The Long Dark Night

Happy Winter Solstice!

Otherwise known here as the beginning of the end of the long dark night. In celebration of the day I took my lunch break by ski around 1pm when you could almost tell the sun had risen. We've got 5hours and some odd minutes of daylight at the moment - not bad really from other places I've lived - and by January 1 we will have gained 12 more minutes. This is worth celebrating. With fire and malted beer and good warm foods and laughter and friends.

'Tis of course the season for things such as:
-funny takes on holiday songs such as "the 12 days of Christmas my ex-governor brought to me" over at The Mudflats
-listening to King Island Christmas (over here)
-making chocolate truffles and packing them two to a cute little box and giving them out to all and sundry: my favorite gift
-office holiday parties and the attendant white elephant gift giving: this year at the big boss's not quite completed house
-a flurry of mail: all of his family and all of my family this year got silly pictures of us dancing in the snow as did some of our friends.
-the X-mas bird count: this year we saw 7 ravens and 2 redpolls and at -27F we considered that huge. However, it was an excellent excuse to go for a ski along the bluff.
-Lebkuechen, the food I still miss from living in Germany at this time of year: available this year in Los Anchorage!
-decorating the house with Santa riding on every imaginable creature (whales to mooses)
-skiing, skiing, skiing, and sauna-ing....and then repeating!
-contemplating how much my life has changed in one year...but that's for another post!

Let it snow, Let it snow!

I've made it safely home despite a white knuckle drive from Los Anchorage after my two conferences and a brief bout of not-quite-the-flu. I was not too keen on the snow when driving home. It is always a little scary when you only know where the side of the road is when you drive over the rumble strip. It makes one thankful for rumble strips in a way that one normally is not. Perhaps it wasn't too good of an idea to listen to an audio book that involved a guy deciding to cut off his arm to escape from a canyon (Aaron Ralston). I was as relieved to skid into my drive as the Disreputables and my love were. I was wired for half the night on adrenaline.

Now however, big fat fluffy flakes and snow piled higher then my knees, slush rushing down the increasingly constricted river, and lots of white stuff just makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I love snow. I really do. Ask anyone who went to undergrad with me where there was no snow. I love snow, I love winter. Tomorrow the skis are coming out!

Mercury & Alkali

I find it amusing that I can tell if it's getting below -5F (approx. -21C) because after that temperature the colder it gets the warmer the indoor, alkaline battery operated thermometer at work goes up. So currently it's -20F (approx. -29C which is the D.Dog's favorite all around temperature to lounge around outside in) and the indoor thermometer reads 68F (20C)! Which it's clearly not because I daren't even take my long underwear off indoors and I refuse to even cross the parking lot without my hat. So instead I peer out in the dark at the bi-metallic sensor which currently is accurate. But sadly, this thermometer, like all I've ever seen commercially available, stops at -60F (approx. -51C). Which is clearly not good enough here because we bury the needle at least once a winter. Mercury is no good either - it freezes at -39C (-38.15F), where both Fahrenheit and Celsius are almost the equal.

Perhaps it's time to get an alcohol thermometer - do you think I can make my own? It has a suitably low freezing point ( -113C , approx. -171F) - the weather gods have mercy on us if we ever get to that limit!

Snow & Cold

This morning I wake to snow sifting down from the sky the way powdered sugar does for a cake, steady and even, light, coating everything. I do not find this out until the Disreputable Dog and I set out on our morning walk. It's funny how I've forgotten some of the characteristics of cold and how some of the habits have stayed with me. As I unpacked I was absolutely delighted to find my thick down coat and heavy warm boots as my Colorado versions were simply not enough to keep me warm. As I continued to unpack I found more things: long underwear, cutoff sock ankles for that space on one's wrist between glove and coat, several different thicknesses of hats each for a certain temperature range and likewise a set of gloves. When at the coldest three of each of these together makes the perfect pair. I had forgotten I had all these layers, forgotten I needed them, but luckily, there they are. And in the pocket of the coats a headlamp, a habit I continued in Colorado out of sheer habit. One can always use a headlamp somewhere in winter and it's no fun being caught without one.

I am delighted with having, for the first time, a garage for my truck. I never had any particular interest in garages but I can honestly say that it is a pleasure to get into a non-frozen car and not worry about cracking the plastic seat belt cover by hitting it with my bag when the temperature is 0F (-18C) or below. It is nice not to have to scrape the windows clean or to plug the car in at night to a timer so that it warms up enough to start (although I still do this at work). I like having round tires in the morning, not square ones that must be gently warmed up.

