Before driving out to the Exit Glacier, I had a quick reccie around the busy harbour and old town; grabbing a massive Tuna sandwich and a coffee at The Bakery.
Impressive. I’m looking forward to tomorrow’s ffjord cruise.
Sitting now on this rock, eyes closed. I can feel the presence of the Exit Gflacier, its mass, even now as it is in recession. The cold breath of it is a tonic, as relaxing as any massage. Looking down towards its moraine (the garbage it pushes before it) and on towards the plains of flattened and ghostly pine forest, I get a glimpse of the dreadful force of nature in the raw.
Irresistible. Implacable. Relentless.
Yet beauty is also trapped within the ice, the colour shifts from whites to greys to shining blues, the textures, the sculptured shape.
I had planned and wanted to walk up the trail and onto the (beginning) of the Harding Icefield, but was unable to do so because of the pain from my leg and because time was running short on an eight mile hike.
On the plus side I did see black bears. A cub and mother far-and-away in the distance on the edge of the tree line far above us.