Glacier Bay National Park
Autumn typically starts to descend on these northern latitudes in August. Over the course of the month, day length shortens by a full four hours, at an average rate of six minutes per day. Plants begin to concentrate sugars they’ve produced over the summer in their roots, cutting off nutrient flow to their leaves so they turn various shades of gold and red. Some residents, like brown bears, enter a period of hyperphagia, eating as much as possible to lay on fat stores that will nourish them through their winter sleep. Others, like wolves, simply feast now on the abundant salmon, in preparation for the lean winter hunting season. Many birds begin their southward migration, heading for warmer climes and reliable winter feeding grounds.
We spent this last day of August in the wilds of Glacier Bay National Park, feasting our senses on its grand vistas and abundant wildlife. We awoke this morning just a quarter mile from the towering face of Johns Hopkins glacier, and witnessed several large calving events before breakfast. Shortly after breakfast, we paused in front of the “Blue Lamplugh” glacier, before continuing on to the uppermost reaches of the bay and the faces of both Margerie and Grand Pacific glaciers. Today, the Grand Pacific has receded almost beyond tidewater, but just 200 years ago it filled the majority of the west arm of Glacier Bay. We marveled at the raw power of ice to scrape away all vegetation and carve rock, more patient than the finest sculptor.
Our wildlife sightings today were amazing. After vainly trying to photograph several tufted puffins whizzing by the bow, we found a group of six (!) horned puffins and a dozen tufted puffins sitting together on the water. Later, we watched a young brown bear sow with her two older cubs, foraging in the intertidal zone for small fish and crustaceans, giving us a perfect demonstration of the Native Tlingit saying “when the tide is out, the table is set”. A lone mountain goat sat high on Gloomy Knob, while large rafts of surf scoters dove for mussels in the water below. The high point of the day for many of us was the sight of four young black wolves loping along the beach. The ammonia scent of decaying salmon in a nearby stream led us to imagine that these wolves had either just finished, or were about begin, a salmon feast. Of course, at this time of year, it could have been both! Later in the afternoon many of us got distant looks at a black bear strolling through the high grass above the very high tide line, and then watched two sea otters devouring a fishy meal.
In little more than a week, as autumn truly descends on the Inside Passage, the Sea Lion will begin her southward migration, bound for warmer climes and other adventures. This is the perfect time to reflect on the richness of this temperate rainforest, and the abundance of summer in Southeast Alaska.
Autumn typically starts to descend on these northern latitudes in August. Over the course of the month, day length shortens by a full four hours, at an average rate of six minutes per day. Plants begin to concentrate sugars they’ve produced over the summer in their roots, cutting off nutrient flow to their leaves so they turn various shades of gold and red. Some residents, like brown bears, enter a period of hyperphagia, eating as much as possible to lay on fat stores that will nourish them through their winter sleep. Others, like wolves, simply feast now on the abundant salmon, in preparation for the lean winter hunting season. Many birds begin their southward migration, heading for warmer climes and reliable winter feeding grounds.
We spent this last day of August in the wilds of Glacier Bay National Park, feasting our senses on its grand vistas and abundant wildlife. We awoke this morning just a quarter mile from the towering face of Johns Hopkins glacier, and witnessed several large calving events before breakfast. Shortly after breakfast, we paused in front of the “Blue Lamplugh” glacier, before continuing on to the uppermost reaches of the bay and the faces of both Margerie and Grand Pacific glaciers. Today, the Grand Pacific has receded almost beyond tidewater, but just 200 years ago it filled the majority of the west arm of Glacier Bay. We marveled at the raw power of ice to scrape away all vegetation and carve rock, more patient than the finest sculptor.
Our wildlife sightings today were amazing. After vainly trying to photograph several tufted puffins whizzing by the bow, we found a group of six (!) horned puffins and a dozen tufted puffins sitting together on the water. Later, we watched a young brown bear sow with her two older cubs, foraging in the intertidal zone for small fish and crustaceans, giving us a perfect demonstration of the Native Tlingit saying “when the tide is out, the table is set”. A lone mountain goat sat high on Gloomy Knob, while large rafts of surf scoters dove for mussels in the water below. The high point of the day for many of us was the sight of four young black wolves loping along the beach. The ammonia scent of decaying salmon in a nearby stream led us to imagine that these wolves had either just finished, or were about begin, a salmon feast. Of course, at this time of year, it could have been both! Later in the afternoon many of us got distant looks at a black bear strolling through the high grass above the very high tide line, and then watched two sea otters devouring a fishy meal.
In little more than a week, as autumn truly descends on the Inside Passage, the Sea Lion will begin her southward migration, bound for warmer climes and other adventures. This is the perfect time to reflect on the richness of this temperate rainforest, and the abundance of summer in Southeast Alaska.