Tonight I was tired, mentally, and I new I needed exercise but the gym, a cold empty room at a Bible College with dust bunnies coating the ground and an erie empty feeling, did not appeal to me at all. So instead I went skiing with the Disreputable Dog. Darkness had already started to fall but luckily the shadow twilight phase lasts a long time and afterwards the snow is still quite bright with a little moonlight. By the end of our hour and half ski it had gotten difficult to see. Not only was I stubborn and refusing to turn on my headlamp but the ice crystals on my eyelashes were starting to freeze together.

First Snow

It's here - the first snows above 8,000ft in elevation. We even had storm warnings this weekend. I hear from my friends in Fairbanks that there is already enough snow on the ski trails to make them usable.

Winter Hike

The muffled silence of a snowy winter day, thick flakes, falling like powdered sugar sifted from on high, freshly minted footprints in a magical world of white draped boughs of trees and the joyous bounding of dogs. I'd forgotten the wonders of a pinon-juniper forest, of the sagebrush draped landscape. Of trees with vermilion colored trunks twisted like old swinging ropes with age, the red dirt beneath the snow brilliant in it's contrast. There, too, were the round holes created by the Northern Flicker, a woodpecker, soft tooth scratches of the porcupine along the lower reaches of a tree, and the long claw marks of a black bear marking it's territory. The birds and rodents were absolutely silent, safely asleep in their holes and perches, waiting out the brunt of the storm. As we reached the top of the cliff the clouds began to rise off the valley below, exposing the sinewy wind of the river below and the frosted ranch fields and even the damp asphalt of the highway which from that distance looked like a kind of river itself but the mountains remained shrouded.

* * * *

On a totally different note, many of you will be pleased to hear that I have joined a blog feeder. I am still trying to figure it all out. Why do some blogs have three or four feeds while others only one? Is there one format that is better then the rest (rss versus atom, etc). Please enlighten me if you know.

Rocky Mountain Brilliance

Hoar frost on top of river ice

The other day I was talking to my bother-in-law (no, that's not a typo). I was exclaiming about how bright it is outside. He looked at me as if I was daft. "It's snowing out" he said "and it's cloudy. There's no sun." And he was absolutely correct. When it's overcast and snowing out here it is sooooo much brighter then anything we've seen in a long while in the latitudes north of 60 degrees even when the sun is out in full force. I was forced to wear sunglasses on cloudy days initially because my eyes could not adjust to the beautiful brightness. When people ask me why I'm hear I tell them it's to replenish my Vitamin D and I'm not entirely joking. It's brilliant here when the sun is out and high in the sky reflecting off the powdered sugar light snow. It's such a gift, all this daylight, all this time to get out and play under wide skies when I get bogged down by job applications and need a break.

It's interesting to me, having grown up in this valley, how I seem to have lost it's topography. I once knew it's trails and secrets intimately. If someone suggested a place to hike or ski I could imagine it's slope, the trail head, the creek's that flowed past it, whether the snow stayed late or melted early. Now when people mention these names I can no longer remember how to get there or any of the other details. It saddens me. I have been so many places and explored so many places since I left that those I grew up with are no longer so definitive in my mind and yet the spirit of them remains. So many of the open places have gone, vanished beneath urban sprawl. It seems that every subdivision is named after the species of wildlife it displaced: Elk Run, Coyote Lane, Cougar Hollow, Springing Deer. There are new trails through the pasture lands and the golf courses, rails to trails, new-old places to explore.

Happy Winter Solstice!

Happy Winter Solstice!

Don't believe when people tell you this is the first day of winter. It's really the hump day of winter; the begining of the end of the long dark night; the shortest day of the entire year. The day when darkness regins and the sun sleeps in.

And to my blogging friends & readers in the southern hemisphere (Hele, Gill, Parlance & Sally Forth and any others): Happy Summer Solstice!

Dark as Night

I was thinking about that phrase "as black as night" the other night when it was so dark I couldn't tell the difference between my eyes open and them closed, the kind of discombobulating darkness, where you lose the edges of space and time. It's actually quite unusual for it to be that dark at night. Usually there is some firmament of stars reflecting light, or a high cloud cover that absorbs and reflects light or even a bright moon that may make a winter's northern night seem brighter then day, bright enough to cast shadows on the snow. Often, being under the canopy of trees will make it darker but if there is even a glimmer of snow on the ground you can see your path without the aid of light and when out by the ocean the very movement of the water usually reflects light. Last night was the oily kind of darkness though that forces you to walk by feel and by sound.

