More tours

In 2014, I packed a tent, camping gear, some clothes, and flew to Christchurch. The plan was to bike solo for a week on the trails criss-crossing the South Island. Day one was an easy ride by turquoise lakes. Day two, in contrast, started with a two-hour climb on a mountain trail. By the time the weather changed, I hadn’t seen a soul all morning. A thick fog engulfed me, restricting my vision. A fierce wind picked up. The temperature dropped. Soon, it started to rain. The whole situation felt absurd: was I seriously going to be that tourist? The hapless French woman who phones rescue services begging for a chopper ride? While not in a life-or-death situation, I also knew that a handful of hikers die in remote areas of the country every year. What if the weather deteriorated further? Over the next couple of hours, the mix of solitude, fear and disorientation got to me. By now truly scared, I pushed on, rode down the pass, finished my week of cycling, and upon coming home developed a mild case of what a friend calls “wilderness PTSD”. For months, I had nightmares about big, wild open spaces. I fretted about getting lost while hiking. At my worst point, I didn’t feel safe outside. Thresholds are relative. What might be intimidating to an enthusiast will be a piece of cake for an athlete. What comes naturally to locals seems unworkable to visitors. And a bad experience for a solo woman on a bike is just a funny holiday story to a group of friends. Still, I felt ashamed. I was a wuss. A year later, almost back to normal, I had yet to face my fears. After years of reading everything I could about the Last Frontier and the stories of those who persevered in such a wild environment, I headed up there. Ice Cave Juneau Facebook Twitter Pinterest The author under the Mendenhall glacier. Photograph: Patrick Courtnage I had a list of activities to gently push my limits: hiking, climbing, fish-killing, flying, sailing. I started with a hike on the outskirts of Alaska’s capital, Juneau, on the west Mendenhall glacier trail. The two guides behind Adventure Flow, Eric and Patrick, volunteered to show me their favourite route, warning me that it would be a moderately taxing day out. (As a friend once told me, if a guide enthusiastically talks about a “moderate” activity, run). Juneau, a city only accessible by plane or ferry, is renowned for its hundreds of miles of deserted trails winding through peaks and valleys. The glacier is reachable by helicopters, an option that gets visitors in and out in a matter of minutes. A more demanding route is to conquer it by foot – which Eric insisted is way more rewarding. You sweat, scramble, climb, wade through water – and truly deserve the view. Read more...http://www.theguardian.com