Maybe We're Crazy

Today, I was interviewed by Bob Bird, radio broadcaster for KSRM out of Kenai, Alaska.  He wanted to know about the cold snap we've been having, down to -51 (some say -62, but it depends on whose thermometer you believe). I gave what I think was a mediocre interview, at best.

I wrote him this letter afterwards:

"Hi Bob, 

I’m dressed to the hilt in warm gear, bringing in wood from the woodshed tonight, an every week chore, and more often these days. Just thinking about what I wish I would have said in the interview! 

I wish I would have said how magical it is here in the winter, crystally white and sparkly because the snow never melts from about October to March. And the skies are so clear, the stars twinkle so close it looks like you could reach up and grab them. The northern lights are a common occurrence here, but they never get old. We still call each other to say “go outside!” and post on Facebook, even though we’ve seen them hundreds of times. 

When you’re stuck inside it gives you an excuse to slow down and drink tea, read a good book, and really talk. 

The tires freeze square so you thump down the road for the first 5 minutes you drive. You can still go for a run outside, but you better cover your mouth so your lungs don’t freeze, and I’ve worn ski goggles at -40 on a run so I don’t get frostbite around my eyes. But it’s possible, and sometimes when you have cabin fever bad enough it’s worth it. 

So it’s a pain up here when cars don’t start or your pipes freeze, but neighbors look out for each other in a way that only happens when lives depend on it.  Tonight my husband Jonathan took a break from thawing a drain at one of our guest cabins to fly a medivac to Anchorage. There’s no place else I'd rather live.

I wish I had said all of that. But I don’t think that quick on my feet ."

I decided I am a better writer than I am speaker, and so finally, I am starting this blog that has been on my mind for years because I want to share this Alaska life in the best way I know how - writing about it.

Bob replied to my email, profoundly:

"The thing about cold, is that it makes you feel alive. And grateful for shelter. And the fact that it unites not just families, but also strangers, in the common cause of battling Nature. If there was someone with car trouble along the highway between Tok and Delta, or Tok and Chistochina, in such weather, we would stop to inquire if they needed help. Maybe not if it was 75 above.

I envy your climate right now, [Bob lives on the balmy Kenai Peninsula where it's a whole 4 degrees, above], though most people would think that was crazy. We are going to Florida to see grandkids soon, and frankly, I would rather stay here in Kenai."

I don't think Bob is crazy at all.  Maybe that's because we're both crazy, but I think really it's because we understand the magic that comes from living in Alaska in the winter. And we're willing to endure the cold to get the kind of magic that you have to earn.