ICEolated.

You never can trust what you see on the internet.

See, it was a few years ago that I first became acquainted with Byron on social media. Browsing about, I was taken with how striking and beautiful Byron was, and I wanted nothing more than to meet him for myself and see if the photos lived up to the real thing.

On my first attempt at meeting him, I couldn’t find him. I blamed it on the time of year and my inexperience in the area in which he was waiting, but I didn’t let that persuade me from attempting to meet up with him again.

So yesterday, I gave it a second try.

And this time, the weather literally prohibited me.

I got close, mind you, and I knew he was just a short distance away but when forceful winds and the potential of being pummeled by avalanches on all sides dare you to tempt fate, you go no further.

And for the second time, I was denied a chance go meet Byron Glacier.

Ayyyyy did I have you fooled?

But this story today isn’t about Byron. It’s about getting outside.

Clocking in at week week 4 of the social distancing mandate that spread through Alaska like last year’s Swan Lake Wildfire (and the rest of the world, come to think of it), I’ve become a little too comfortable with developing some bad habits, as I’m sure we all have.

Snacking, napping, Netflix, and repeat. Lack of motivation to exercise or go outside, increased screen time (this is the first time in my life that I’ve retired at the end of the night with red battery), and the multitude of feelings that permeate my subconscious on the daily: unease, uncertainty, stress, worry.

Though I can’t change the circumstances of this thing as it continues to hog the headlines, I can do something about how it’s making me feel.

We have over 101 million acres of land to explore here in Alaska, and even with the cut travel restrictions, it still leaves an awful lot of acres for us to get out and enjoy in the meantime. So how do I practice social distancing and isolation without continuing to stay cooped up at home? I get outside and explore a glacier.

As you read above, I did not in fact get to see Byron’s brilliant blue cavernous ice caves, FOR THE SECOND TIME, but what mattered more to me was being able to go outdoors and forget about the world for a little while.

Alaska is vast, it’s expansive, it’s raw and striking and one of the benefits of living in this sensational state is having opportunities like this to explore for miles without running into anyone else.

It’s being able to stand in a valley where a glacier once roamed as wind tears through my hair and threatens avalanches at any moment. It’s taking in the magnitude of where I’m blessed to live and appreciating the beauty that lies all around, unfazed by the madness we’re all going through.

It’s easy to forget about these things when our whole lives are so profoundly impacted by this pandemic, but I’ve found relief in appreciating what we still have and for what still surrounds us, despite what the world is going through.

And even though I still haven’t met Byron face to face, and even though I doubt whether those ice caves I see on social media really exist at all, I thank him for getting me outside and into the brilliant landscape that is Alaska, where hiking out to a glacier is still considered practicing isolation.

Or should I say, ICEolation?