I know my route fairly well. At this time of year I tend to walk the abandoned path along the shoreline precisely because it is more light and also because we are less likely to surprise a grumpy moose there and because I love walking the shoreline even in the wind with roaring waves and pounding sleet and having it mostly to ourselves. I always have a headlamp in the pockets of my winter coats because at this time of year you never know when you'll need one but I like to walk without a light. Artificial light can be so exclusive of the night and the sounds and by it's very brightness it can reduce the details of the world around. Even on this darkest of nights I left my light off.

I navigated by the feel and sound of ground under my foot. The slick, smooth accompanied by light cracking noises of the ice along the path edges, the slowly crumpling feel & muted sound of frozen grass, the firmer but yet slightly pebbled feeling and grit grinding noises of the paved path, the rough uneven surface of the rocky shore, the sound of rocks tumbling against each other. I kept the sound of the ocean, it's surface not visible, to my left as I headed out and to my right as I returned. I could not see the Disreputable Dog but I could hear the jangling of his collar in the wind and from time to time I would call him to me just to be sure. And I wondered, what does it mean when someone says "as black" or "as dark as night"? For surely this kind of night comes seldom even here when night last longer then most places.

Frozen Puddles

Sunrise this morning (taken by Nate Chambers). I

haven't downloaded my own yet.

I am usually a morning person but this chest cold in combination with the sun not bothering to rise over the mountain peaks until nigh 10:30 or 11 am is doing me in and it's only November. This morning my alarm went off first, I hit the snooze until it no longer rang, feeling the warmth of my bed. Then the paper star lamp went on bathing my room in mellow light and still I resisted opening my eyes, slipping from my dream world. The radio came on and by now the Disreputable Dog was getting anxious, stretching at maximum tag ringing capacity, pushing his wet nose under the comforter, sighing loudly. The Disreputable Cat didn't really care whether I got up or not but since she was awake it was a good time to attack my feet or to see if I would provide her with her own live heating pad. And slowly, like from the depths of a deep well, I pulled myself awake, coughing up deep meaty, almost edible coughs and reluctantly surrendered my bed. Where upon, his job done, the Disreputable Dog immediately went into his kennel and went back to sleep until summoned for his morning walk.

A November frozen shore in Quebec (2005)

For the first time in two weeks it was neither snowing nor raining and the whole world had turned crisp and twinkling with the star footprints of Jack Frost. The puddles had all frozen into panes of white that are absolutely delightful to smash. Frozen puddle jumping is one of those delightful activities that is so much fun you almost feel guilty about it. I mean, smashing puddles? That sounds almost ominous, like a predilection for violence. The Disreputable Dog, no fool, goes for the deeper puddles where there might still be some water under the freeze and digs himself a fresh drink while I happily clink and clatter through the puddles around him. We gambol our way through the frozen neighborhoods, the water saturated soil crunching delightfully beneath our feet, the streets dark and empty but for ourselves and the occasional rabbit. Sunrise was not until much later - one of the advantages of living at such high latitudes is that at this time of year, although the sun never makes it very high in the sky, there are very prolonged sunrise-sets (see top pic)...sometimes one fades into the other.

A crisp November morning in Newfoundland (2005)

Interestingly the change of seasonal light seems to have a strong effect on the animals as well as the humans. The Disreputable Cat is no longer batting the window shade over my bed two hours before I wake and seems mildly disgruntled that I do get out of bed. The Disreputable Dog likewise will sleep all morning long if my various waking devices don't go off. He only bothers to get up because he figures someone has to get my sorry bum out of bed because that's why I have all those devices going off, right? And then he promptly returns to bed, snoring slightly because he has propped his chin up on the edge of his kennel.

Blustry Day

As I drift towards a waking state I am first alerted to the noise of the wind howling outside my house, pebble sized pieces of snow and debris hitting the windows, the sound of a trash can doing cartwheels down the down the street, an odd chiming noise that comes from a loosened piece of metal roofing somewhere in the neighborhood. Unfortunately, as my rental house is not terribly well insulated (I know! I live in Alaska! What were they thinking?) I can also hear the sound of my electric box rattling as the wind moves through the walls and if it was light enough I would see my curtained doorway blowing gently. I'm just glad that the wind didn't blow the window open in the middle of the night as it has done in the past, cold air rushing into my cozy bedroom peace and me having to stumble into my layers and go outside and shove it closed while balanced on a ladder.

