Cryo-Archaeology: Melting Glaciers & Hunting Tech

In a world grappling with the escalating consequences of climate change, an unexpected and remarkable story is unfolding high in the planet's mountainous realms. As ancient ice, once thought to be a permanent fixture of our world, recedes at an alarming rate, it is relinquishing secrets that have been held in its frozen embrace for millennia. Out of the melting glaciers and perennial ice patches, a treasure trove of perfectly preserved artifacts and even human remains are emerging, giving birth to a new and urgent field of scientific inquiry: cryo-archaeology.

This burgeoning discipline stands at the precipice of a unique paradox. The very climate crisis that threatens our future is providing an unprecedented window into our distant past. For archaeologists, this is both a golden age of discovery and a desperate race against time. The organic materials emerging from the ice—wood, leather, textiles, and flesh—are so exquisitely preserved that they offer a high-definition glimpse into the lives of our ancestors. Yet, the moment these fragile remnants are exposed to the elements, they begin to decay, often vanishing before they can be found and saved. This is the story of cryo-archaeology, a field where melting glaciers are the gatekeepers to lost worlds, and where scientists are piecing together the history of human ingenuity and survival, one thawing artifact at a time. This article delves into the heart of this frozen frontier, exploring the incredible hunting technologies being unearthed, the stories of the ancient people who wielded them, and the profound implications of these discoveries in our rapidly warming world.

The Accidental Archaeologists: How Climate Change is Unlocking the Past

The narrative of cryo-archaeology begins not in a laboratory or a museum, but high in the alpine zones of our planet, where ice has long reigned supreme. To understand the significance of the discoveries being made, it's crucial to distinguish between two types of mountain ice: glaciers and ice patches. While the term "glacial archaeology" is often used as a catch-all, the most significant finds are almost exclusively made in ice patches.

Glaciers are colossal rivers of ice in constant, albeit slow, motion. This movement grinds and crushes anything trapped within, meaning that artifacts found at the snout of a glacier are typically fragmented and of relatively recent origin, such as the remains of World War I soldiers or lost mountaineers. Ice patches, on the other hand, are stationary accumulations of ice that are frozen to the ground. They form at high altitudes where more snow accumulates in winter than melts in summer. Over centuries and millennia, this snow compacts into dense, stable ice, creating a perfect, non-destructive deep freeze.

Anything lost in the snow on these ice patches—a stray arrow from a hunt, a dropped mitten, or even a person who met an unfortunate end—can become entombed within this frozen archive. Encased in ice, these organic materials are shielded from the primary agents of decay: oxygen, moisture, and microbial activity. This is why cryo-archaeology is yielding artifacts of a quality and completeness rarely seen in traditional archaeology, where such materials have long since rotted away.

However, the very force that is revealing these treasures is also their greatest threat. The relentless rise in global temperatures is causing these ancient ice patches to melt at an unprecedented rate. For archaeologists, this is a double-edged sword. The melting ice is peeling back the layers of time, exposing artifacts that have not seen the light of day for thousands of years. But with this exposure comes an immediate and irreversible process of decay.

Once freed from their icy tomb, these organic artifacts are suddenly subjected to the harsh alpine environment. Sunlight, wind, rain, and fluctuating temperatures trigger rapid deterioration. Delicate materials like feathers and textiles can disintegrate in a matter of a few years, if not sooner. Wood cracks and warps, and leather turns brittle. It is a desperate race against time, as there are hundreds of thousands of ice patches around the world with the potential to hold archaeological treasures, but only a handful of specialists dedicated to finding and preserving them. The melting of these frozen archives represents not just a scientific opportunity, but an archaeological emergency.

A Window into Prehistoric Hunting: The Arsenal of Ancient Alpine Hunters

The artifacts emerging from the ice are rewriting our understanding of ancient human life in high-altitude environments, particularly in the realm of hunting technology. These frozen landscapes, often seen as barren and inhospitable, were in fact vital hunting grounds for our ancestors. Animals like caribou and reindeer would congregate on the ice patches in the summer months to escape the heat and torment of biting insects in the valleys below. Ancient hunters knew this, and they followed their prey into the mountains, leaving behind a remarkable record of their ingenuity and skill.

