Exploring the interior of an Icelandic glacier with a small group tour.
Our power went out before dawn, and we awoke to a slightly chilled house. It would get every colder over the next three days, as our veneer of civilization cracked under the weight of the ice.
Strange, hair-like ice formations were growing out of branches in our Olympic Peninsula yard, and I set out to determine exactly what caused these formations of hair ice.
Standing before the ice cave entrance, I felt the menacing breath of the ice age upon me. Outside, the day was sunny and mild; inside the cave entrance, the atmosphere was dark, with a thin fog carried by the breeze coming down the long and icy corridor. The wind smelled of elemental rocks and ice, and carried a message of unrelenting cold.