Crampon! (clap clap Cramp-off! Crampon Crampoff, the Crampon!

Crampon! (clap clap Cramp-off! Crampon Crampoff, the Crampon!

Here you can see the crampons we used to not fall off the glacier attached to Gary’s feet. They are as wicked sharp as the look, you have to walk in an exaggerated style to not shred your own legs with them. Walking on the glacier kinda of felt like walking on a gigantic, treacherous snow cone, albeit a snow cone that is 15 stories high, 15 km wide, and 300 km long and is moving forward at a pace of 2 m per day (6 feet per day).

Evidence of the glacier’s movement was all around us, every so often you’d hear the cannon fire boom of a huge icefall calving away from the face, and the resounding thunder as it crashes into the lake, as well as smaller cracklings, pops and grumbles. Very much like trekking across a grumpy, living yet frozen giant.

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