Atlatls and Darts: The Ancient Spear-Thrower

Long before the bow and arrow became the dominant hunting tool, ancient hunters in many parts of the world, including the Yukon, relied on the atlatl, or spear-thrower. This device, essentially a wooden shaft with a hook at one end, acted as a lever to propel a long, flexible dart with much greater force and velocity than could be achieved by throwing with the arm alone. The Yukon ice patches, in particular, have yielded an astonishing collection of atlatl darts, some dating back as far as 9,000 years.

These are not simple spears. The darts found in the Yukon are complex, composite weapons, meticulously crafted from materials chosen for their specific properties. The shafts were often made from birch or willow saplings, carefully tapered for aerodynamic flight. Some are so well-preserved that they still retain their fletching—feathers that stabilized the dart in the air—and the sinew bindings that held them in place. The discovery of these complete weapons provides an unparalleled insight into their construction. Archaeologists are no longer limited to hypothesizing about how these tools were made; they can now see the techniques firsthand.

One of the most fascinating discoveries relates to the adhesives used in atlatl construction. A 6,000-year-old atlatl dart found in the Yukon revealed the use of beaver castoreum, a sticky secretion from beavers, to bind the different components of the dart together. This was the first time this material had been found on an ancient hunting tool, demonstrating a sophisticated knowledge of natural resources. Other darts show the use of a mixture of spruce resin, red ochre, and animal fats.

The tips of these darts were equally varied, with some featuring stone points and others points made from bone or antler. The a 1,000-year-old atlatl dart found in the Yukon was so complete it had its wooden shaft, stone tip, sinew, and feathers all intact. Some darts even show evidence of having killed caribou, with animal hair found wedged between the point and the shaft, indicating that they were used multiple times.

Bows and Arrows: A Technological Revolution

The cryo-archaeological record also documents a major technological shift in hunting: the adoption of the bow and arrow. In the Yukon, this transition appears to have been abrupt, with the atlatl being entirely replaced by the bow and arrow around 1,200 years ago. In Norway, the use of bows and arrows in the high mountains dates back even further, with some arrows being 6,000 years old.

The melting ice has revealed a veritable arsenal of ancient archery equipment. In Norway alone, hundreds of complete arrows have been found, some dating to the Neolithic period. These arrows showcase a remarkable diversity of designs and materials. Arrowheads have been found made of slate, iron, bone, and even copper. One particularly rare find was a Viking-era arrow with a three-bladed arrowhead, a design previously known but seldom seen.

The preservation is so exceptional that many arrows still have their wooden shafts, the sinew wrappings that attached the arrowhead, and in some cases, even the delicate feathers of the fletching. The types of wood used, such as elm from lower elevations, and the materials for the points, like slate from local hillsides, show that ancient archers had an intimate knowledge of their environment and used locally sourced materials to create complex weapons systems.

These finds do more than just illustrate the tools themselves; they provide a "goldmine of information about ancient archery techniques." The different arrowhead shapes were likely designed for specific purposes or types of prey, and the overall construction of the arrows reveals a deep understanding of ballistics and aerodynamics.

Hunting Strategies: Scaring Sticks and Blinds

Beyond the weapons themselves, cryo-archaeology is revealing the clever strategies ancient people employed to hunt in the challenging alpine environment. In the mountains of Norway, archaeologists have discovered hundreds of "scaring sticks." These are long wooden sticks, often with a movable object like a thin wooden flag attached to the top, that were set up in lines on the ice. The movement of the flags in the wind would have made the reindeer uneasy, as any movement in the barren landscape above the treeline signaled danger. These lines of scaring sticks were used to guide the herds of reindeer towards areas where hunters were lying in wait.

And where were these hunters hiding? In stone-built hunting blinds, the remains of which have also been found melting out of the ice. These simple but effective structures would have made the hunters "invisible" to the approaching reindeer, allowing them to get close enough for a shot with their bows and arrows. The discovery of these scaring sticks and hunting blinds, some of which are around 1,500 years old, provides concrete evidence of organized, large-scale hunting operations in the Iron Age.

Life on the Move: Skis, Clothing, and Transport

The story of high-altitude life revealed by cryo-archaeology is not just about the hunt itself, but also about how people traveled and survived in these extreme environments. Among the most spectacular finds from the Norwegian ice are prehistoric skis. In one instance, at the Digervarden ice patch, archaeologists found a 1,300-year-old ski in 2014. Incredibly, in 2021, they found its mate just a few feet away, completing the best-preserved pair of prehistoric skis in the world. These skis, complete with their birch and leather bindings, show signs of extensive repairs, indicating they were a valuable and well-used means of transportation. The discovery of these skis, along with fragments of a sled, opens up the possibility that these mountain routes were not only for hunting but also for transport.

