In 2011, my friend Dave, who was going through a tough time, needed to get his mind off of things and proposed that we make a film. I knew someone who was going to Alaska to live and be a wilderness guide near a glacier for the summer. That seemed crazy and amazing, so I emailed her to ask about her plans. She wrote back one of those emails that you dream about opening...
—
The story of the glaciers....
Humans want to find a way to connect with something so huge, persistent, enduring. It's not like a lake or a dog or a bike where we can easily ascribe human characteristics to them...
our language seems to fail when it comes to things like glaciers, astronomy, geologic processes, other natural phenomenon. and to put words to it sometimes feels contrived. But the story of the glacier is that it is an extremely dynamic moving force, on a scale that humans are reflecting on more and more. the stairway icefall is one of the biggest in the world. "biggest in the world" doesn't portray the scope of tons of ice, millions of years, and millions of gallons of fresh water in moving form. but "biggest in the world" is the language we use because it does as much justice as possible. google that shit. Stairway icefall. Hidden lake, iceberg lake, and the hydraulics of a temperate glacier put the idea of water carving through canyons of stone in fast forward. the surface of the glacier is a mystery, and literally every time I step onto the ice I see something new or different. the creaks, groans, cracks, caves, moulins, and crevasses all lend small hints into the ice. so...The story of the glacier is also the sense of adventure and activity that humans can have with it. I would remiss if I didn't mention how good it feels to explore the pristine wilderness and the challenge of navigating the canyons, blue pools, hills, and terrain of a glacier that looked practically flat from the air. they are truly enigmatic. there's a lot to it. If you wanna talk glaciology I can go there too, but this is more of the emotional, interactive reflection I get from the glacier. the accumulation, formation, and movement of the glacier is a horse of an entirely different color.
—
THEN she said we should come visit her in McCarthy— a tiny town an 8 hour drive from Anchorage - at the end of a 60 mile dirt road.
SO WE WENT!
We returned the following summer and I came back a 3rd time as an artist-in-residence for the Wrangell Mountains Center.
We thought we wanted to tell the “story” of this place. What we learned was that McCarthy has a complicated past and an uncertain future. We knew that there was so much more to it — from the Ahtna natives to the encroaching National Park Service to the massacre and the cult leaders and the reality show and the massive melting glacier — this story keeps going. We came to McCarthy to connect with people and the wilderness. We found some drama and some magic and most of all, a deeper understanding of a place.
Rachel is right. How can you understand something as big as a glacier without being able to walk on one? Will we be the last generation to do so?
To the people who call McCarthy and Kennicott home — I hope you know how much I appreciate you letting us share this postcard from your home.
Check out the extended trailer below —
