Glacial Mornings & Global Denial - George Takes a HIKE.

While wrapping up my noble visit to Norway, I had the good fortune (as always) to find a free morning on my packed agenda. Naturally, being a bear of distinction, I decided to spend it as any creature of refined taste would — by hiking up the Tungestølen to Austerdalsbreen trail in Jostedalsbreen National Park.

George at Jostedalsbreen National Park.

And what a hike. The trail was as muddy, rocky, and gloriously treacherous as one might expect from a place where waterfalls cascade straight from 6,500-foot peaks.

At the midpoint of the climb, I took a moment — as any refined traveler should — to sit and admire the sheer grandeur before me. No city clamor. No tourists loudly comparing souvenir prices or lamenting the tragic absence of fast food. Just me.

The alpine silence. The birds, singing like they were getting paid for it. And the glacier-fed river, racing through the valley like it had somewhere very important to be.

It was a rare moment of peace.

Jostedalsbreen National Park.

And in that solitude, I reflected — as I do from time to time — on how profoundly fortunate it is to roam this planet, to breathe its wild air, and to experience its wonders firsthand.

In short, I thought about how lucky the world is to have me.

After besting the terrain (with dignity mostly intact), I reached the summit — and found myself startlingly close to the glacial giant herself.

The ice was breathtaking. Blue green. Ancient. Almost spectral. And — here's the twist — noticeably smaller than she should be.The glacier has retreated considerably in recent years.

Let me be perfectly clear: Those who claim climate change is a hoax have clearly never clawed their way up these mountains just to witness, firsthand, the planet’s slow unraveling.

Hello, people... Get a grip.

The world is melting. And not in a fun, gelato-on-the-Riviera kind of way.

As I descended, boots caked in mud and soul steeped in wisdom, I passed a group of tourists who’d turned back at the first stream crossing. They’ll post a selfie and claim they hiked it.

Meanwhile, I actually did. But then, I always do.

As I concluded my welcomed visit with mother nature, I stood, took one last long look at the fading glacier, and thought: The world is melting, and most people are too busy scrolling to notice.

Luckily, I’m not like most.

I’m George. I look up.