The clothing found in the ice is equally revelatory. In Norway, a 1,700-year-old woolen tunic, the oldest piece of clothing ever found in the country, was discovered at the Lendbreen ice patch. Knitted mittens and leather shoes have also been found, providing a tangible connection to the people who wore them. These garments, designed for warmth and durability, are a testament to the skill and resourcefulness of ancient textile workers.

The picture that emerges from these finds is one of a people who were not just surviving in the mountains, but thriving. They possessed a sophisticated understanding of their environment, the behavior of the animals they hunted, and the materials at their disposal. They were skilled engineers, crafting complex tools and equipment to master a challenging landscape.

Case Studies: Reading the Stories in the Ice

While individual artifacts provide fascinating glimpses into the past, it is the discovery of collections of artifacts and human remains at specific sites that allows archaeologists to piece together more complete narratives. Several key sites around the world have become focal points for cryo-archaeological research, each telling a unique story.

Ötzi the Iceman: A Copper Age Cold Case

No discussion of cryo-archaeology would be complete without mentioning Ötzi the Iceman, arguably the most famous archaeological discovery to emerge from the ice. Found by hikers in the Ötztal Alps on the border of Austria and Italy in 1991, Ötzi is the naturally preserved mummy of a man who lived around 5,300 years ago. His body, along with his clothing and a complete set of gear, was so perfectly preserved that he has offered an unprecedented view into the European Copper Age.

Ötzi was a man of about 45, stood 5 feet 3 inches tall, and suffered from various ailments, including arthritis and whipworm. His lungs were coated in soot, suggesting a life spent around open fires. But it was not illness that claimed his life. An arrowhead lodged in his left shoulder, which severed an artery, reveals that Ötzi was murdered, bleeding to death in the high mountains. DNA analysis of his gear has even revealed traces of blood from at least four other people, suggesting a violent and desperate final struggle.

His clothing was a masterpiece of prehistoric tailoring. He wore a coat and leggings made from sheep and goat leather, a bearskin cap, and a loincloth of sheepskin. His shoes were remarkably sophisticated, with bearskin soles, deerskin panels, and a bark-string netting, all insulated with soft grass that functioned like socks. DNA analysis of his garments has shown that they were made from at least five different species of animals, including domesticated sheep, goats, and cattle, as well as wild brown bear and roe deer. This suggests a "picky" and sophisticated approach to materials, with different animal hides chosen for their specific properties, such as durability or warmth.

Ötzi's equipment was equally impressive. He carried a copper-bladed axe, a flint dagger, a quiver full of arrows (some unfinished), and a longbow. The copper axe, in particular, was a sign of high status and a remarkable piece of Chalcolithic technology. The sheer wealth of information gleaned from this single individual has been revolutionary for archaeology. Ötzi is not just a mummy; he is a time traveler who has given us a high-definition snapshot of a lost world.

The Lendbreen Ice Pass: A Lost Viking Highway

For a long time, it was assumed that most high-altitude ice patch sites were primarily used for hunting. The discovery of the Lendbreen ice patch in Norway, however, has completely upended this assumption. As the ice at Lendbreen has retreated, it has revealed not a hunting ground, but a bustling mountain pass—a lost Viking highway.

First identified in 2011 with the discovery of a 1,700-year-old tunic, the site has since yielded over 1,000 artifacts, making it one of the most productive ice patch sites in the world. The finds at Lendbreen paint a vivid picture of a major transportation route used by farmers, traders, and herders between 300 and 1500 AD, with a peak in traffic around the year 1000, during the height of the Viking Age.

The variety of artifacts is astonishing. In addition to hunting arrows, archaeologists have found everyday items like woolen mittens, leather shoes, kitchen utensils, and even a distaff for spinning wool. Horse-related equipment is particularly abundant, including horseshoes, horse snowshoes, and even a large amount of preserved horse dung, which provides insights into the diet of these ancient pack animals. Remnants of a sled and stone-built cairns that marked the path further confirm its use as a major thoroughfare.

