My little excursion group, which included Ranger Jenny, had motored over in the skiff past the face of the glacier, dodging 200-year old chunks of ice to land on a wet, rocky shore. Leaving our rubber boots behind, we’d climbed up a steep dark rocky ridge dotted with purple lupins.
“Alaska has the power to really make you feel small,” our guide Marika said as we stared across the wide blue bay at the mountains in the distance.
No kidding. My iPhone camera just couldn’t do it justice. Richard, who had our good camera, had chosen not to go on this hike. Which was a good call for a person afraid of edges. And no use messing up those two new knees.
I wasn’t sure I’d wanted to go on this hike either. Beth, our activities director, had made it sound very treacherous. “It’s rocky and steep, and you may have to slide down on your butt,” she’d told our group the night before. “You should be in good shape to do this hike. And, if you’re afraid of edges or heights, it’s not for you.”
It was challenging for a Sunday hiker like me. But I power walk almost every day at home and play competitive tennis. I managed just fine.
