There is something both empty and full about an adventure’s end, but we’ll see you soon on Matanuska Glacier. On his last night, Jay, a MICA guide, worked late on the ice for one final training to earn his “Level Two” status. The following morning, he left base for the season. That night, upon his return, the entire MICA crew was gathered at the campfire, as if we had an unspoken agreement to be together.

We reminisced about the past, dreamed about the future, and soaked in the last night of our full staff. Jay smiled as we congratulated him on passing the Level Two guide test. This was accompanied by teasing him for the ridiculous amount of meat he consumes, and we all caught him at a moment where we could say our independent ‘goodbye for now’s.

When I caught Jay, I was hit with reality: someone I respect, admire, and find hilarious, and someone I am honored to call a friend, is leaving, and I don’t know if I’ll see him again. Of course, we all hope to be working at MICA next season, but a lot can change from September to May. We can’t make any meaningful promises to one another about the future, especially in this industry where we live from adventure to adventure and fly by the seat of our pants.

Some people say that’s the magic of this life. You meet people, get to know and love them, and after the adventure, you go your separate ways. Simultaneously, knowing you’ve got another friend somewhere out there. While there is texting, calling, FaceTime, and other modern forms of communication, many of us don’t like looking at our phone screens for longer than absolutely necessary.

More importantly, we are probably completely wrapped up in our current adventure, meeting and becoming a part of whatever scene we are now living in. I know that’s what I love about this life: the genuine and full commitment to what life is right in front of you. It’s being fully immersed in your environment that makes the adventure life-changing, and the goodbyes sting.

In saying goodbye to Jay, I realized how much I have learned from knowing and working with him, and how heavy my heart is as the season wraps up. Tomorrow, Mel and Adam leave. I am realizing how much I am going to miss Mel’s goofy smile, work ethic, and sense of humor. I am going to miss Adam’s folk music, his commitment to training first-year guides, and hearing him respond to (nearly) everything with “word!” There is not a single person here that I am not going to miss dearly for one reason or another.

And in all these ‘goodbye for nows ’ I am really realizing what incredible people I have met, and people I get to call my friends.

I am sitting in the guide hut, trying to find a way to share my experience this summer. I am left without words. Life feels like a secret here, something that cannot really be expressed. On my first day, I rode in the van with Wes in the seat behind me. We asked each other what we were looking forward to most this season.

We both mentioned how we hoped to become a community and really get to know everyone here. The way you only do when you’re living and working with the same people you regularly trust your life with. All I have to say is we got everything we hoped for, and so much more.