If you're reading this from Alaska, then you probably already knew this but for everyone else's benefit I just wanted to share that I live in a place where it has to "warm up" to snow in the winter.
I ran around in -12 yesterday morning. It was intense. Apparently it will get worse, much worse.
Here's some more knowledge:
- Moose begin to resemble zombies right around this time of year. What used to blend in with all of the background trees and dirt, now just...
The first day it snows in earnest in Kenai and I pilot Piotr directly into a ditch.
Maybe it’s for the best.
I had no business driving on solid ice in a rear-wheel drive baby rig with bald tires and no weight in the back; a fact I was reminded of when I saw four rollover accidents on my way to work.
I was listening to Carmina Burana, the emotionally potent Carl Orff creation that has been in the background for everything from Super Bowl commercials to the Conan movies.
It is epic, my...
I’ve been ignoring the signs for weeks.
It snowed last week. I was in the newsroom, minding my own business, and when I looked out the window there it was… tiny little harbingers of my icy doom.
Yeah, they were melting almost as soon as they hit the ground but the damage was done.
Everywhere I turn the brilliantly covered leaves are falling to the ground and while I’m as tantalized by the chance to jump on a crispy leaf as the next person, this just doesn’t bode well.
When I was a vaguely impressionable third-grader I read "Kidnapped", "The Swiss Family Robinson" and "Huck Finn" in rapid succession.
I became obsessed with the idea of roughing it alone, in the woods with nothing but a trusty knife and several small strips of leather. It seemed that was all you needed to get out of trouble.
One recent evening, my roommate came home with a peculiar-sounding slosh in his step.
He'd been out fishing for reds on the Kenai and had managed to fall in. Twice.
I've claimed to be a lot of things, but overly compassionate was never one of them and I’m afraid it showed when, instead of offering a towel or — really — tangible support of any kind, I giggled. More than twice.
Honestly, you try watching someone swim out of their waders without letting out a good guffaw or two.
I spent a lot of time this week fishing without a license. Or, at least, spending time with other people who were fishing so I didn’t need a license. I hear fish and wildlife will hunt me down via helicopter if I ever decided to catch any fish without proper license, stamp and tattooed barcode.
I learned a few things I thought I’d let you in on, in case you happen to be one of the few Alaskans who doesn’t participate in this industry.