We had to cross several streams, a marsh, and the shallow end of a lake to get to the rocky gulley leading to the glacier. This was one such crossing.
The beautiful lake we skirted around the edge of.
This and several other eagles circled overhead as we made our way towards the glacier, perhaps waiting for us to die.
A very lush Portage Valley forest grew straight out of the glacial wash. Very otherworldly, like out of a Tolkien book.
The glacier came into view as we followed its rocky drainage stream.
We crossed the boulder-strewn stream about a jillion times, which made the trip more interesting and enjoyable.
There was a tiny bit of scrambling in the canyon right under the glacier.
Before long, we reached the glacier.
Dick getting his hump on.
Slow motion for me! (about three feet a year...now that's slow motion!)
I can just imagine the epitaph now: "Dumbass hoist by own petard"
An immense flock of birds heading south for the winter.
We easily accessed the glacier itself via its western edge
The best drinking water is aged 20,000 years.
The glacier was relatively tame for quite a ways, so we wandered around for awhile.
A panorama of the glacier looking SE towards Byron Peak.
A funky-looking bergshrund on the western edge of the glacier
Walking over a small arch carved in the ice by meltwater.
No glacier trek is complete without an obligatory beer-chug.
One of many small but deep crevasses snaking its way across the glacier
Crevasse-jumping is fun