The glaciers--part 2

This was not on my bucket list--but it should have been.


When I embarked on this trip I had a list that started with:
  Live and travel in an RV for two years (next Saturday is my 2nd anniversary of Sailing Down the
Road.)


There were a lot of things on that list, like 'ride a Segway', find my father's family (Thank you, Dean), eat breakfast on the beach in Key West, and many more things.  But 'Walk on a Glacier'--I never even thought about it.

Athabasca Glacier, and Ron, changed my mind.   If you look very closely at the picture above you will just see two black dots on top of the ice--those are very large transport vehicles.

This photo was taken in 1919 when the Glacier extended all the way across where the road is now.

The Athabasca Glacier is monumental in scale and the view from here seems timeless.  However, the glacier is actually very dynamic, as you can see when you compare the 1919 photo to the view today.  Since 1844, when the Athabasca Glacier reached its maximum, the edge of the ice has retreated more than 1.5 kilometers (nearly 1 mile).

In 1844 the Athabasca Glacier covered the entire area where the parking lot is today.  This terminal moraine (the large gravel pile next to the road) was formed by the glacier when it paused here before it began to shrink to its current location.   


That retreat continues today as warmer local temperatures melt more ice each summer than is replaced by winter snow accumulation on the Columbia Icefield above.  

Ron convinced me that we needed to take one of those transports out on to the ice.

So, while we waited for our ride we played tourist and took a few pictures....

And made a few friends.

The Icefields own all but one of these mega-transports.  Note the size of the tire next to the person boarding the bus.

As we started toward the ice field the driver explained that these buses are built exclusively for the Icefields.  Only one other is in use anywhere-- it's in an open-pit mine in Montana (I think).

An important feature of this transport is that it can ascend--and descend--along a grade of over 30%.  I have driven on a grade of 11% and it scared the sass out of me...

Just note the transports that are at the bottom.


As we neared the bottom I began to see the amazing blue ice.  The driver explained that we would be driving onto ice that is deeper than the Eiffel Tower is high.  

"Could we fall through?"
"Well," he explained, "Fissures do open up--especially with the melting that is now occurring.  But we check it constantly to make sure no one is near a weak spot." I'm not sure that made me feel any safer.


Ron filled our water bottles with melt from ice that was from 100,000 to 10,000 years old.  The water was delicious.


Can I keep it for a souvenir?


I did not expect it to be so cold--Duh! You are standing on ice!



  The blueness makes the ice feel as though it is fragile even though you are looking into its amazing depths.


It is also pretty slick.


Next time I am wearing rubber sole shoes and a sweater.


Ice forms when snowflakes are compacted into icy granules.  The process is called 'firnification' and grainy ice is called 'firn'.  When about 130' of ice piles up, the bottom layer starts to move and slide downhill, at which point a glacier is born!


A ranger told us that, "Yes, the glaciers are melting...


...and it won't be many years before they will be gone."

(Jerry and Cherie, and Hattie, and Dean and Amanda, and anyone else out there who's contemplating a road trip...don't miss this. I am so glad my son urged me to make this trip, now I'm urging you.)