The Lendbreen finds demonstrate a level of mobility and trade in the Viking Age that was previously unimagined for such a remote and challenging environment. The pass likely connected inland farming communities with coastal areas, facilitating the movement of goods and people. The use of the pass declined after the 14th century, likely due to a combination of climate cooling during the "Little Ice Age" and the devastating impact of the Black Death, which would have disrupted trade and reduced populations. Lendbreen is a poignant reminder that even the most seemingly desolate landscapes have been an integral part of human history.

The Yukon Ice Patches: A 9,000-Year Record of Hunting

In the southern Yukon, a series of ice patches have provided an exceptionally long and detailed record of Indigenous hunting practices, stretching back an incredible 9,000 years. Discovered in 1997, these sites have yielded hundreds of artifacts, primarily ancient hunting weapons, that are so well-preserved they still retain their wood, bone, antler, sinew, and feather components.

The Yukon Ice Patch Project is a model of collaborative archaeology, involving a partnership between archaeologists and six Yukon First Nations, on whose traditional territory the ice patches are located. This collaboration ensures that the research is conducted with respect for Indigenous cultural values and that the knowledge gained is shared with the descendant communities.

The artifacts from the Yukon have provided crucial insights into the evolution of hunting technology in the region. The collection showcases the transition from the atlatl and dart, which were used for over 7,000 years, to the bow and arrow, which appeared abruptly around 1,200 years ago. The sheer number and variety of atlatl darts found have allowed for a detailed analysis of their construction, revealing different techniques for shaft design, wood selection, and point styles.

More recent finds have included a nearly 1,000-year-old arrow with a copper end blade, one of the earliest examples of copper metallurgy found in the Yukon. This find was particularly fortuitous, as the ice patch where it was discovered melted away completely shortly after, highlighting the urgency of this research. The Yukon ice patches are a powerful testament to the long and rich history of the First Nations people in this region and their deep connection to the alpine environment.

Kwäday Dän Ts'ìnchi ("Long Ago Person Found"): A Story of Collaboration

In 1999, another remarkable discovery was made in a glacier in Tatshenshini-Alsek Provincial Park, British Columbia: the frozen remains of a young man who died between 300 and 550 years ago. The Champagne and Aishihik First Nations named him Kwäday Dän Ts'ìnchi, meaning "Long Ago Person Found."

From the very beginning, the discovery of Kwäday Dän Ts'ìnchi set a new standard for ethical and collaborative cryo-archaeology. Because the remains were found in their traditional territory, the Champagne and Aishihik First Nations took the lead in managing the find, in partnership with the British Columbia government. This ensured that the scientific study of the remains and artifacts was conducted in a way that respected First Nations cultural values.

Studies of Kwäday Dän Ts'ìnchi, who was in his late teens or early twenties when he died, revealed a great deal about his life. Analysis of his diet showed that he had spent most of his life on the coast, eating a diet rich in seafood, but had traveled inland in the months before his death. This scientific evidence aligns perfectly with the oral histories of the local Tlingit and Champagne and Aishihik people, which speak of extensive trade and travel between coastal and inland groups.

His belongings included a robe made from the skins of 95 arctic ground squirrels, a woven spruce root hat, and an iron-bladed knife. DNA testing of over 240 volunteers from the local First Nations communities identified 17 living individuals who are related to Kwäday Dän Ts'ìnchi through their direct maternal line. After the scientific studies were completed, his remains were cremated and returned to the glacier where he was found, in accordance with the wishes of the First Nations. The story of Kwäday Dän Ts'ìnchi is a powerful example of how scientific research and Indigenous heritage can come together to honor the past.

The Schnidejoch Pass: Pushing Back Timelines

The discoveries at the Schnidejoch pass in the Swiss Alps have pushed back the timeline for human activity in the high mountains even further. Since 2003, finds from this melting ice patch have revealed that people were crossing this high-altitude pass as far back as 4,800 BC, predating Ötzi the Iceman by some 1,500 years.

The artifacts from Schnidejoch span a period of 6,000 years and include items from the Neolithic, Bronze Age, Iron Age, Roman times, and the Middle Ages. Among the oldest finds are a birch bark quiver for arrows, and fragments of leather shoes and leggings, all dating to the 5th millennium BC. DNA analysis of the 5,000-year-old leggings showed they were made of goatskin from a breed previously thought to be common only in East Asia, suggesting a greater diversity of goat breeds in ancient Europe than was previously known.

