Hielo
Hielo is the Spanish word for ice.
Today I saw ice. Big ice. Really, really big. Ice.
Have you ever seen a glacier?
I never imagined there could be this much ice in once place. Really, words cannot describe how I felt looking at this gigantic mass of frozen water.
Walking down to the first viewing platform, I heard a mighty roar. This was followed by another ROOOOOOAAAAARRRRRR! I didn't see it, but something big fell into the water. This was to be a theme for most of the day. I'd hear it, but not see it. Or I'd only catch the waves where the ice had just fallen.
For two and a half hours I walked from platform to platform, gaining different views of the glacier. It never gets old. The turquoise blue. The strata of dirt which the ice picked up on it's journey.
Oh yeah. Did you know glaciers are on the move? This one moves several hundred meters a year. You'd never guess it while you're on the sucker, but it's sliding along a thin layer of water, which lies between it and the stone beneath.
With a far off view, and box lunch complete, it was time to get closer.
The bus took us down to a dock. The water, up close, looks like nonfat milk. I found out later that this is caused by all the minerals the glacier pushes into the water. It's constantly grinding the rock below it into powder, and dragging it to the lake. They call it glacier milk.
As the boat headed toward the glacier, I saw stuff floating in the water. Holy crap! Icebergs! Moments later there was a bumping sound coming from the hull of the ship. We were hitting huge chunks of ice!
We skirted big suckers like these, though. Whew.
As we neared the opposite shore, I started to get nervous. I was about to walk on a huge glacier. Images of that scene in Seven Years in Tibet were flashing through my head. You know, the scene where Henry slips on the ice and slides forever, finally catching and saving himself from a sure death... only to realize that a huge spike from his crampon had inserted itself several inches into his ankle. Yeah, that scene.
After a short hike, we reached some benches. Here we would be shod in our spikey crampons.
Ungainly on dirt, these things were incredible on the ice. I nave never felt so secure on ice in my life! I mean, you walk, they grip, no problem. It's a beautiful thing.
Man, if I thought the ice looked blue before... it was nothing compared to standing on top of it. Looking down into the crevasses all I could see was glowing blue. There were even crystal clear pools and streams of the cleanest, tastiest water you have ever seen.
I drank out of this one.
Sometimes we sould come across little holes in the ice, with bits of dirt at the bottom.
This phenomenon, called a cryoconite, appears when something dark sits on the ice. For example, our guide told us, dirt, rocks, sunglasses, human bodies... any of these things would create a cryoconite if left on the ice.
After trekking at a quick-ish pace for a while, our guide apologized. He said he was setting a fast pace for us becuase we all looked pretty fit. If we moved quickly he would be able to take us to some special places before our time was up.
When we arrived at one of these special places, our guide stopped. It was lecture time. No fumbling for cameras. No gawking around. It was time to concentrate on the trail, folks, because we were about to walk right next to a very deep crevasse. Needless to say, I don't have any pictures, but the thing was really deep.
Next up, there was a river spilling into a wide, deep hole in the ice. To show us how deep the hole was, our guide hacked a big chunk of ice off and let it fall. It fell... and fell... and fell... bouncing off the sides of the hole as it went before finally quietly splashing, a long way off.
Finally we descended into a valley to find this incredible place:
I knew places like this existed, but I never imagined I would walk right up to such a stunning site. I was speechless.
Too soon, it was time to turn back. On our way, though, we stopped for our reward for all our hard work, tromping around on the ice.
Scotch, on the rocks!
The ice was hacked from the glacier below our feet. The water, if you added some, was from a pool a few feet away. And the tumblers, when finished with, were cleaned with the same water.
Walking back down to the dock I was shocked to see a gigantic piece of the wall of ice before me come loose and crash into the water. Ho... ly... wow. Next was the huge RRRROOOOOAAAARRRRR I had heard so many times earlier in the day. This time I caught the visuals that precede the sound. And it was absolutely incredible.
And now, I am totally addicted. Heh, no... not to the scotch. The ice. ::sigh:: I want more. I found out later that I missed the better, longer ice trek by only a few days. This one is twice as long. But it starts when high season does... in October.
What I really want, though, is to head to El Chalten, near Fitz Roy. There, I could take a one-day ice climbing course. But that would be way, way too expensive.
Vlad always says it's best to leave a place wanting more from it. Well, no problem here. I want more ice.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Things to remember that didn't make it into the story:
-Water bubbling up from the ice in spots
-Ice-water-looking parts where it look sunsafe to walk. Perfectly stable.
-In 25 years, no more glaciers in Europe. (?!?!?)
-It was hot trekking around on the ice!
-Hearing rivers rushing below the ice I was walking on.
