Across the gray-green sweep of Mendenhall Lake, a glacier of the same name rises: a great frozen river thirteen miles long, winding out of the massive Juneau Icefield. Cradled between jagged peaks, it grinds a sinuous path downhill, pulled by gravity and the weight of ice. Over my years living in and traveling Alaska, I have seen thousands of glaciers, from tiny hanging relics high in the Brooks Range to thunderous tidewater beasts. While each one stands unique and gorgeous in its own way, I have never found a glacier that matches the postcard perfection of the Mendenhall. Nick Jans