The Schnidejoch finds are a crucial piece of the puzzle for understanding the prehistory of the Alps, providing a link between Neolithic lake-dwelling settlements in northern Switzerland and settlements from the same era in the Rhone valley to the south. They demonstrate that high-altitude mountain passes were being used for travel and trade much earlier than previously thought, and that these seemingly inhospitable environments were an integral part of the ancient European landscape.

The Science of Ice and Time: How Cryo-Archaeologists Work

Cryo-archaeology is a field that demands a unique blend of traditional archaeological skills and cutting-edge scientific techniques. The process of finding, excavating, and analyzing artifacts from the ice is a complex and multidisciplinary endeavor.

Finding the Sites: From Satellites to Shoe-Leather

With thousands of potential ice patch sites scattered across the world's mountain ranges, a key challenge for cryo-archaeologists is knowing where to look. In recent years, remote sensing has become an invaluable tool for this purpose. Archaeologists can use satellite imagery, such as that from Landsat, to monitor the melting of ice patches over time and identify areas of significant retreat. By comparing images from different years, they can pinpoint locations where ancient ice is being exposed, increasing the likelihood of finding artifacts.

Predictive modeling is another powerful tool. By analyzing the characteristics of known ice patch archaeological sites, such as elevation, slope, and proximity to traditional hunting areas, archaeologists can create models that predict other locations with a high potential for finds. These models often incorporate data on caribou or reindeer habitats, as the presence of these animals was a key reason for ancient humans to venture into the high mountains.

However, as sophisticated as these technologies are, they are no substitute for on-the-ground fieldwork. Many discoveries are still made through systematic surveys, where teams of archaeologists walk the edges of melting ice patches, their eyes peeled for any sign of human activity. The "Secrets of the Ice" program in Norway, for example, conducts annual surveys during a narrow window in late summer when the previous winter's snow has melted but the new snows have not yet begun to fall. This work is physically demanding, often requiring long hikes into remote and rugged terrain.

Fieldwork in Extreme Environments: A Race Against Decay

Once a site has been identified, the real race against time begins. The excavation of frozen artifacts is a delicate process. Sometimes, artifacts are found lying on the ground in front of the ice, having been washed out by meltwater. In other cases, they may be found on the surface of the ice itself, a sign that the melt has reached layers that have been frozen for centuries.

The excavation itself requires specialized techniques. For artifacts still embedded in the ice, archaeologists may use lukewarm water to carefully melt the surrounding ice. The goal is to remove the object with as little disturbance as possible. Once an artifact is removed from the ice, its location is meticulously recorded using high-precision GPS. This context is crucial for understanding the relationship between different finds and for reconstructing the history of the site.

Conservation in the Field: First Aid for Fragile Finds

Perhaps the most critical aspect of cryo-archaeology is the immediate conservation of the organic artifacts once they are excavated. These waterlogged materials are extremely fragile and will begin to deteriorate rapidly upon exposure to air. To prevent this, a strict protocol for on-site conservation must be followed.

The basic principle is to keep wet things wet. Organic artifacts like wood and leather are carefully packed to maintain their moisture levels. Sometimes, this involves using the surrounding soil to support the object and prevent it from collapsing. In some cases, artifacts and the soil around them have been removed as a single block, using materials like polyurethane foam to create a supportive casing.

The goal is to get the artifacts to a conservation laboratory as quickly as possible, where they can undergo more intensive treatment. There, conservators use a variety of techniques to stabilize the materials. For waterlogged wood and leather, a common method is to impregnate the object with a substance like polyethylene glycol (PEG), a synthetic wax that replaces the water in the cells and provides structural support. The object is then freeze-dried to remove the remaining moisture without causing shrinkage or cracking.

In the Lab: Deciphering the Clues

Once the artifacts are stabilized, a battery of scientific analyses can begin, each providing a different piece of the puzzle.

