and they encouraged us to drink the water from a small creek-like water formation. It was the clearest, cleanest, most-tasteless water I had ever drunk. It was the experience of a lifetime; there are simply no words to describe it!

The grandness of the approach by air, the total quiet, the endless landscape of uninterrupted, gleaming white, and the biting cold all made the Mendenhall experience an indelible memory.