During my summer trip to Alaska with my grandfather, we had
taken a hike to a place called Portage Pass. After rounding a corner, I had
gazed upon a large valley covered in a blueish white sheet of alpine glacier. The mountains were carved
to resemble a half pipe that twisted around a bend. There was a small spout
that cascaded against the end moraine consisting of large boulders that had
been ripped from the bed rock by the slowly moving glacier. There were small
areas on the mountain side that had been polished by other smaller sediment
particles that had been pulled along that glimmered in the sunlight. It was bewildering
to gaze upon the amazing power that gravity and snow was able to produce upon
ripping through these mountains consisting slate and stone to become what
seemed to be a skate park for giants.
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