When I
arrived in Anchorage it was not terribly cold. It was around freezing (so 32 or
0, pick your unit system). This is a
temperature experienced by many at some point in their lives. It's not bad. You
step outside and see your breath; your nose gets cold after a while. If you're skiing or doing something physical,
it's surprisingly easy to overheat, shed layers, and then freeze because all
that sweat you've been working up freezes when you take off your jacket to cool
down. An unfortunately side effect of hovering near freezing is rain.
Yes, it
rained while I was in Alaska. In December. I went skiing that day and so I was
going up and down the mountain. I'd start at the bottom with the rain, get soaked
and then riding up the chair lift, it would change slowly into ice and then
finally snow at the top. Then of course
the whole process goes in reverse while snowboarding down. By the end of the
day I was soaking wet through three layers and my down-jacket was practically useless. In
Alaska, wet and cold spells hypothermia and disaster much faster than simple
cold does.
Mere days
after arriving, southern Alaska experienced a cold snap. Overnight, the
temperature dropped more than 50 degrees and suddenly we were seeing
temperatures of -30 F (which is like -34 C).
This is intense cold. This is the cold people think we must have all
year, but most have no concept of what temperatures like this feel like or
mean. You step outside and the cold can rob you of your breathe.
In this
cold, it's hard to go outside for too long. The cold will seep in through any
gap in your clothing. The space between your mittens and coat. The seams in the
side of your snowpants. Any weakness allows the bitter cold in and from there
it spreads. Your feet get so cold they
ache. And then all feeling in them leaves. You lose most feeling in your face
within minutes. After 15 or 20 minutes in this cold, even with winter boots and
three or four layers it takes almost twice as long to get warm again. The same layers that protected you outside
can turn on you and prevent the warmth from reaching you. Skin feels foreign as
it warms up slowly and fingers and toes ache painfully as the blood rushes back
into them.
Batteries
stop working. Cars refuse to start until they are plugged in to engine block
heaters and warmed up to a temperature where the battery can send power and the
fuel can compress. Pipes on the sides of houses can freeze and explode if water
isn't used for too long. We used to leave our faucet on dripping during
vacations so we wouldn't come back to a flooded house. Heating systems have a
hard time keeping up. The wind blows through the smallest of gaps in our cabin
and steals the warmth inside instantly. It's too cold to snow.
The only
benefit of this kind of cold, that I can see at least, is the beauty it brings
with it. Cold like this comes from clear
sunny skies. The sun comes up and casts golden light on everything. It's hard
to know if it's the cold or the sight of the mountains lit up just right that
is stealing your breath from you. Everything looks more dramatic and lovely in
this strange, timeless winter light. The northern lights come out and dance
across the sky putting on the most hauntingly beautiful show in the world (and
for me confirming the existence of a God who so perfectly designed the world).
Many wonder why people choose to live in these extreme places. My answer is usually because these places are so extreme in every way. Everything about Alaska is intense. We have deep, freezing cold temperatures reaching up to -60 (where my brother lives and works). But we also have the most intense beauty I've ever seen after exploring 5 continents. Beauty that exists both because of and in-spite of such intense cold.
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