Flightseeing Over The Extraordinary Kaskawulsh Glacier

Sheep mountain at the edge of Kluane Lake behind Icefield Discovery Offices
Sheep mountain at the edge of Kluane Lake and Icefield Discovery offices

I opened the door of the tiny plane and hopped out, sinking into the wet snow up to my shins of the Kaskawulsh Glacier. Squinting behind my sunglasses, I scanned the sea of snow-covered peaks glistening against a blinding blue sky. We were completely alone. Tiny specs of life standing in the middle of the Yukon’s St. Elias Mountain range in Kluane National Park, the world’s largest non-polar icefield, 8500 feet above sea level.

To the west stood Mount Logan, the area’s tallest at 19,551 feet. It was invisible, hidden behind a wall of clouds.

Despite the veil, I conjured the mountain in my mind along with the lifeless bodies of the two elite Alpine climbers who died there in 1987. No one knows for sure what happened, but after all these years they’re still hanging from their rigs entombed in ice and snow. A strange thought I know, but I’ve always found stories like that morbidly fascinating.

The toe of the Kaskawulsh glacier in Kluane National Park
The toe of the Kaskawulsh Glacier in Kluane National Park

I was in Yukon Territory, near Alaska. I’d explored Dawson City for a few days and now I was ready to take on nature.

Our morning began in Silver City. And when I say city, that’s a major oversell. It’s mainly a few wooden buildings situated on the southeast shore of Kluane Lake, the largest in the Yukon. Otherwise, it’s all wilderness and the Alaska Highway. There’s a family-owned B & B, a research station that’s part of the Arctic Institute of North America, a small ramshackle ghost town, and the headquarters of Icefield Discovery, the company hosting our Kluane flightseeing adventure.

The view from the toe of the Kaskawulsh Glacier looking back down the Slims River Valley.
The view from the toe of the Kaskawulsh Glacier looking back down the Slims River Valley.

Icefield Discovery has operated out of Silver City for over 30 years, first supporting the research needs of the Institute then branching out to include flights for climbers (the company has the only fixed-wing plane that can land in many of the areas that climbers favor) and tourism.

Sherpal our pilot, a veteran aviator with shaggy dark hair and kind eyes, explained our flight plan. We’d fly up the Slim’s River valley to the toe (the end) of the famed Kaskawulsh glacier, then continue to its head where we’d land, weather permitting, on the icefield where their camp is located at the base of Mount Queen Mary.

(Fun fact: A glacier is only called a glacier when moving through a valley. Otherwise, it’s called an icefield.)

The Kaskawulsh glaciar at the base of Kaskawulsh mountain, in Kluane National Park

Sherpal from Icefield Discovery in Kluane National Park
Sherpal from Icefield Discovery

Sherpal opened the door of the plane and invited me to take the backseat. I happily accepted, thrilled to have it all to myself so I could slide from side to side and photograph the ride.

Our winged chariot was a bright yellow Helio Courier originally built by the C.I.A in the early sixties. A STOL aircraft equipped with turbochargers and wheel skis, Sherpal explained, “was made for short take-offs and landings.” Ideal for glacier exploration.

We began our journey, gliding up the Slims River Valley after a quick and easy ascent. Historically, the glacier’s meltwater used to drain through this channel, feeding Kluane Lake and the Bering Sea beyond. But last year the glacier receded, turning the meltwater east towards the Pacific Ocean. In a mere four days ,the Slims River was gone, leaving miles of latte-colored mud and a cracked and scarred landscape.

Mount Vancouver in the distance.

Minutes into the flight, Sherpal pointed towards the toe of the Kaskawulsh glacier up ahead. Even at 9,000 feet, the tentacles of the beast snaking through the mountains were enormous.

Once overhead I could see the surface all mottled and lumpy. Deep crevasses that looked deceptively shallow from above, were in some places large enough to swallow the plane. Strips of jagged rock, like the spine of a giant dragon called media moraines, outlined the glacier, defining the path of the icy multi-lane highway.

We followed the glacier west a few minutes towards its head. Where moments before the landscape was full of dark tortured rock and bare peaks, the scene transformed. It was as if we’d flown through some magical portal and been transported to the Arctic. Everything was covered in snow.

More of the gorgeous mountains and icefield

Sherpal lowered the plane’s skis and we began our descent. Without a single bump, we landed on the Kaskawulsh icefield and came to a gentle halt. To our left were two long white and orange tents.

What’s that about? I asked. “People can stay here?”

“We have various packages,” said Sherpal. “Most people like to ski and depending on your level, where you’re at, you can take some really challenging slopes on Queen Mary Mountain, or you can do some pretty easy stuff, very gentle cross-country skiing…It really depends on how much you challenge yourself.”

Turquoise meltwater stands out against the surface of the Kaskawulsh glacier
Turquoise meltwater stands out against the surface of the Kaskawulsh glacier

There was no way I’d ever ski Mount Queen Mary, my skills don’t rate, nor my bravery. But cross-country skiing? That could be interesting.

“It’s safe?” I ask. Remembering the dangerous crevasses we’d passed over. He assured me that the base camp was in an area where guests could explore and ski safely.

I was intrigued. Less about what I’d do during the day. I fantasized about being in that incredible wilderness at night under a blanket of stars. Oh, the photographs I could make!

I walked the icefield a bit and checked out the tents. There really wasn’t anywhere to go per se. The experience was more about being there and taking in the view than about exploration. After half an hour, Sherpal said it was time to go. He had other clients waiting.

