f you’re going to travel all the way to Alaska—board a helicopter, lift off over mountains, and touch down on ancient ice—why would you only stay for 25 minutes?
This couple knew exactly what they wanted: time.
Not just for photos, but for presence.
They chose the extended 85-minute helicopter glacier elopement, trading a quick landing for a slow, immersive experience—ample time to breathe the air, explore the textures of the ice, and let the magnitude of Alaska actually sink in. No watches. No rushing back to the helicopter. Just the quiet hum of wind over blue ice and vows spoken in a place that has existed long before us and will remain long after.
That extra time changes everything.
It allows space for awe. For stillness. For moments that don’t feel staged or hurried—but earned.
After lifting off the glacier, we continued the adventure back on land, stopping near the remnants of old gold mines, where rusted history and wild landscapes collide. The contrast was striking: from pristine ice to weathered relics, Alaska telling its story in layers.
We ended the day at the North Douglas waterfall, where the sound of cascading water wrapped the day up perfectly—grounding, powerful, alive.
And then… the creative spark hit.
They trusted me enough to say yes to something extra: a bonus video, inspired by a Planet Earth–style documentary, but make it Wild Alaska. Cinematic, reverent, and untamed—less wedding film, more nature documentary with love at its center. The kind of piece that feels like it belongs on a big screen, narrated by the landscape itself.
This is what happens when couples choose depth over speed.
When they honor the journey, not just the checklist.
Alaska rewards that kind of intention—every single time.
An unhurried vow on ancient ice—because Alaska isn’t meant to be rushed.