Believe it or not, this photo is in color - notice the wave smoke?

The husband of a friend told me once that if Alaska was a whale this town would be it's blow hole. I must say, the image works. The Disreputable Dog and I brave the weather (the Disreputable Cat is cheering us on from the window more then happy to not join) and seek refuge in the forest from the sandblasting caused by the airborne sand that was put on the roads to prevent us from slipping on the ice. The wind, at least 75mph this morning, is quickly polishing up the roads into a fine glare ice and solidifying the snow plowed medians that already stand taller then my head. It is not unusual to see cars driving on the wrong side of the street this time of the year because drivers cannot possibly get across the barriers of snow that are taller then their cars.


Layering is absolutely key to this kind of weather. I'm still trying to get back into judging exactly how cold it will be with the windchill after the summer. In Fairbanks I could look out at the thermostat and dress exactly for that temperature. Granted, it got very cold there, the occasional minus 60 was nothing to sneeze at, but this wind is harder for me to judge. The thermometer says we're just below freezing but with 75mph winds? Ever since they changed the way they measure wind chill a few years back I'm all confused. All I know is that it's cold and that the wind cuts through many otherwise warm layers and so everything must be topped with a wind proofing, even my hat. It is also very critical to make sure that the ears, ankles, and belly have no secret exposures at any layer and that the fingers and toes are appropriately covered. The ears, fingers, and toes are all susceptible to frostbite and with the ears you never know it until you come in and warm up.

Footprint Friday: Gray Wolf

Location: on a lake in northern Ontario, Canada. The forest around is decidious birch forest.

Approximate size of actual footprint (not the foot drag): 4x6inches (10x6 centimeters)

The snow is about human calf deep.

Can you guess who made these tracks?

Edited to add answer on the following Monday: Yep, this is the gray wolf or Canis lupis. Doesn't it look just like a daisy chain? Up a bit, and not in the photograph is where it caught a snowshoe hare. Wild canines, unlike their doemstic counterparts, usually travel in pretty straight lines. He, I'm thinking he because their hips are narrower then females whose back feet are usually just slightly wider then their front, was probably dragging his toes along the top of the snow causing the drag. This is common in snow but not in mud.

PS - I changed my header/ banner. What do you think?

Shoveling the Boat

Snow shushes beneath my feet as it falls through the grate of the dock ramp to the water below. Thick fat snowflakes quickly coat my eyelashes, wet and white. The Disreputable Dog has gotten used to this route now although, like me, he is probably still wondering how we got ourselves roped into shoveling this boat. I mean, we don't even shovel at the house with the exception of the two steps. The rest will get packed down by feet and if I must drive I've got 4-wheel drive and can usually get out eventually. Even when it snows 5 ft in one snowfall (which it hasn't yet this winter) I don't shovel. The calm snow globe world has disappeared and I can hear the crash of the waves whipped into a frenzy even here in the calm protection of the bay. It's not a good day to be on a boat, I think. The sky is flashing lightning, which I don't think I've ever seen here, but it's muted by the clouds and there is no thunder. The wind is pulling at my scarf and my hat and I am glad that there are no exposed places for it to suck the heat away from me.

Soon I am warm enough from shoveling the heavy snow off the boat. Ever notice that shovels seem to have in-built heaters? My dog lies happily in the snow with his head resting on the side of the dock keeping an eye out for sea lions and seals but none appear. He is shedding his summer coat for the winter one right now. He loses about a dog a day. This time of year no chickadees hop over to pull it out for their nests (which, amazingly, he tolerates) and when I take the boat brush to him he luxuriates in it. Finally we are done and we walk back along the abandoned tourist shops. I like the dock sides a lot more in the winter when I have them to myself. No busloads of tourists unloading, no hundreds of pounds of fish being photographed and filleted. These shops are cute but they don't sell anything a local would need and so they are all shut and shuttered for the winter. The mountains loom over the sail masts as the soft snow quickly fills our lone footprints across the boardwalk and we head home to hot apple cider.

Living in a Snow Globe

Bald Eagle on old pier posts

I love this weather. It's like living in a real snow globe. Fat, luscious snow flakes whirling around and falling so fast they coat your eyelashes and clothing in seconds, the sea a quiet slate of dark gray. Every grumpy or cranky thought I've had this week flies out of my head in this kind of weather. I'm going to have to shovel the neighbor's boat in the harbor tonight. It will be fun. The Disreputable Dog and I will take our evening walk there tonight. I love walking in this kind of weather too - every noise is muted like it's under a blanket. Every surface is softened. The smells seem muted to my nose too but I know they're not really because the Disreputable Dog is really enjoying all the smells dug up by the snow plows and I am enjoying seeing the animal tracks that he finds by smell and that I normally can't see. I love winter! And this last Sunday we got out for our first ski of the season! Yay!

