Glacier Hiking- Do NOT forget your crampons

When the itinerary mentioned "glacier hiking" I could not wait. I literally flew from the Equator less than 24 hours previously and thought that a trip to an enormous arctic glacier would be the perfect contrast from tropical jungle life. I imagined myself leisurely following a worn trail through snow and morraine, commenting on the incredible size of the glacier from a distance and taking a few digital photos. I did NOT think I would be scaling vertical ice walls- crampons fastened to my full-leather boots, harness cinched and an ice-axe in hand- staring down into dark blue crevasses! This was INCREDIBLE- I felt like Roald Amundsen and Ernest Shackleton trekking the high North... but with a guide carrying dinner and the car 2 hours away! Our guide, Tura, was an accomplished man in anything extreme and Nordic- a veteran marathon and ultra-marathon runner, half-way through completing the Seven Summits, which entails climbing the tallest mountain on all 7 continents, scheduled to summit Everest in 2011, an owner and trainer of over 300 sled dogs and a finisher of the legendary Iditarod dog sled race. Needless to say, I didn't question ANYTHING he said to us.

We spent the entire day in the stunning "Stone Valley", about 1 1/2 hours drive from the center of Tromsø. The hike in was a gentle meander through birch, pine and wildflowers that followed the streambank of raging glacial runoff. I was surprised to see so many plants already familiar to me from my home in Colorado- especially what I know as Parry Gentians and Fireweed, two common flower species that color the Central Rocky Mountains from late Spring to early Fall. The landscape is so similar to what I am used to but I had to constantly remind myself of some very important differences. Tree line in the Colorado mountains roughly is reached around 11,000 feet, above which alpine trees take their characteristic Krumholz form and hikers, anticipating an approaching summit, must rely on rock cairns as guidance. However here, in the Stone Valley, the tree line seemed to be around 1500 feet above sea level- a very similar landscape at very different latitudes. And the sun- it hung in the same part of the sky for almost 10 hours, and it constantly felt like 3 o'clock in the afternoon. Guessing the time, as I found out, was difficult.

When we finally made it to the base of the glacier and Tura began explaining how the rope in his hands was our lifeline for the rest of the day, I started to realize what the day was going to be like. No more hiking through wildflowers. We suited up, strapped on the crampons, secured the ice-axes, locked our carabeaners and started marching towards an ice-covered saddle between 3 large peaks. Before I knew it, Tura was winding his way, which was our way, between crevasses and up ice walls, stepping over cracks and edging along ridges. While my friends and I were busy not disappearing into the glacial caverns, Tura explained in detail the various forms of ice- Whiskey Ice, Blue Ice, Snow and an intermediate stage called Filn- how alpine mountaineers become adept at reading ice and snow, a skill necessary to avoid mistakes that I chose not to think about. Like I said, after hearing his resume, I trusted every single word.

And as we spent hours climbing the glacier, we increasingly gained a perspective that showed just how quickly its body of ice is receeding. Markers since the early 1990s have charted the glacier's recession, with greater losses taking place over shorter time frames. It took approximately 11 years for the glacier to recede around 50 meters through the 1990s and into the early years of the 21st century. Between 2004 and 2006, 100 meters more were lost. Regardless of the major causes, a changing climate is undeniable here in the high North, and the glaciers are just one of the measuring sticks.

After reaching solid ground again, we dismantled the gear and made our way back down valley. Returning from alpine hikes can be just as spectacular as the ascent, as the downhill views offer new sites of distant peaks and blue gray waters. We stopped at a small cabin to eat a delicious dinner of pink-flesh salmon on sliced and seasoned potatoes- a meal that many have said is authentic Norwegian- and made it back to town just before 9 pm. Skål to an incredible day.

Train Bars and Rooftops: Tromsø Nightlife

With barely an hour to catch a cab, check-in, put down 3 pieces of luggage that had been as battered and bruised as I, take a shower that my airplane seatmates looked forward to probably more than I did and find something that did not smell like mold to wear, I met my program partner Alex Thorpe and 4 international students researching within the University of Tromsø for a thorough cultural exchange in one of the city's most active social scenes: the bars. With a population of just over 63,000, Tromsø is an accessible town with a lively community that seems to enjoy taking advantage of good pubs and delicious food. The crisp, cool air of late summer in Tromsø provided the perfect opportunity to see this city alive on a Saturday night. The streets are spotless and the people friendly, welcoming us at every establishment with big smiles and warm conversation. Mack Beer, the local brew, was quickly in our hands accompanied by a small bag of Tørrfisk, a popular snack of thin pieces of dried white fish that evidently goes well with beer. We completely ignored the bartender's advice to NOT eat it around friends if you want them to sit next to you, opened the pack and began the 5 minute chewing process... it's an aquired taste... and will make the perfect souvenirs.

And so we moved from the old train boxcar bar to rooftops to patios- soaking in the nightlife and enjoying the extended evening twilight. Set right on the water's edge, the city boasts an attractive blend of land and sea, both urban and open to the natural elements. A tent in the center of town was completely filled with people of all ages, cheersing their drinks (SKÅL!) and dancing to the tunes of an energized band that looked like they could play all night. We later found out that Tromsø also hosts a very popular film festival as well as other large music events that attract crowds from all parts- just a few more reasons to return... as if I needed any!

Difference in Latitude

One overnight bus, three planes over three continents and thirty-one hours took me from 3 degrees North of the equator to 3 degrees North of the Arctic Circle, from the North Rupununi in the heart of Guyana to the azul fjords of Tromsø, Norway. Approximately 9100 kilometers separate the humid, lush expanse of tropical lowland rainforest from the stunning glacial valleys carpeted in birch and pine. A passage between such extremes is spectacularly unsettling- the body moves easily while the mind is caught in an unusual balance difficult to describe- a sensation unlike any other that forcefully reaffirms the immense diversity of this beautiful planet. I grew to love the languid flow of the Essequibo River that cut large and lazy ox bow curves through a forest of a thousand shades of green, the unmistakeable call of scarlet macaws flying two-by-two and the distant rumble of a conversation between orange-haired Howlers.

And yet I was immediately blown away by the sweeping views of stone and sea that shape the landscape of Northwest Norway. My arrival into Tromsø couldn't have been more jaw-dropping, as the airplane glided between steep mountain walls framing the aquamarine waters of arctic fjords. A stunning mix of greys and blues seperated by the dark green leaves of endless trees. The elements found in both locations, though so similar in nature, arrange themselves in such dramatically different ways. Beauty presents itself in such dramatically different ways. And Tromsø, unquestionably, is surrounded by it.