Portage Glacier Recreation Area, Alaska
Thursday, July 5, 1973
We left my aunt’s and drove just a couple of hours to Portage Glacier, which is sort of on the neck of the Kenai Peninsula.
“The scenery is gorgeous.” That’s the first time I actually wrote those words in my diary, which sort of flabbergasts me considering what we’d seen up to that point. But I think I was massively impressed by my very first icebergs.
According to Wikipedia, the glacier has receded to the point where you can no longer see it from the road. Thank you, global warming. This was not the case in 1973. And the visitor center is new since I’ve been there, too, although we did visit one. We also hiked a trail, then I sat in the car and read while my parents hiked a second trail. Remember, I was fourteen at the time. Self-absorbed teenager and all.
The Kenai Peninsula portion of our trip was actually the part I remember the most. It’s where we had the most encounters with animals, where we had our only success fishing, and where the scenery struck even me so hard I remember it. We spent about a week exploring it before we headed back to Anchorage.