Day 6. The day our camera died an epic death at the bottom of a glacier lake.
This morning we took a fast hike to Camp Grey at Glacier Grey. The sky was on cue – gray. The mood was – fine. Generally, we’ve seen better hikes.
Our arrival, while early, was poorly timed with the closure of the restaurant and shops. All looked up when we signed up to kayaking to the glacier. We asked about cameras, to which we received a resounding and obvious “yes, bring one!”
Back at the lodge, we relaxed for a couple of hours. Snacks in the sun. Impatiently waiting for my sweaty sleeves to dry.
Gearing up for the excursion – we hopped into wet suits and dropped the camera and our cell phones into a dry bag. Naturally, we went through the typical safety class. Then, into the kayak.
We paddled out past a glacier where the guides offered to take photos. Our turn came up and I offered the camera across out boats.
Aaron and I both watched as the man used the carabiner to clip it to himself. Then, as we slowly opened a gap between the boats – kaploop.
The look of horror on all of our faces had to have been incredible.
Shock.
Panic.
Disbelief.
Laughter.
Then, immediate sadness.
Our. Proposal. Photos.
Holding back tears, I tried to salvage the moment. The guide was overwhelmingly apologetic. Which generally only made me more sad.
The cold, cloudy water made ripples around us while I worked to legit keep myself from breaking down.
We continued the excursion despite my immediate desires to go back in time and back out. Rowing took on a whole new purpose – keeping me distracted and afloat mentally.
The glacier was stunning. it’s hard enough to see such amazing things and not be overwhelmed by them. But – in that moment – tucked into the center of the kayak “raft” – eating chocolates and sipping tea after having lost my end-of-trip travel camera to the depths of the lake – I really just didn’t want to be the girl crying in public.
There’s a lot of that in this trip.
On the way back to shore, the winds picked up. Waves rocked us while I kept paddling harder and harder. At shore, we crashed into a pile of rocks – I see you, universe. And, after out, the guide repeated his apologies over and over.
In the moment, it only made the need to break down that must worse.
Talking with Aaron, we’ll take no money for the camera – unless it’s from the business. I feel ok about that. It was – after all – the photos lost that were most upsetting. And – for the most part – we have quite a few others on our cell phones.
The ones that really matter – our proposal photos – were already copied to my phone. Thank god.
What Aaron doesn’t get is that I never want to forget any of this with him. The insane days. The near-tears moments. The way he caught me from tripping over rocks right before he proposed. The beer he opened immediately after I said “yes.” All the memories that surround those. I want them to live forever.
The shit’s been crazy list
- Booked and rebooked the entire trip twice
- Changed the entire itinerary after Day 2
- Lost the Yaganhouse key – Room 3
- Ran out of pesos
- Hustled our way to Paine Grande
- Got engaged
- Lost a camera in the glacier lake
- Flights moved before we left
- Delays in Houston
- Pre-trip flu
- Mid-trip airport colds
- PMS
- Hiked 55+ miles
This trip has been so much chaos and insanity mixed with so much good. I’m overwhelmingly lucky to have this amazing man by my side for such insane adventures. It is truly stupid.
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