Research for Original Paintings
Ideas for my original paintings originate from life experiences. For example, the original painting Glacier Trail came from reference material obtained years ago. And, not unusual for me, behind each painting is a story to tell.
A few years ago artists were invited by the Kenai Fjords National Park to be guests for a guided hike from Exit Glacier to the Harding Ice Fields. In order to drive to Seward and hike the trail all in one day I needed at least 14-15 hours for the round trip. Given the long hours of summer daylight in Alaska I am used to putting in marathon days, but to relax and enjoy the experience I decided to fly to Seward on a commuter plane from Anchorage.
I congratulated myself on the decision to fly when the day dawned bright and clear. The flight from Anchorage over the Chugach mountains was spectacular. After a briefing by the park ranger we began hiking the well maintained Exit Glacier trail. Soon after the fork marked Harding Ice Field, we found ourselves climbing through undergrowth up a steep rocky slope. I remember grabbing tree roots for leverage to scale the the boulders, and felt old and out of shape as I watched the young ranger leap up the incline without pause. Not wanting to be the slowest in the group, I picked up the pace.
After several more climbs my body seemed to adjust to the effort and I began to enjoy the hike. Soon we were out of the trees and the trail became a more gradual ascent with gentle switch backs. We snapped photos and scribbled notes as the ranger named each wildflower and bush along the way. After several hours we came to a steep grade covered with scree. Climbing scree is painfully slow, with every forward step we would slide a half step backward. I pushed hard and ground it out because it looked like the top of the mountain was just a little way beyond the ridge at the top of the scree.
When we reached the ridge I was chagrined to see that beyond lay a series of more ridges, each one higher than the other and realized that I what I saw earlier was a false peak. “How much further to the ice fields?” I asked. I almost fell over when ranger smiled and pointed to the furthest ridge and said that when we reached that point we would be almost halfway! I tried not to appear dismayed, but knew I was in trouble because it had taken a herculean effort for me to get to where we were. Heart sinking I vowed to myself to tough it out, look down at the ground, focus, and stay the course. Soon I began to lag behind the group. I reminded myself that I was the oldest and if I wanted to see the ice fields I had to pace myself. At the same time the gnawing pain I had been trying to ignore from boots rubbing my heels and toes, quickly sharpened.
During the next painful hours my mind was flooded with mixed emotions, elation over the incredible views and depression that I might not make it to the top. The pain from my boots could not be ignored anymore, it was joined by new pain from my knees and an overall general fatigue. My day pack grew heavy, and underneath my shirt was soaked with sweat.
Earlier we spotted black bears and the ranger warned us that they were often encountered along the trail. It was really not an option to quit at this point, we were nearly at our destination and it would not be wise to hike back alone. I had little choice but to keep going and decided to push harder to keep up. What seemed like hundreds of magnificent vistas, gorgeous alpine valleys, and incredible wildflowers later, we reached the Harding Ice Fields! All my aches and complaints vanished at the awesome sight of miles and miles of ice, a frozen highway bordered by mountain peaks as far as the eye could see, finally vanishing out of sight into blue sky. It was fabulous!
We sat on rocks at the top of the world and watched the clouds cross the sky, drank in the patterns of the ice, the color of the crevices, the beauty of alpine flowers, we breathed clear air and the heat of the sun melted our tired bodies until we felt lazy, drowsy, and quite content. I don’t know how long we celebrated the beauty of this wonderful place when the ranger jolted us back to reality by announcing that it was getting late and we’d better head back. For the first time that day I checked my watch and was shocked to see that my plane left in two hours!! We spent six hours climbing, how on earth could I get back down the mountain and back to the airport in time to catch my flight?
My feet seemed to grow wings as I flew down steep ridges, skidded down scree, leapt over creeks and logs and ignored the increasing pain in my feet and knees. At the boulders, I slid on my butt! My clothes were dirty and torn from getting caught in the overgrowth. It was a miracle that I made the plane with five minutes to spare, covered in dirt, mud, sweat, with hair gone wild, and my breathing still rasping hard from running. I slipped into my seat quietly trying not to be noticed. I don’t know why everyone didn’t flee from the plane, I looked like a vagrant or someone who just survived a train wreck! Instead, passengers were polite and only exchanged glances before going back their own business, no one asked me what happened. This could happen only in Alaska.
On the beautiful flight home I watched sunlight on the mountain peaks and memories of the hike to the Harding Ice Fields filled my senses. I giggled aloud as I remembered my plan to fly to Seward, thereby allowing myself enough time to relax and enjoy the day. In retrospect given the short time between the one flight into Seward and the one flight out of Seward each day, it was ridiculous to try to hike the Harding Ice Field trail in between. But I did, and am glad that I did. I still remember that day as if it were yesterday. And my painting, Glacier Trail, was borne from that unforgettable experience.
Gail Niebrugge, Alaska Artist
