"...As we crested a rocky saddle, we began to descend into what felt like a different planet.
We were in a cloud, but not like when you’re staring from the window of an airplane and they're so fluffy that you wish you could nap cradled in them like a Care Bear. No, this was a soupy, dense cloud, that seemed to weigh on us, adding to the heaviness of my legs and feet after the ascent. This precipice of our hike felt like true discovery, the kind of exploratory anticipation you felt as a child finding adventure in a cemetery or in an unassuming tree stand. We could hardly see past 10 yards, but the neon blue of the water reflecting off the micro droplets comprising the cloud made the air glow…amplifying the eerie quality of that dead-quiet, magical place.
Following the guidance of some rock-cairns, we scrambled down to the edge of a glacial lake, or pond, couldn’t be sure with our limited range of vision. We marveled at icebergs in shapes you could not imagine; and I know we saw the edge of Grinnell Glacier.... Even if my eyes deceived me in that extra-terrestrial-like landscape, if that wasn’t the edge of prehistoric ice that we sat squinting at, I still felt it’s presence. I know it was there - it was emanating; in that still, silent air, I could feel its icy-blue breath. We sat next to the water, took out a flask and toasted to old Grinnell:
"To you, glacier, we thank you for your invaluable contribution to this landscape and this ecosystem, for carving and shaping the land upon which we sit, for the thousands of years which your melt has nursed foliage, and provided sustenance and home for miles, and though we are sad that you are shrinking and that our children’s children will never see you in your glacier-like glory, we are so grateful for all that you have given to this world and rejoice in that your memory and presence will live on forever - we drink to you”
And with that we lifted the freezing flask of whiskey to our lips. We sat, laughed, ate cheese and crackers and as the lateness of the day started to make its way into our bones and we could no longer take the chill of rock, air and ice, we started our way back down the trail, out of our Rivendale, and back to reality."