The Cold

When you think of Alaska, the first thing that comes to mind is SNOW. Don't tell me otherwise, it's a given fact that the white covered mountains, the knockabout scenery with many feet of snow and endless glaciers, is what cold and nordic Alaksa is all about.

When we put second toughts to what 'Alaksa' stands for we come up with things like: Wilderness, uninterrupted forrests, Brown and Black bears, Bald Eagles, Wild Salmon, Eskimo's, isolated little coastal towns, stark tundraf, friendly and no-frills people, continuing coastline, moose filled wetlands, whale/orca/sealion/otter filled oceans, goldmining, dog muching, warm clothing, hot chocolate, cabins with fires and the unforgettable Northern lights.

Driving on Ice with the Silver Spirit.

But the cold stays the main focus point.
For most of the year, this state is lived with many layers of clothing, with shoes that protect you from the permafrost or hardpacked snowy ground, with hats that make your hair fizz, with gloves that need to be wind and water resistant. For almost eight months people live inside when there is no need to go outside. They enjoy the sports and activities that keep you moving or busy ( and trust me, there are plenty), but for just lounging or star gazing its neccesary to find a warm fire place or a car with roof window.

Many of you may wonder how I'm doing with all those conditions. The month of November is only two days away, so you can state that the cold is here alright. The coldest I've felt so far is -12C, not too bad for a place where it could have been -30C easily at the same time of year. We had a long Indian summer and it seems to carry into the winter. Lucky me!

When I wake up in the morning my breath, that fogs up the windows, is frozen. I peek out from my cozy bed and feel the icy cold tinkle in my nose. Sometimes there is ice on the outside too, but the air here is very dry, hardly any humidity which is good. Dampness with this cold is fatal. I look at my alarmclock to see what kind off coldness I'm fighting off and then a period of building up courage is needed before I put myself to open up the cocoon with all my warm body heat. It's already 9:30 most of the time, any earlier would mean getting up without any sun.

I undo my warm body from the little things I wear while sleeping and wrap it in a regular layer of clothing before I start to applay winter jackets, gloves and a hat straight after that. Especially putting on my socks and shoes, right after they are awake and feebling with fresh air and freedom, is a sorrow feeling that makes me realize I could never live for years in this climate. So there were are, in a freshly fallen layer of snow. My pumpkin (it's almost Halloween here) frozen to my roof and all my water jugs filled with ice. Luckily I had been so smart to sleep with my thermos so I do have some drinkable water, without being woken by a thirsty Mr Brainfreeze. My hands are already cold, no matter how long or how warm I was, or how busy I stay, five minutes outside and my hands are cold to the touch, ten minutes more and they are frozen to the bone. Damn it, stupid circulation.
I start scraping the ice from my windows, inside, outside, side mirrors, brush the snow from the hood and lights and we're ready to go.

She starts EVERY DAY without a click, without a sputter, without complaint. She is my queen, she is my home, I could never do this without her faithfull being.

My preferred order of starting the day is: getting dressed, make myself familiar with the view I parked my bedroom in the night before and then to make tea. Well, not here. Here I can't wait to have the above actions done so I can start driving, which means: heating up my house. It won't take much, maybe ten minutes, before I can undo my jacket, take my scarf off and relax my tense shoulders. Twenty minutes and its puffing hot in the car. Time to stop and make tea, eat some cereal with ice-yoghurt.

The road-work-people dress up like micheline poppetjes.

With this temperature the roadhouses, bars and petrol stations look very inviting. I've never stoped so many times to get hot water for tea, sit behind a window with a book, eat soup at the only diner in town or knit a new scarf in the local bar. It makes that I do see a site of the little towns otherwise hidden from me. It also means that my wallet empties a little faster. But the most important side is that I still meet all those interesting people. Normally busy outside, soaking up the sun, now you find them inside, soaking up some beer or the small-town gossip. The people here have extreme welcoming arms for everything thats new, everything that will brake the normal roll of dayly life. Of course, because every body knows every body, who should be in what car and with whom, it must be obvious that this Silver Camry from Alberta with a pumpkin on the roof is an out-of-townie. I've been asked by qurious girls and by hunting man "Why are you traveling here in the winter?"
Do they forget how pretty their country is, ESPECIALLY in wintertime. Or is it really that seldom to see a roamer pass by. Its cool to be one of the last departing sight-seeers.The snow is the most powdery I've ever seen. The roads are patchworks of ice and snow. Driving slow with my two-wheel drive and unstudded tires is a must. I love this world too much to do different.

Yes, this is the highway.

The wind picks up the powder and swirls it over the road, so it looks like I'm following ice-snakes. In the air big sparkling clouds are blown gracefully shaped or horizontally harsh. Rivers and lakes are frozen, a few more weeks and you can drive your vehicle to the middle of the lake to go ice fishing from your car window. Icepegs are starting to form on the roofs and dangling from your car when you stop for longer than half an hour, no leaves are to be found but the little birds still thrive ( I've been wondering how they surrender enough bodyfat to defreeze of their branches each morning). And those branches, wow, they are so pretty with the frost on them. When the sun shines from behind it seems like they are heavenly touched. A white world that sparks with the smallest most colorful speks possible.

The space under my chair is called: 'The fridge' Here is stays most cool and so its a most perfect spot for my fruit, veggies, cheese and yoghurt. But here I have to change the name to freezer. I have new invented popsicles: celery, carrots, apples and cucumber.

Its a little over-use right now, so sometimes I get a little angy about this one.
When its -50F its pretty hard to start up your car, thats why all cars here have a plug hanging from their hoot. Its attacked to a block heater which heats up the water in the block and circulates it through the engine. They have a contact outside their house or work, plug it in for half an hour and can start without problem. Pan heaters for the different fluids and electric blankets are common too.
When those Alaskans go shopping, for lunch or to the library for a new load of books, they leave the engine running.....yes, even for an hour or longer. I find it very hard to swallow this, especially now when the temperature is not even under 15F!

By 6:30pm the day is winding down, the sun has not been higher then what Holland would call a ten in the morning sun, but it has been good to get that light and warmth. Now that it is setting, the shadows take over and the town lights try to overrule the full moon; no way they will achieve this quest, the whiteness around votes and reflect their skyward friend in all directions.
For me? Well, when all the bars in town are discovered, or the doors will be closed, or maybe I'm nowhere near inside facilities. For me it's time to find my spot to park for the night (where can I park best to not be snowed in when something might fall down) and make sure my belly is full before the heat has totally disappeared from the car. It will be half an hour to 45 minutes before it's too cold to sit behind the wheel and write or read. Only 9pm and I crawl into my nest, it's important that you go to bed warm, if you're cold it will take forever to warm up. With my headlamp I read untill my hands get too cold.

If you would look into my back window you would see a green hat and a sliver of breath come out from under the blankets. I'm warm in there with Beertje Pippeloentje. Thinking and smiling about another day spend on this endless adventure called life. And then o believe that it gets -40C (-50F) here, brrrr.