The toe of the Athabasca glacier is the wildest thing I’ve seen in the wild. The “toe” is the name given to the receding edge of the Athabasca Glacier, which flows down from the massive Columbia Icefield in the Canadian Rockies of Jasper National Park in Alberta, Canada.

The Columbia Icefield is a gorgeous expanse of glaciers, snowfields, ice-fed lakes, and rugged mountain peaks along the Icefields Parkway, between Lake Louise (near Banff National Park) and the town of Jasper in the Canadian Rockies. A hundred years ago, traversing this remote wilderness on horseback took two to three weeks. Today, enthusiastic cyclists cover this 232 kilometer distance in two to six days, depending on how much time they spend exploring along the way.

There is no cell service along the entire stretch of the parkway, so travelers are expected to be fully self-reliant. From October to May, most gas stations, restaurants, and visitor centers are closed for the season.

At the Columbia Icefield Discovery Centre, we showed our tickets to board a shuttle that took us to the Ice Explorer. The Ice Explorer is a specially designed vehicle equipped to drive on the glacier.

The Athabasca Glacier tour guides are kind and care about the environment. As they show us the landscape, they make us wonder about our own ecological footprint. They also mention that the touring company has been vetted by scientists and that its tours have little to no impact on the glacier’s retreat.

One of our tour guides was from Winnipeg, Manitoba, and she hadn’t seen summer in the past three years because she spends her time guiding tours around the world, alternating between the Northern and Southern Hemispheres.

As we got off the bus, I was genuinely excited to step onto a glacier. I was also intensely regretful of my selfishness in wanting to experience such a fragile ecosystem up close. What if my presence here was deeply hurting Mother Nature and causing more irreversible damage?

I walked around gently, tiptoeing as if the 300-meter-deep glacier would crack any minute. I went to the edges of the designated area to touch the fresh, crisp glacial water. I washed my face with it and cupped my palms to drink some. My kids were not too thrilled as they pointed out black dots in the water, which were probably crushed rock. A few people around me were filling their empty water bottles with the water. I wished I could remember the taste of that water forever.

We did not hike up and down the glacier, but we could see many people who had signed up with touring companies that specialize in ice hiking.

The trip was as exciting as it was terrifying. It was a tour of the “not-so-icy” Athabasca Glacier. The glacier is receding, and it is receding fast. It was as if I were in a time capsule of global warming.

This summer in the Canadian Rockies will stay in my memory for a long time to come.

The irony is not lost on me, when I ask myself:

How can I preserve this beauty for generations to come?