We slipped into Endicott Arm at around 4:30 in the morning. Mist curled from hanging valleys on either side of us before pooling on the fjord. It gathered so completely that the shoreline dissolved and the mountains seemed to float.
As the fjord narrowed, more and more people found their way onto the bow—sleepy, bundled, hot beverages in hand. We kept loose rotations at the front railing, either out of kindness or relief from windchill. Probably both.
The cliffs bore the ribbons left by glaciers, waterfalls reaching into brilliant turquoise water. Ancient ice drifted past. By the time the sun reached Dawes Glacier, the fjord had already stolen most of my attention...or maybe I was just exhausted. I only made 2 photos of the glacier itself.
My day continued exactly as good vacation days should: a nap, three bloody marys, good company, and a litany of beverages.
We rode the White Pass & Yukon Route, nearly filling an entire train car with our party. Between trees I watched yawning chasms, the footprints of glaciers falling from our tracks. Above us peaks played in fog and cloud.
I spent most of the time leaning over the railing, trying to watch my head and the scenery at the same time. My people in the car would relay info from the tour guide’s announcements “Inspiration Point is coming up on the left,” “There’s a clearing ahead—you’ll see an old bridge high above.”
We flew into unlit tunnels where we traded sight for diesel fumes and a moment of warmth before shooting back out into frigid peaks.
The sign above the gangway door read “MIND YOUR HEAD,” and it made me think of Kipling’s poem If—, which begins “If you can keep your head when all about you are losing theirs and blaming it on you…”
But I’ve always loved the lines later in the poem: “If you can dream—and not make dreams your master; If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim…”
A good reminder, whether returning to a ship or navigating all the rest.