The dark area in the top right of this image is an example of a medial moraine.

On the return flight, Sherpal flew lower so we could see all the nooks and crannies of the battered yet magnificent glacier. From up high, the sheer breadth of the landscape and the expanse of the Kaskawulsh was the appeal. With the change in perspective, it was easier to get a sense of its scale and complexity.

True to the Helio Courier’s reputation, the landing was short and sweet. As we taxied to our stop I saw a couple standing near the office and I knew they were Sherpal’s next guests. We deplaned and I smiled catching their eyes.

“You’re going to love it,” I said. “It’s one hell of a ride.”

Here’s a little video I put together of the adventure…

How you can fly over the Kaskawulsh Glacier and land on an Icefield in Kluane National Park

Silver City, off the Alaska Hwy where Icefield Discovery is based, is about 1.5-2 hour drive from White Horse, the capital of the Yukon Territory. Unless you plan on camping or hiking in the park, (there’s little else to do) I recommend you make your flight-seeing adventure a day trip using White Horse as your home base. Be ready for little to no cell service for most of your drive.

Because my flight was first thing in the morning, I stayed at the Dalton Lodge in Haines Junction the night before, about 40 minutes from the airfield. Dalton Lodge is family owned and caters to avid fishermen and a Europeans. It’s clean and comfortable and the food is good. The walls are paper-thin, however. I could hear my next door neighbors phone alarm and anything anyone said near my room.


The greater the lead time when booking your flight-seeing appointment, the greater the chance you’ll get the date and time you prefer.

The season is from mid-June -> September.

A 1 hr flight plus a glacier landing is $325 per person.

It’s $250 per person for a 1 hr, Major Peaks of St. Elias tour.

Inquire directly if you’re interested in camping. It requires 3-4 people to book and a 3-day minimum.

How I captured the images

I used a Canon 5D Mark 3 with a 24-105 f4 lens.

For this flight, I wasn’t able to shoot out an open window (you can have the door removed for an extra fee), so I wore dark colors so I’d be less likely to catch a reflection in the window. Most of the time I put the lens up to the glass.

Be advised, the vibration of the plane makes it difficult to hold the telephoto steady. It will try to unwind on you. Make sure to hold on tight once you’ve decided your focal length.

I was a guest of Tourism Yukon during this trip but the sentiment is my own. 

For regular updates sign up for The Insatiable Traveler’s newsletter

That time I flew over the Kaskawulsh Glacier in Kluane National Park and landed on the world's largest non-polar icefield. And how you can too! (1)

59 thoughts on “Flightseeing Over The Extraordinary Kaskawulsh Glacier

    • Susan Portnoy says:

      Sorry for the delayed reply, I’ve been on the Sea of Cortez without a connection.

      I really loved the glacier landing. ❤️

  1. clif says:

    i lived over 20 years in yukon along kluane lake,in burwash landing, destruction bay, and haines junction,had to leave for health reasons, and i miss that wonderful yukon, each and everyday.but beware if it gets in your blood, it hard to leave it, true heaven on earth!

    • Susan Portnoy says:

      Thank you, Susan. Yes, they are very different than my usual which is why I think I really enjoyed making them. Plus the experience was so incredible.

  2. Sóla Snapshot says:

    Susan! I swear you’ve got me all emotional with these pictures….they’re simply, amazing! Looking at each picture it was almost as if you transported me there with you….so intense. You’re by far one of the best photographers I have come across on here and I truly mean that. I haven’t been blogging or doing photography for that long so this is a great inspiration for me. Keep ’em comin’ lady. Best, Sóla 🙂

    • Susan Portnoy says:

      Thank you, Robin. I hadn’t heard of it either. It was such a fantastic surprise. Definitely try and go. The Yukon, and the Kluane National Park, are amazing.

  3. leecleland says:

    You’ve captured the sheer breadth of these amazing glaciers in your images. Truly inspirational thank you for sharing your experiences.

    • Susan Portnoy says:

      Thank you. I’m very happy you think so. The glacier was a very inspiring place for me and I am happy to know that I was able to share some of that magnificence with you. 🙂

    • Susan Portnoy says:

      Thank you! I had a lot of fun photographing the adventure. The landscape was an incredible muse. Not hard to take a good photo with that kind of spectacular nature surrounding you. 🙂

  4. Chris Riley says:

    Awesome photos. And although I’m sure seeing the glaciers, icefields, and snow covered peaks is a fantastic experience, this sun lover appreciated sharing your experience whilst remaining tucked up in her warm bed in Sunny West Australia. My desire to see more of your wonderful pics, and read more of your experiences in that cold part of the world increases, my desire to experience it for myself not so much. I feel chilled to the bone just looking at your photos – I could almost see red noses and steamy breaths…

    • Susan Portnoy says:

      Hahaha.. I am thrilled that you enjoyed my chilly images from your warm abode. Surprisingly, and I’m sure not all the time, it was around 65 degrees the day I landed on the icefield. The sun was blinding. I think the experience is very much like those who ski in Aspen or the Alps with their shirts off during certain parts of the year. It’s thankfully not too cold. It was actually nice. Surprisingly. 🙂

  5. Pingback: A Marvelous Tale – ITH & SB

    • Susan Portnoy says:

      Thank you!! was there last week and it was about 65 degrees on the glacier – you can’t go up there in the winter. Not so bad right?

I would love to hear from you! What did you think of the post?