It was a wonderful view; the ice was groaning and breaking in the Cook Inlet, floating past at amazing speeds. The narrow road wound between the freezing cold water and the sheer rock cliffs, ice falls clinging to their sides. Farther down the road, the cliffs mellowed out and bulldozers could be seen going back and forth, going farther down the valley towards Kenai, where avalanches had blocked off roads. If one looked up on the mountainside, you could see avalanches which hadn't quite made it to the road. Twenty foot walls or more of ice and snow sat looming by the side of the road. At the bottom, spheres of ice peeked out from the body of snow, feet of a giant millipede which had slid down from the clouded mountain tops.
As the sun really began to set, beams of light were visible in the air, catching on the snow which had blown off the trees with light breezes. Besides the groan of ice and the occasional car, the valley was silent. There was no wind, a constant by Wyoming standards, except high above in the mountains. Snowy mountains turned pink in the dying light loomed across the bay.
This was Alaska, in the eyes of a Wyoming native.
Submersion ... nice ... of course, as the adviser, I like being kept in the loop about such things ... thanks.
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