Glacier Bay National Park
Life returns to Glacier Bay, on scales of millennia, centuries, and the annual cycle of life.
MILLENIA: During the cold glacial episodes of the Pleistocene Era, glaciers covered southern Alaska and, indeed, much of the Northern Hemisphere. The movement of the ice, from mountains to sea, carved out the landscape that we now see. Then, some 12,000 years ago, the Continental glaciers left as we entered the current warm interglacial episode.
CENTURIES: Even after the end of the last glacial episode, the ice has advanced and retreated. The most recent advance corresponds with the Little Ice Age, when medieval Europe was gripped by cold. There was no Glacier Bay, because the glaciers once again filled the valleys, and the Tlingit People left their homeland to seek refuge to the south, across Icy Strait. In 1778 Captain James Cook encountered a wall of ice facing Icy Strait. And then the glaciers retreated once again, this time at great speed. Within a span of 250 years they retreated 65 miles. As the ice departed vegetation returned: alders, cottonwoods, and spruce, in the process that we call ecological succession.
ANNUAL: To the great relief of Alaskans, winter has lost its grip on the landscape. Leaves have appeared on the deciduous trees and shrubs. Migratory birds have returned to breed. Bears have abandoned their winter sleep to forage along the shoreline, and mountain goats are now accompanied by frisky kids clinging to impossibly steep slopes. All of these contributed to our amazing day in Glacier Bay National Park.
We left Park Headquarters at Bartlett Cove early in the morning in brilliant, clear weather. Mount Fairweather, at 15,300 feet, was visible, and so it remained all day. The Fairweather Range is, in a sense, the Mother of Glacier Bay. The tall mountains trap moisture coming from the Pacific; it falls as snow, accumulates as ice, and fuels the glaciers of Glacier Bay.
Out first stop at South Marble Island was focused on Steller’s sea lions lounging on the rocks belching and roaring, and on the tufted puffins, kittiwakes, oystercatchers, and the other birds that nest there.
Continuing up Bay, we scanned the slopes above for mountain goats, and the beaches for bears. We found them. One female goat led her kid down the slope towards us, accompanied be fearful gasps as her hooves dislodged small rocks. We found first one and later three brown bears pursuing their Spring diet of tender young vegetation and intertidal life, an ursine seafood salad.
We continued on to the Margerie and the Grand Pacific Glaciers at the head of Tarr Inlet. There we waited quietly and watched the glacier face, hoping the tidewater glacier would disgorge a load of ice into the silty water below. It did just that - not a lot, but enough to gently rock our ship with the wave created by the calving of ice. Returning down Bay, we turned into Geike Inlet for a look around. There we counted one, two, three, four, and a then fifth black bear. The final bear seemed to have a silver tint to its fur, which elicited active and still unresolved discussion among our Naturalists and Linda, our National Park Service Ranger, hoping it was the silver-blue glacier bear morph of the black bear.
And so we returned to Park Headquarters, with time for a much-appreciated leg stretching walk through the forest, not soon to forget our day in Glacier Bay.
Life returns to Glacier Bay, on scales of millennia, centuries, and the annual cycle of life.
MILLENIA: During the cold glacial episodes of the Pleistocene Era, glaciers covered southern Alaska and, indeed, much of the Northern Hemisphere. The movement of the ice, from mountains to sea, carved out the landscape that we now see. Then, some 12,000 years ago, the Continental glaciers left as we entered the current warm interglacial episode.
CENTURIES: Even after the end of the last glacial episode, the ice has advanced and retreated. The most recent advance corresponds with the Little Ice Age, when medieval Europe was gripped by cold. There was no Glacier Bay, because the glaciers once again filled the valleys, and the Tlingit People left their homeland to seek refuge to the south, across Icy Strait. In 1778 Captain James Cook encountered a wall of ice facing Icy Strait. And then the glaciers retreated once again, this time at great speed. Within a span of 250 years they retreated 65 miles. As the ice departed vegetation returned: alders, cottonwoods, and spruce, in the process that we call ecological succession.
ANNUAL: To the great relief of Alaskans, winter has lost its grip on the landscape. Leaves have appeared on the deciduous trees and shrubs. Migratory birds have returned to breed. Bears have abandoned their winter sleep to forage along the shoreline, and mountain goats are now accompanied by frisky kids clinging to impossibly steep slopes. All of these contributed to our amazing day in Glacier Bay National Park.
We left Park Headquarters at Bartlett Cove early in the morning in brilliant, clear weather. Mount Fairweather, at 15,300 feet, was visible, and so it remained all day. The Fairweather Range is, in a sense, the Mother of Glacier Bay. The tall mountains trap moisture coming from the Pacific; it falls as snow, accumulates as ice, and fuels the glaciers of Glacier Bay.
Out first stop at South Marble Island was focused on Steller’s sea lions lounging on the rocks belching and roaring, and on the tufted puffins, kittiwakes, oystercatchers, and the other birds that nest there.
Continuing up Bay, we scanned the slopes above for mountain goats, and the beaches for bears. We found them. One female goat led her kid down the slope towards us, accompanied be fearful gasps as her hooves dislodged small rocks. We found first one and later three brown bears pursuing their Spring diet of tender young vegetation and intertidal life, an ursine seafood salad.
We continued on to the Margerie and the Grand Pacific Glaciers at the head of Tarr Inlet. There we waited quietly and watched the glacier face, hoping the tidewater glacier would disgorge a load of ice into the silty water below. It did just that - not a lot, but enough to gently rock our ship with the wave created by the calving of ice. Returning down Bay, we turned into Geike Inlet for a look around. There we counted one, two, three, four, and a then fifth black bear. The final bear seemed to have a silver tint to its fur, which elicited active and still unresolved discussion among our Naturalists and Linda, our National Park Service Ranger, hoping it was the silver-blue glacier bear morph of the black bear.
And so we returned to Park Headquarters, with time for a much-appreciated leg stretching walk through the forest, not soon to forget our day in Glacier Bay.
