Its the summer of 1998.
Today it is hot and bright. It is 80 degrees going on Mojave the whole week I am alone, except for the final snowy morning my socks freeze like daggers to the laundry cord. My skin turns bright red and I carefully inspect by looking into the blurry lid of my cooking pot. I dutifully measure the lake level in this trapped lake of the Illicillawaet Glacier every morning, noon, and night. The only thru-hiker will be a fury grizzly man whose yellows teeth make me feel even younger. I smile and pretend to be a lumberjack. Puffing my arms out to defeat him should he gnash his stained fangs.
Soon my supplies dwindle and I am low on food and saline solution. That night a beautiful bird helicopter drops me my dreamed of supplies... sadly there is no saline, no food, only some hot chocolate and some rum. Did I miscommunicate??? I feel resigned, having a dinner of kidney beans, laughing more than crying because I am 19 and baffled. It's so beautiful I want to stay forever, journaling my surroundings, becoming one with this melting sad glacier.... and with only booze, one journal, and scratchy contacts I suspect my stay will have to end soon. It is in this sunset that I take a deep breathe, lasting well beyond my hike out.
Illicillawaet picture from: (this most resembles the glacier as I remember it in 1998) www.ljplus.ru/img2/pycaky/Illecillewaet-Glacier,-British-Columbia,-Canada.jpg