Leave a comment in my New Journal
Today I saw ice. Big ice. Really, really big. Ice.
Have you ever seen a glacier?
I never imagined there could be this much ice in once place. Really, words cannot describe how I felt looking at this gigantic mass of frozen water.
Walking down to the first viewing platform, I heard a mighty roar. This was followed by another ROOOOOOAAAAARRRRRR! I didn't see it, but something big fell into the water. This was to be a theme for most of the day. I'd hear it, but not see it. Or I'd only catch the waves where the ice had just fallen.
For two and a half hours I walked from platform to platform, gaining different views of the glacier. It never gets old. The turquoise blue. The strata of dirt which the ice picked up on it's journey.
Oh yeah. Did you know glaciers are on the move? This one moves several hundred meters a year. You'd never guess it while you're on the sucker, but it's sliding along a thin layer of water, which lies between it and the stone beneath.
With a far off view, and box lunch complete, it was time to get closer.
The bus took us down to a dock. The water, up close, looks like nonfat milk. I found out later that this is caused by all the minerals the glacier pushes into the water. It's constantly grinding the rock below it into powder, and dragging it to the lake. They call it glacier milk.
As the boat headed toward the glacier, I saw stuff floating in the water. Holy crap! Icebergs! Moments later there was a bumping sound coming from the hull of the ship. We were hitting huge chunks of ice!
We skirted big suckers like these, though. Whew.
As we neared the opposite shore, I started to get nervous. I was about to walk on a huge glacier. Images of that scene in Seven Years in Tibet were flashing through my head. You know, the scene where Henry slips on the ice and slides forever, finally catching and saving himself from a sure death... only to realize that a huge spike from his crampon had inserted itself several inches into his ankle. Yeah, that scene.
After a short hike, we reached some benches. Here we would be shod in our spikey crampons.
Ungainly on dirt, these things were incredible on the ice. I nave never felt so secure on ice in my life! I mean, you walk, they grip, no problem. It's a beautiful thing.
Man, if I thought the ice looked blue before... it was nothing compared to standing on top of it. Looking down into the crevasses all I could see was glowing blue. There were even crystal clear pools and streams of the cleanest, tastiest water you have ever seen.
I drank out of this one.
Sometimes we sould come across little holes in the ice, with bits of dirt at the bottom.
This phenomenon, called a cryoconite, appears when something dark sits on the ice. For example, our guide told us, dirt, rocks, sunglasses, human bodies... any of these things would create a cryoconite if left on the ice.
After trekking at a quick-ish pace for a while, our guide apologized. He said he was setting a fast pace for us becuase we all looked pretty fit. If we moved quickly he would be able to take us to some special places before our time was up.
When we arrived at one of these special places, our guide stopped. It was lecture time. No fumbling for cameras. No gawking around. It was time to concentrate on the trail, folks, because we were about to walk right next to a very deep crevasse. Needless to say, I don't have any pictures, but the thing was really deep.
Next up, there was a river spilling into a wide, deep hole in the ice. To show us how deep the hole was, our guide hacked a big chunk of ice off and let it fall. It fell... and fell... and fell... bouncing off the sides of the hole as it went before finally quietly splashing, a long way off.
Finally we descended into a valley to find this incredible place:
I knew places like this existed, but I never imagined I would walk right up to such a stunning site. I was speechless.
Too soon, it was time to turn back. On our way, though, we stopped for our reward for all our hard work, tromping around on the ice.
Scotch, on the rocks!
The ice was hacked from the glacier below our feet. The water, if you added some, was from a pool a few feet away. And the tumblers, when finished with, were cleaned with the same water.
Walking back down to the dock I was shocked to see a gigantic piece of the wall of ice before me come loose and crash into the water. Ho... ly... wow. Next was the huge RRRROOOOOAAAARRRRR I had heard so many times earlier in the day. This time I caught the visuals that precede the sound. And it was absolutely incredible.
And now, I am totally addicted. Heh, no... not to the scotch. The ice. ::sigh:: I want more. I found out later that I missed the better, longer ice trek by only a few days. This one is twice as long. But it starts when high season does... in October.
What I really want, though, is to head to El Chalten, near Fitz Roy. There, I could take a one-day ice climbing course. But that would be way, way too expensive.
Vlad always says it's best to leave a place wanting more from it. Well, no problem here. I want more ice.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Things to remember that didn't make it into the story:
-Water bubbling up from the ice in spots
-Ice-water-looking parts where it look sunsafe to walk. Perfectly stable.
-In 25 years, no more glaciers in Europe. (?!?!?)
-It was hot trekking around on the ice!
-Hearing rivers rushing below the ice I was walking on.
Leave a comment in my New Journal