Blue Ice

We're driving down the road with snow capped mountains on one side and gray angry ocean on the other making our way to the blue iced glacier. The wind is blowing so the waves are high and crashing into one another. It is raining so the greens of mountains bow in their wetness. Water sheets down the rocks and waterfalls gush down.

Staring out of the back seat window I see a bald Eagle flying beside us carrying a large fish in his claws. Jim slams on the brakes because the cars in front of us see it too. The Eagle turns into the Mountains and disappears. Traffic moves again.

We turn into one of Alaska's few roads into the Mountains. The woods are thick and the few houses are hidden. I've learned that most of Alaska's housing is substandard and really not designed for winter. That seems odd doesn't it? But construction here only takes place in the summer which is about two to three months of cooperative weather. So every construction project in the state takes place at the exact same time and it's a race to see what gets finished.

The stunning beauty of the mountains, forest, ocean and glaciers are in stark contrast to the ugliness of Anchorage. Low and flat the city is mostly miles of strip malls. Many of the side roads are unpaved so the constant rain has turned them into muddy messes. Potholes are everywhere. There are strip clubs, chain after chain of restaurants and car dealerships. There is a surprising low number of vehicles with four-wheel drive. Everything is ridiculously expensive.

The day had been spent at "Homeward Bound" a primary social service center in Anchorage. There are a large number of homeless camps littered around. In the winter they build snow caves to stay warm. Of course several die every year and frost bite is rabid. We're trying to help them add a medical component so that care is given in the camps on a regular basis. There is much enthusiasm for the concept.

Now it is late afternoon and the famous Dr. Jim Withers has kidnapped Linda Sheets and me because he wants to go the mountains. "There's plenty of time," he happily explains, "it doesn't get dark until 11 tonight."

At the bottom of the glacier I stare at the massive sheet of blue ice. The green of the trees beside it make it more pronounced. A purple cloud covers the top. Wiping the drizzling rain from my face, we return to the car and make our way back to the city. We're all tired as out body's are still on East Coast time so we laugh and make tired jokes. The rain grows heavy again.

In the hotel room I sip a glass of wine and call home where it is nearly ten o'clock. We have a dinner meeting in an hour. From my window the ugliness of Anchorage is spread below me and the beauty of the mountains parade in the distance. I think, "we're really trying to move mountains over here."

It's been done before.

We'll do it again.