Scratching The Itch

I think today was the best day of the trip. We went to visit Parque Nacional de Los Glaciares for a peek of the Perito Moreno Glacier. The park consists of these nice, modern, bridge-like walkways that line the mountain slope directly across from the river and the glacier; quite impressive. These bridges have lookout points and balconies, so no matter where you are, you’re gong to get an amazing view that’s different from the last platform you were standing on. The walkways allow you to go down and stare at the glacier from below, right near the water, or admire the glacier from a few hundred feet higher.

My first view of the glacier, a few hundred feet up. 

This glacier is 2.48 miles wide, 19 miles long, and is about 240 feet high. Its size is mind-blowing. I loved being there; the air was brisk but absolutely invigorating.

It was so peaceful, except for the snap-crackle-pop sound of the tops of faraway ice towers breaking off in the distance and crashing down below into a deep ice crevasse. The glacier is about 5,000 years old and when snow falls on it, the snow takes about 300 years to reach the front and fall into the water.

The glacier is free entertainment, brought to you by nature. We sat there glued to the glacier all afternoon. I didn’t want to look away, for fear of missing the next giant chunk of ice breaking off and splashing in the greyish-blue water below.

On one instance, e sheet of ice that was few hundred feet wide broke off all at one and left this giant, gaping hole in the face of the glacier. You could easily tell where the stark white ice met the new, freshly exposed ice. It broke off so many layers that the ice below was a glowing color of blue.

Can you see the difference?

Jenny and I happened to have a front-row seats when the best iceberg fell.  It was the section directly in front of us. Little by little, chunks were falling away, and every time one fell we thought for sure that the biggest chunk had fallen. The falling chunks created gigantic splashes that caused the water to surge out from the glacier towards us. There was so much mist in the air, I could make out a faint rainbow. We squealed like little kids every time an iceberg fell. The biggest crash made me feel a little uneasy, as I was unsure of just how big the waves were going to be. For a split-second, I wondered if we would be splashed, or at the worst, swallowed by the reactionary wave. After the last bit fell, you could see giant hunks of crystal blue ice bobbing to and fro down the river.

Floating on cloud nine is the best way to describe an experience like today. Sergio, the talkative park ranger, told me that watching the glacier everyday is as unpredictable as being with a woman because “they tend to change every day”. He said some days the glacier is really quiet, and sometimes it was very active. Like women, he said, the glacier is “a thing of mystery”. 

More glacier pics:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/jyeats/sets/72157626071675353