The Disreputable Dog loves it too. Look at that smile!

Top 10 Ways to Get Through Winter

I am inspired by some of the comments from my last post to post a partial list for you on things I find key to making a long, cold, dark winter a success. If you live in a place that experiences winter, what's on your list?

The Disreputable Dog sleeping after a hard ski in 2003

1. Get outside when the sun's up. It's in the middle of the day? Take a long lunch break. All that office work will still be there when it sinks but if you wait until the work is done the sun won't be.

2. Be active outdoors. That lunch break? Go skiing, walk to the post office, ice skate. Moving in what daylight there is can make a world of difference to your psyche.

3. On a nice day take a minute for the sunrise. Go find a window. Watch it. Breathe it.

4. Light your house well. When you wake up turn on all the lights it will help you wake up. Use light to help you keep your circadian rhythms from wandering too much as in my star light on a timer. A good reading lamp is also very essential.

5. A good potluck recipe! Potlucks are huge in Alaska, particularly in the winter. Winter is the time for socializing, for cookie exchanges, craft nights, movie nights, sauna nights, etc.

Myself, a friend, and the Disreputable Dog in Fairbanks around noon 2 winters ago
(That's ice fog you see there - lovely stuff)

6. If you have an outhouse use blue house styrofoam for a seat...it's insulated and thus doesn't get cold (but store your toilet paper indoors so it doesn't collect ice crystals).

7. Layers! It's always cold outside, it's always too hot inside. Be prepared to layer up and layer down and make sure that you don't forget any key body parts.

8. For the love of digits...buy yourself a WARM pair of boots and a good pair of gloves and don't leave your ears uncovered unless you want frostbite.

9. Go camping! Yes, believe it or not, there is nothing more wonderful then snuggling deep into your sleeping bag with the northern lights playing above your head. You don't have to worry about bears - they're all asleep. And you can pack things like ice cream and not worry about them melting!

10. Hot drinks, plenty of firewood, checking your fuel tank & not letting it get too low, covering your window with plastic....and remember not to leave liquids in your car including, but not limited to, laundry detergent....yes, if it is cold enough, it will freeze. Realize that things such as plastics will be more fragile then usual so be careful. Keep a spare key handy!

11. Bright colors! They keep things cheerful and they make you more visible to traffic. Beautiful bold colors, fun socks and scarves, fun stripey long underwear...ever notice how much winter gear is black???? Why?

Termination Dust

Yesterday morning there was termination dust or the first powder of snow on the mountains. Last night the wind kicked into high gear and this morning I curled under my blankets listening to things blowing by, pieces of roofing, unsecured garbage cans, the rose bush clippings that my neighbor had been intending to burn. High thrashing winds set the perfect mood for the Disreputable Cat to go crazy and race around the house as the Disreputable Dog looked on tolerantly, but rather like an old man shaking his head about what youngsters get up to these days, and me laughingly. All of the leaves have been shaken down from the trees overnight. The wind has changed directions; in the summer our weather comes from the south, in the winter from the north, and this was a north wind.

A Bald Eagle hangs out during a January snowstorm

The thing is, I love wind, I love rain, I love snow. But what I don't like is when it all combines together. It is typical here for it to snow 4-5 feet and then immediately start to rain in similar amounts. This results in the snow clogging the city drains which results in sheets of ice so thick that, I kid you not, I have seen people ice skate down the streets & sidewalks. On top of the ice then, you have a good foot of water which makes any slide on the ice twice as likely and ignominious; not only do you go down on your ass but you also fall into a puddle of icy water that soaks you from head to toe. Add to this 40-50 mile per hour winds and the whole town becomes an ice rink (and on a bicycle I am a sail trying to push against the wind & trying to not get blown into the bay). Last year I wore through 4 pairs of ice grippers and a couple of pairs of knee pads from falling off my bike - there's that moment when you know you're going down and there is absolutely nothing you can do to stop it. This year I am investing in studded bike tires....and I've already stocked up on new ice cleats which will be worn over my XtraTuffs (variously known, depending on your locale, as rain boots, barn boots, wellies, etc).