Nell’s day starts with rolling out of a tent, getting ready, and joining the morning crew meeting. Then she hops into a helicopter to work on one of the most secluded areas of the Matanuska Glacier. In the first season, she had no idea that coming to Alaska would mean her work would entail riding in a helicopter. Not too long afterward, she was asked to join the glacier camp crew.

That summer was filled with lots of hands-on learning, planning, and communication with the small team. Nell reflects back on the first helicopter ride she took. It was an off day, and perfect weather to get exposed to the widespread beauty of the Matanuska.

After seeing the convergences of ice, mountains, and the forces of nature from a holistic view, it was hard not to look forward to the commute.

From there, it was learning procedures and safety with the helicopter. She found the trick to success was to stay focused on the systems in place. Simultaneously, stay calm and collected during loading and unloading. All in the face of spinning propeller blades above and climbing gear in hand.

This year, Nell has gone from being a support crew to taking on the lead role of camp manager. This adds a bit more responsibility and adventure to the job. Being the camp manager means being on site on the glacier for 7 to 10 days. That is opposed to the 2 to 3 days the crew takes off for the first year of providing glacier support.

So as the glacier world turns, interns, new groups of guests, and pilots come and go, Nell is there pivoting with the changes. She has her own routine and a personal tent area to retire to at the end of the night. And a list of schedules, needs, and logistics to tend to daily.

The camp manager lets the base know the needs for the next trip. This manager also oversees maintenance for the semi-permanent structure that serves as the central hub of the luxury glacier experience. Nell isn’t in it alone, though.

Interns fly out with each new group. They offer the same support and attention that Nell learned in her first year. Many hands make light work out of the continual stream of details that need to be tended to on the ice.

There are gourmet meals to prepare in the kitchen, linens to turn in the canvas tents, and gear to organize. These are just a few items on the to-do list. While Nell is sometimes backed by others on the glacier, she manages independently during the turnaround between trips.

With independence comes the need for strong problem-solving skills. Like when the kitchen door handle falls off, locking you inside. Nell laughs about waiting for a heli-drop while stuck in the kitchen. Thinking fast, she used a butter knife to get out in time for the landing. Call her MacGyver—she escaped in minutes.

With these small challenges come bigger responsibilities, bringing both joys and trials, and the natural flow of varied chaos. Nell gets the pleasure of observing and tending to the glacier realm, as well as the responsibility of keeping everything in line. When things go right, she reaps the rewards; when they go wrong, she takes accountability.

When Nell and I discuss her progression as a guide and working with a helicopter, it seems akin to the glacier. A slow process of great force and change. By the minute, you might not be able to see the subtleties of this metamorphosis. And then one day, you spot a feature so immense and grand. The importance of all the forces, big and small, becomes undeniable in what is.

Sometimes we do not see how life changes us until we spot ourselves in a mirror. One day, a guest shared a video with Nell of her helping people load into the helicopter for a trip. Herself, on her umpteenth load, moving seamlessly with guests and gear.

Until then, she had no idea how far she had come, how much had changed. Watching herself on the screen, Nell met the glacier guide she had become. In that reflection, the quiet power of time and effort became clear—a true transformation, unmistakable and immense.

Glacier camp is demanding, far from an ordinary job. Yet subtle human joys emerge on the ice. Nell notes the glacier’s many wonders and values most the communal bond after a long day. At dinner, guides and guests gather to share a gourmet meal and connect.

In that environment, you see what connects us as humans. Whether you are the glacier camp manager or the dad on vacation, we are all seeking the same thing, each in our own way. For Nell, the Alaska commute is her path to that connection.