Radiocarbon Dating: This is the workhorse of cryo-archaeology, allowing scientists to determine the age of organic materials with a high degree of accuracy. The fact that the artifacts are themselves organic means they can be dated directly, which is a significant advantage over sites where only stone tools are found.
DNA Analysis: This powerful technique has revolutionized our understanding of cryo-archaeological finds. DNA can be extracted from wood, leather, textiles, and even the stomach contents of ice mummies. This can reveal the species of animals used to make clothing, the types of plants and animals that made up an ancient person's diet, and even the ancestral connections between ancient individuals and modern populations, as was done with Kwäday Dän Ts'ìnchi.
Isotopic Analysis: By analyzing the ratios of different isotopes of elements like strontium, oxygen, and carbon in human remains and artifacts, scientists can trace the geographic origins of people and materials. This is how they determined that Ötzi likely grew up in a different valley from where he died, and that Kwäday Dän Ts'ìnchi had traveled between the coast and the interior.
Pollen and Paleo-environmental Analysis: The ice itself is an archive of past environments. By analyzing pollen, volcanic dust, and other materials trapped in the ice cores, scientists can reconstruct the climate and vegetation of the past. This provides crucial context for understanding the world in which these ancient people lived.

Cryo-Archaeology in Crisis: The Urgent Need for Action

Despite the excitement of the discoveries, the field of cryo-archaeology is facing a profound crisis. The accelerating pace of climate change means that ice patches around the world are disappearing at an alarming rate, and with them, an irreplaceable part of our shared human heritage.

The scale of the problem is immense. There are thousands of ice patches that could potentially contain archaeological material, but only a tiny fraction of them are being monitored. The number of specialists in glacial archaeology is small, and the funding for this type of research is often limited and sporadic. This means that countless artifacts are likely melting out of the ice and decaying into dust before anyone has a chance to find them.

The increased accessibility of these remote sites also brings with it the threat of looting. As the ice melts, these once-hidden treasures become vulnerable to theft. Looters, often using destructive methods, can remove artifacts from their context, erasing the historical information they contain forever. In some regions, this has become a serious problem, prompting calls for increased surveillance and the official protection of these vulnerable sites.

In the face of this crisis, there is an urgent need for more resources and international cooperation to identify, excavate, and preserve these sites before they are lost forever. There are also innovative efforts underway to mitigate the effects of melting. One such project is "Glacial Threads," an initiative by the Lenzing Group in Austria. This project has developed biodegradable geotextiles made from wood-based cellulose fibers that can be used to cover glaciers and ice patches, reflecting sunlight and slowing the rate of melting. A trial on the Stubai Glacier showed that this material could prevent up to four meters of ice from melting in a season, without leaching microplastics into the environment like traditional petroleum-based geotextiles. The project is even exploring ways to recycle these used geotextiles into new garments, creating a circular economy for glacier protection. While such measures may not be a solution for all ice patches, they represent a creative and proactive approach to a daunting problem.

Conclusion: The Enduring Legacy of Our Ancestors in a Warming World

Cryo-archaeology is a field born of a global crisis, a silver lining on a very dark cloud. The melting ice is a profound and devastating symptom of our planet's changing climate, a tangible manifestation of a future fraught with uncertainty. Yet, in its retreat, the ice is also offering us a gift: a direct and intimate connection to our distant past.

The artifacts emerging from the world's mountain glaciers and ice patches are more than just archaeological curiosities. They are the tangible remnants of lives lived, of challenges overcome, and of an ingenuity that allowed our ancestors to thrive in some of the most unforgiving environments on Earth. The intricate construction of an atlatl dart from the Yukon, the sophisticated design of Ötzi's leather shoes, the clever strategy of the Norwegian reindeer hunters with their scaring sticks and blinds—all speak to a deep and sophisticated knowledge of the natural world.

These finds are rewriting the history books, pushing back timelines for human activity in the high mountains, revealing lost trade routes, and providing an unparalleled level of detail about the daily lives of ancient people. They are a testament to human resilience and adaptability, a reminder that we have always been a species on the move, exploring, innovating, and making a home in every corner of the planet.

But the story of cryo-archaeology is also a cautionary tale. The same forces that are revealing these ancient secrets are also threatening to erase them forever. The race to save these frozen archives is a race against our own impact on the planet. The melting ice is not just a gateway to the past; it is a stark and urgent warning about our future. As we marvel at the treasures emerging from their frozen slumber, we are also being called to confront the consequences of our actions and to take seriously the challenge of preserving both our planet's natural and cultural heritage for generations to come. The stories frozen in the ice are, in the end, our own story, and it is a story that is melting away before our very eyes.