Wrangell- St. Elias National Park
We finally made it down onto the Root Glacier itself. We didn't venture far, as there were crevasses to contend with. But I had been on glaciers before and knew where to draw the line on exploring.

It was impressive to be surrounded by such an enormous sea of ice, the giant waves flowing imperceptibly beneath our feet.
    We had been lucky so far with gorgeous summer weather, but the next day we awoke to rain. It wasn't hard or steady, but the clouds had obscured most of the mountains. Unsure what to do but unwilling to be confined to the tent, we hiked back into Kennicott. Once there we decided to take a ride up to Bonanza Ridge, and the Bonanza Mine. Randy, a large, chain-smoking, jack-of-all-trades, loaded us into his old Chevy Suburban and headed up the ridge along another old wagon trail. It was a kidney-punishing, bone-jarring carnival ride up 3000 feet in three miles. We were bouncing off the roof as we hit rocks and ruts, and trees continually raked both sides of the truck. Randy didn't seem to notice the punishment his truck was taking, and he casually pointed out some of the mining equipment along the way.    In a clearing below the top of the ridge, Randy let us out, a little dazed but having thoroughly enjoyed the ride. We continued on foot, hiking up another 1000 feet along a small trail towards the Bonanza Mine. We passed ghostly relics of earlier days, as a heavy mist fell and clouds swooped up the ridge, engulfing us. When we reached the mine, we were again impressed that the mine was still standing (although tenuously), given its precarious position just below the knife-edge of the ridge. Unfortunately, a cold hard rain began to fall, and we were forced to retreat the 4000 feet back down to the glacier and our camp.
    We hiked out to McCarthy the next day, a bit waterlogged and a bit tired, but none the worse for wear. What capped off our adventure were stops at the "Tailor-Made Pizza" parlor and the Bear's Den Saloon on our way out of town. It was a place we had grown very fond of - an uncrowded, unhurried frontier town where everyone was friendly. The people of McCarthy stand at the brink of major changes, of "civilization" encompassing them. As with many native cultures, the transition may be difficult. (McCarthy only received phone service in 1995, and some of the "bush babies," as they call themselves, are still adjusting.)
    In 1979, Wrangell-St. Elias, together with adjoining Kluane National Park in Canada, was named a World Heritage Site. All such sites are "considered to be of such exceptional interest and such universal value that their protection is the responsibility of all mankind." The area is also exceptional in the successful juxtaposition of public, private, and native land. It would be an irrevocable loss to all if rampant commercialism destroyed the character of the land or of the people.