Photography and Photo Tours: Specializing in Alaska's Wild Lands & Wild Life
Wow, what a Saturday! Tim and I spent the day out on the Matanuska Glacier with two other novice ice climbers (Mike and Nichole – both of the US Army). Our guide, also named Mike, was from MICA Guides. Thatsa lotta Mik-a’s (said with very poor Italian accent). We met at MICA’s headquarters above the glacier just after 9 am. After meeting our fellow climbers and guide, we geared up and drove out to the glacial terminus. For me, Matanuska Glacier has always been a special and awe-inspiring place. This is not just a river of ice, it is the mover of mountains, a carver of deep valleys, a shaper… in this land of extremes.
We hiked over the glacial silt covered landscape for a while, then put on our crampons once we reached the ice. Our guide led us on a hike towards an ice fall, one that I had hiked around a few times before… but never into. The icefall is always new, constantly evolving. As the glacier scrapes over a hidden cliff, the ice fractures into huge seracs, tumbling several hundred feet back onto itself and forming deep crevasses. Along the way, we passed deep moulins – vertical drainages tunnels reaching into the depths of the glacier, and melt pools – small ponds of crystal blue water, a color unmatched in nature.
Once we arrived at the base of the icefall, our guide free climbed a section of the wall and set to work affixing ice screws and anchors for our first ascent – he called it a descent warm up. I instantly wondered what I had gotten myself into. Where Tim has apparently no fear of heights or trusting equipment such as ropes, carabiners, and ice screws – I have no such fearlessness. For several years now, I have developed a keen fear heights… and falling. Today would test me as none before. When Mike asked who would like to make the first climb of the group, I decided that it would be better to man up, get it over with, and (Nike willing) just do it… so I went last. I watched the other 3 climbers ascend and descend with relative ease. Then it was my turn, Mike secured me to the safety rope (with which I would use to rappel from the top of the ice wall), then I began my climb. My plan was to ascend as rapidly as possible and not dwell at height. I climbed fast, but soon realized that I was enjoying myself. The rhythmic succession of kicking your crampon-clad toes into the ice, the crunch of each ice axe striking deep into the wall – it calmed me. I rappelled down from the top of the climb, sixty feet or so, actually catching myself looking down at what I had risen above.
We regrouped and hiked parallel to the icefall, gaining altitude steadily. We reached the next climbing section, a nearly vertical wall rising above several crevasses. Again, Mike scouted a way around and set up our climbing rigs so the rest of us could scale the wall. I again went last, but with much less trepidation this time. Again I climbed quickly, but with even greater enjoyment. It no longer seemed quite so unnatural to be perched on a wall of ice, with nothing but air beneath. Once we all summited the climb, we rested while Mike set up the anchors and ropes once again. This time we would rappel down into a nearby crevasse, nearly one-hundred feet down, some of which was beyond vertical. Tim and I were treated with a second anchor point and rope that would allow us to hang over the edge of the precipice to photograph the others as they dropped over the side and as they climbed back up again. I laid on my belly with my shoulders and head hanging over the cliff as Tim and the other Mike descended and climbed back out of the crevasse, one at a time. It was a thrill to shoot. Then, once again, it was my turn. There is one thing that scares me more than climbing and heights, its backing over the edge of a cliff into nothingness. But with our guide and my fellow climbers offering their support, over I went. I rappelled down, paused for a moment to gaze into the blue depths of the crevasse that now surrounded me, then began my climb out. I was quickly winded, working against a section of wall that was beyond vertical. It was amazingly difficult work and I stopped often to catch my breath and regain some strength, my sunglasses fogging with every exhale. It seemed to take an eternity, but I finally swung my arms over the top of the climb. At that point, I found it nearly impossible to continue to grip the ice axe in my left hand – my forearm and hand so fatigued. I actually swung my left arm several times, trying to strike the ice with an axe that was no longer in my hand, I was that fatigued. Somehow, I gathered what strength I had left, and pulled myself up and over the edge. I lay there for a while, too exhausted to move and too drained to stand.
The others went on to do another climb nearby, but I was content to photograph them. I didn’t have anything left in me. I knew I could rappel down, but I was sure I wouldn’t be able to climb back out again. This was a dream day, I can’t say that I conquered my fear of heights… but I did give it a swift kick in the teeth. An amazing experience. MICA Guides was excellent, our guide Mike was superb. Very professional and knowledgeable, and inspired us to conquer our fears. He also kept things lighthearted and extremely enjoyable. I highly recommend joining MICA Guides next time you are looking for a true adventure. They run an awesome service with highly trained guides. Sixtyone North (that’s us) will be working with MICA in the future to offer custom photography tours on Matanuska Glacier – it’s a partnership that we are really looking forward to.
All images are available for purchase. Please contact me if you are interested in ordering a print or purchasing image rights for reproduction. All images & text are protected under international copyright law. Any unauthorized use of copyrighted material will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.
Design by Graph Paper Press. All content © 2010 by Sixtyone North
Your blog is interesting!
Keep up the good work!