Posts Tagged ‘glaciers’
Glacier Hike
Day three had us headed back to the Vatnajökull Glacier again, this time on a tour where we could stand on it, touch it, and even drink from it. It was the second and last guided tour we purchased.
We were fitted for crampons and provided ice picks. While having us fill out our personal information, including any medical concerns they should know about, they offered to take photos of the groups. Even though none of our activities required specially trained responses, both tours we did gave every impression of being well-capable professional guiding companies.
They took our picture again.
We had just ridden in a bus to the point where we needed to start hiking. With a kick of her boot into the gravel, the guide demonstrated how the glacier pushes the rubble up in a ridge which then becomes a lake as the melting happens.
It was a significant hike with a fair amount of vertical gain to reach the ice.
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I looked up and had a flash vision of the photo of climbers waiting in queue to get to the summit of Everest.
Yes, there are a lot of tourists in Iceland. We were tourists, too, so it’s not that I could complain.
The glacier experience was powerful enough, nothing else mattered in the moment. Having this opportunity to step onto such a mass of ice when the drama of our warming planet is melting glaciers to oblivion felt emotionally heavy.
When we reached the gravel transition to gravel-covered ice that soon became just ice, we were given a quick lesson in securely strapping on crampons.
Soon, we were learning about glacier moulins where a weak spot in the ice becomes a pool that drains over time.
Our guide explained that melt water is safe to drink, but it “must be done” by a prone position with our hands on an ice axe. She positioned her axe and demonstrated the pushup position technique before giving us all a chance to try it.
It tasted awesome. She pointed out that the melt water lacks minerals that are contained in well water that has been filtered through the earth into underground aquifers.
Our guide parked us for a moment so she could check on a crevasse to ensure it was still safe enough for us to approach. The height we were allowed to climb on this finger of the glacier was limited to below where serious crevasses were forming.
She also allowed us to step over a deep moulin where, a day or two earlier, she had lost an ice axe. The handle was still visible a few feet down.
The ice scenery was something special to witness. Probably more so because the melting was so significant under the sunny sky this day. This was a privilege that won’t likely be available to future generations.
In 2024, walking on a glacier that is in the process of disappearing before our eyes is a unique experience. I’m really grateful to have had the opportunity.
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Another World
Two things: I’ve described the intense, stiff wind and mentioned our luck with the weather, which applies pretty much to the entirety of our visit to Iceland. The wind was strong enough when we climbed down out of that giant bus at the location of their floating dock, one of the zodiac boats full of tourists returning from the previous cruise had difficulty landing.
The driver needed to come around for a second attempt. In the moment, it didn’t give me pause about what “too much” wind for such outings might look like.
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In an instant, we were on board and speeding away toward the glacier “finger,” bouncing along on the swells the way zodiac boats do.
Suddenly, I realized it was no longer windy. We had been transported to another world that bore little resemblance to our previous vantage point.
I’m uncertain if I remember correctly, but I vaguely recall hearing the distance from the mouth of the lagoon to the edge of the glacier was about 5km. Our guide was quick to provide conversions, so the five could have been miles.
It didn’t matter. It seemed like we must have gone a hundred miles.
Without wind, the blazing sunlight warmed things considerably and rewarded us with sightings of many sunbathing seals. The overly cute aquatic mammals love the lagoon because there is a broad selection of fish to eat and no predators to worry about. Makes for a perfect recipe for photo-happy tourists.
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Our guide described the limitations of getting closer to the icebergs since they are larger beneath the surface and can roll over unexpectedly. I asked about his familiarity with the lagoon, and he pointed out it is never the same twice. Icebergs appear and disappear constantly.
While we were idling as the guide took photos of each group, a significant mass calved away and splashed into the water. It is such a bittersweet experience. I never imagined I would witness this massive power of nature firsthand, but it was such an exclamation of how dramatically this glacier –all glaciers– is/are melting.
When the wave from the calving reached the flow in the picture on the right above, the ice broke into many pieces, and the seal slid out of sight into the water like this happens all the time. It was mesmerizing to have this all occur right before our eyes.
Our guide kept moving our boat around to provide additional spectacular views. Suddenly, he stopped and bent over the side of the boat and popped up with a chunk of the glacier for us to see and hold.
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We learned about the coloring of ice and how the different bands (wavelengths) of the rainbow contained in sunlight are absorbed or reflected based on the amount of air in the ice. That chunk has had all the air compressed out of it.
The return leg of the trip back to the dock brought us back to bouncing on high waves and wrenched us out of that dream world. This was only our second day, and we had probably just experienced one of the most fantastic adventures of a lifetime.
Spending that time close to icebergs in that lagoon was truly out of this world for me.
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Glacier Lagoon
First, let me say this about coughing with congested lungs. When mucus in the airway triggers a cough that clears said airway, the feeling is truly gratifying. When the same thing happens, and coughing can’t improve the endless degree of congestion, it gets really demoralizing.
At least the antibiotics appear to be winning the battle over the infection.
When plans were being laid for our visit to Iceland, the four of us agreed on a level of adventure that suited us. We passed on snorkeling the seam of tectonic plates, exploring caves, whale watching on the high seas, or donning helmets and roping in to learn ice climbing skills.
We did decide to take a little tour around icebergs on a zodiac boat. I’m not much of a boat guy, but I figured it was an adventure I could handle. The reward was greater than I imagined.
Pulling into the parking area of the JÖKULSÁRLÓN GLACIER LAGOON, a finger of the Vatnajökull Glacier (if I have my facts straight) after a 2-hour drive on a mostly sunny day, we found the views immediately invigorating.
I had never stood this close to giant icebergs. Awe-inspiring, to say the least. We were greeted by a stiff wind that whizzed the cold from all the ice past our bodies, doubling our stiffness.
Just wandering along the shore and ogling the fascinating ice flows with the actual finger of the glacier miles away in the background would have been satisfying enough for me.
Little pieces of perfectly clear ice chunks bobbed along the shore, giving us less incentive to check out Diamond Beach, where the tide can deposit the sparkling beauties on the black sand. Those results aren’t guaranteed from day to day.
In a much-appreciated break from the wind, we retreated to our vehicle (holding the doors firmly) for a picnic lunch of sandwiches from our groceries. This became an exercise we mastered after repeated choices to eat out of the wind.
I can’t say enough about the industrious planning by Cyndie and Barb to bring an insulated bag for cold foods, additional bags for shopping, and the smarts to make wonderful selections in buying provisions. We ate superbly on our own.
As the hour arrived for our reservation on the zodiac boat adventure, we were issued fancy-looking suits that may or may not have bought us some minutes in the case of falling overboard. The floatation vest was added separately, on top.
We then boarded the massive bus-on-steroids for a short drive to the floating dock where they make quick transfers unloading previous passengers and immediately helping the next group aboard.
A quick survey by the guide reveals our group includes folks from Australia, the Netherlands, and Texas, in addition to us.
Our guide introduces himself as, “Ben” from France. The English language works relatively seamlessly for interactions but when folks are talking among themselves, I think we heard most languages of the developed world throughout our entire 10-day visit.
The adventure on the water was so spectacular, that it deserves a post all its own. Tomorrow…
I need more rest.
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Relative Something 