Jack Hamann flaps his 'wings' (check out that hat!) as he sets off for the glacier Travel log Journal date: Nov. 28 Route: Juneau, Alaska Miles today: 78 Total miles: 2,455 Weather: morning: clear and cold; evening: snow

Leslie Hamann makes it all the way to the falls (still dry)   FOLLOW THE JOURNEY Choose a day: Day 1 Day 2, 3 Day 4 Day 5 Day 6 Day 7 Day 8 Day 9 Day 10 Day 11 Day 12 Day 13 Day 14 Day 15     MESSAGE BOARD Share your observations and questions about the trip. Jack and Leslie periodically will post their responses.

December 3, 1999
Web posted at: 12:14 p.m. EST (1714 GMT)

EDITOR'S NOTE: Seattle-based correspondent Jack Hamann is headed on another adventure, this one to just to the south of the Arctic Circle. He'll be driving through the Canadian Rockies, across the windswept northern plains, up the Inside Passage and along the northernmost section of the Alaska Highway. Follow along here for regular dispatches on his journey.

By Jack Hamann and Leslie Hamann

Journal date: November 28
Installment #10

(CNN) -- The parking lots were empty.

Dusted in fresh snow, wide swaths of open ground -- carved from the surrounding forest -- looked large enough to hold dozens of tour buses, hundreds of RVs and thousands of cars.

But that's summer. On this quiet late autumn morning, we parked right up front.

The Mendenhall Glacier, just minutes from downtown Juneau, has a reputation for being "too darned easy" to visit. As it recedes at a rate of 100 feet (30 meters) a year, it leaves a giant amphitheater of glacial till where wide paths are clearly marked with photo opportunities: gorgeous and effortless. See the postcard, and you've seen the sight.

This day, however, was not for sightseeing. Maybe 12 other people had come to wander where 1,200 sometimes gather. They brought their Frisbees and their dogs, walking hand-in-hand on the Kodak Trail, crunching fresh snow all the way to the lip of the giant glacier.

With Leslie "Sacagawea" Hamann leading the way, we crossed an icy stream that most adults could ford in one step, maybe two. Leslie traversed like most adults Jack took one step, then slammed, hip first, through the ice and into the cold water. Jack can only assume that even Lewis and Clark had their embarrassing moments.

With frozen blue jeans providing a ready ice pack, we strolled to the base of a half-frozen waterfall to revel in yet another "Holy cow!" view. Two bald eagles roosted on bare tree limbs. A porcupine slid comically along the edge of the ice. Even with wet pants, it was never too cold.

Folks who live in Juneau seem forever locked in a battle over whether to preserve or exploit the stunning beauty all around them. The city began as a gold mine, and residents still skirmish over occasional proposals to pull even more ore from deeper in the ground.

The dollars from the wallets of cruise-ship customers keep some parts of downtown humming. Other parts of the city complain about inequitable impacts and the superficial silliness that some tour operators seem to encourage.

A new $5-per-person tax on cruise patrons is supposed to help keep Juneau livable, even as those on both sides of the debate shake their heads over whether politicians can be trusted to handle yet another pot of cash.

Although tourism is a huge business, Alaska still lives on its timber, mining and fishing. To be an environmentalist in Alaska takes a bit of foolishness and plenty of guts. People love their land, but they don't want anyone telling them how to take care of it.

Even the standard notes posted in the bathrooms of hotels and B&Bs can reflect this contradiction. Instead of proudly announcing a policy of washing towels only when necessary and trying to conserve soaps and shampoos, the sign in our bathroom was directed to a select few: "To those who are eco-sensitive," it announced, "we take care to conserve water, soap, etc. "Eco-sensitive"? It sounds like a disease.

As in much smaller towns on the Inside Passage, the streets of Juneau were all but deserted after the sun set at 3:30 on this late November afternoon. We stopped at the Red Dog Saloon to watch the tail end of three NFL games piped in on satellite TV.

In the summer, the Red Dog is a tourist trap. During the last week in November, it was a friendly neighborhood watering hole. When Jack wanted to snap a photo, Leslie reminded him that it wasn't the time or place to act like tourists.

As dry snow began to blanket the downtown area, we were directed to a newly reopened restaurant: "Fiddleheads" is the pride and joy of a California chef trained in Lyon, France.

But the town was so quiet, the chef had sent his staff home an hour before we arrived. He offered us free dessert to eat in the cafe below. We'll have to come back when the town is less peaceful.

Jack Hamann is a correspondent with CNN's Environmental Unit and CNN NewsStand.

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