I stood at the observation point on the balcony at the Visitor
Center overlooking the great Mendenhall Glacier at Juneau,
Alaska.  Before me was a beautiful scene.  The glacier reflected
in the large lake.  Ooh, ahh.  Both to the left and right were
mountains.  It was a beautiful clear day.  I watched the people
too, walking around taking photos, and looking at the scenery
before us and at the displays in the center, just a few feet
away.

A constant roar came from a tall and full waterfall to the right
of the glacier.  Once, the glacier covered the waterfall.  No one
was aware of its presence before the glacier receded.  I looked
closer at the base of the waterfall.  There seemed to be a
sandbar and people walking on it.  With my binoculars I traced
the path they must have taken below me.  It crossed large
sandbars separated by streams and covered with bushes.  I found
the general location of the beginning of the path.  A ranger told
me that there was a way to get out there, but it wasn't official,
and that it was a little steep at one point.  I decided that the
best way to see such a beautiful place was up close, so I decided
to try it.  My mom and my husband were along with me.  I told
them I wanted to try the path, and asked if they wouldn't mind
just hanging around waiting for me since they didn't want to join
me.

Into the bushes I went.  Immediately, I had to scramble along
steep wet slate under the cover of brush.  After following some
wrong trails and trying again, I found myself in the large
bush-covered sandy area heading towards the waterfall.  I jumped
little streams and plotted my course across to my goal.  My last
obstacles were climbing a large rock, and then traversing a 20
ft. wide stream dotted with well-placed stepping stones.

I walked right up to the roaring waterfall, and even climbed up
along side it a ways on large rocks.  Walking away from the
waterfall I encountered a large cloud of mist that emanated from
its base.  I walked out along the sandbar towards the center of
the lake and found a large rock to sit on.  I had a snack,
enjoying being present in this amazing location -- surrounded by
the lake and flanked by a glacier, a grand waterfall and
mountains.  I met people too.  Some kids were climbing up much
higher than I had on the rocks.  A gentleman from Germany took my
photo, and I took a photo of two girls out on their own
adventure.

After an hour of "hanging around," I turned back.  I crossed the
creek, climbed the rock, and then looked for hikers emerging from
the bushes to find the best path back.  A couple times I had to
stop and wait for new hikers so I could find the path again.  The
sun was setting, the floating icebergs were glimmering on the
lake, and I enjoyed every moment of delay.

My entire trek took about two hours -- worth every moment.  My
husband and my mom were very understanding and said they enjoyed
the visitor center and the scenery (which included me through the
telescope!)  I'm glad I had the courage to ask for that time.  It
would have been easy just to do the scheduled tour, and to take
no risks.  William Shedd once said, "A ship in the harbor is
safe, but that is not what ships are built for."  I find that
when I go further, it makes all the difference.  It creates
treasured memories.