Exit Glacier and Seward, AK

The sun was finally out, and I could slowly feel my energy returning. Nature’s Nectars Coffee Shop is closed on Wednesdays, so instead of my usual morning latte I made breakfast and coffee in the van.

I spent a few more hours at the Seward Community Library reading about the southern Kenai Peninsula and refining my route to Cooper Landing for the following day. After several days of feeling under the weather, it felt good to slow down, plan the next part of the journey, and simply enjoy having the energy to think about what lay ahead instead of how I was feeling.

The previous afternoon I had driven toward Exit Glacier but turned around when the weather deteriorated into steady, off-and-on rain. Today couldn't have been more different. A few clouds still clung to the distant mountains, but overhead the sky was a deep, vibrant blue. By late afternoon I pointed the van back toward Exit Glacier, hoping the conditions would finally let me experience one of Kenai Fjords National Park's most accessible landmarks.

The drive from Seward to Exit Glacier is only about twelve miles, but it doesn't take long to leave town behind. The road follows the Resurrection River through a broad valley carved by ancient glaciers, with steep, forested mountains rising on both sides. As I drove farther inland, I passed the KOA campground and several smaller camping areas. Once inside Kenai Fjords National Park, it became obvious just how popular this place is during the summer. Even in the middle of the afternoon, people had already begun settling into campsites, while others searched for one of the few remaining places to spend the night.

The Exit Glacier trailhead serves as the starting point for several trails. Short paved paths lead to overlooks and interpretive signs marking where the glacier stood in previous decades, making its retreat impossible to ignore. Farther up the valley, the famous Harding Icefield Trail climbs more than 3,000 feet over 8.2 miles to sweeping views of the immense icefield that feeds dozens of glaciers throughout the park. Feeling much better than I had over the past week was encouraging, but I knew better than to overdo it. Instead, I chose one of the moderate trails, hiking about three miles until the glacier finally opened up in front of me.

Standing there, I couldn't help but think about how alive it looked. Even from a distance, it wasn't just a wall of ice. Meltwater thundered from beneath the glacier, deep blue crevasses caught the afternoon sun, and the surrounding mountains framed the entire valley. It was easy to understand why so many visitors make Exit Glacier one of their first stops after arriving in Seward.

One of my favorite parts of the hike wasn't the scenery, though it certainly deserved the attention. It was the people. Just as on the Kenai Fjords cruise a few days earlier, I found myself talking with travelers from all over the world. I met hikers from Poland, France, Japan, China, and Spain. There was something fitting about people from so many different countries sharing the same trail to stand before a glacier that has been quietly shaping this valley for thousands of years.

In several places the park was still recovering from flood damage. Sections of road and trail showed where powerful meltwater had washed away embankments, a reminder that this landscape is anything but static. It wasn't difficult to imagine the tremendous force released each spring as snow melts, glacial streams swell, and the entire valley is reshaped once again.

I stopped along the trail to photograph the wildflowers. Many had lost their petals after several days of rain, but those that remained were stunning. The afternoon sun filtered through the trees at just the right angle, bringing out their rich, vibrant colors while creating a beautifully soft, glowing background.

After the hike I returned to the van, made dinner, and relaxed for a while before deciding the day wasn't quite over. The clear skies were too good to waste. I drove back into Seward and stopped along the shoreline to photograph the mountains and fjords in the soft evening light. The blue sky had begun to warm with hints of gold, the water was almost perfectly calm, and the peaks reflected the last light of the day.

While downtown, I couldn't resist one more stop at Sweet Darlings for another baby bear cup of gelato. From there I wandered along the waterfront beside Resurrection Bay until nearly 10:00 p.m. Even at that hour there was still enough light to linger, one of those uniquely Alaskan evenings where sunset seems to take its time. Eventually I made my way back to the parking lot for my final night in Seward.

As I settled into the van, I realized how much had changed in just a few days. I'd arrived feeling tired, sick, and unsure whether I'd have the energy to enjoy Seward the way I'd hoped. Now, with the side door open to the cool evening air and tomorrow's drive to Cooper Landing waiting ahead, I felt like I had found my rhythm again. Sometimes a place doesn't change you with a single spectacular moment. Instead, it quietly gives you exactly what you need—a few days of mountains, glaciers, kind conversations, and long summer evenings that remind you why you started the journey in the first place.