No, We Don't Live in Igloos

I think Alaska must be pretty foreign to some people. I get a lot of questions such as "Do you eat a lot of fat?", "How do you handle 24 hour darkness?", and the best question of all "Do you live in igloos?". I will try to answer these and other good Alaska questions the best I can.

First of all, we shop for groceries at Safeway, Costco, Natural Pantry, and other similar grocery stores. Yes, we do have most of the same foods that are available Outside. (For a detailed explanation of the term Outside, see my previous post) Plus we almost always have that great Alaskan salmon that Outsiders beg us to bring them.

Now, about that 24 hour darkness. Well, Alaska is a big state that stretches across many latitudes. You will have to ask someone from Barrow or Kaktovik how they deal with the darkness. I don't know. Where I live, we get about 5 hours of daylight on the shortest day of the year. And on December 22ND, we start gaining five minutes of daylight per day. Before long, we have lots more light than you Southerners. In fact, one of the things I missed the most during my Southern stint was the summer midnight sun. So, I ask the same question of you "How do you handle the darkness?". I mean really, it gets dark at 9:00 PM instead of 2:00 AM.

Now to answer the question about our humble homes. Are they made of snow and ice? Well, if they were, they would melt in the summer! No, most homes in Alaska are typical stick frame construction. Granted, we sometimes use glazed double pane windows and 2X6 rather than 2X4 construction so we can stuff in extra insulation. With such long cold winters, energy efficiency is important.

All that being said, for a little while Tim and I will have a somewhat atypical living situation, for the city of Anchorage anyhow. Nearly 30 years ago my grandfather built a one room + loft log cabin on the land behind his house for my mother and I to live in. I grew up hauling water and wood for the two wood burning stoves-one for heat and the other for cooking. Going to the bathroom then was kind of like it is in India; As you like. Later a large deck, lean to closet shed, and an outhouse was added. Finally, much later, two straw bale rooms, a grey water drain field, simple plumbing, and a hot shower were added. But the outhouse remains. And I can positively guarantee you that there is no snow and ice included anywhere in the construction.

Outside?

Some common nicknames for Alaska are "The Great Land", "The Last Frontier", "The Last Great Wilderness". I would say that Alaskans are Nationalistic, but this is not quite the right word. They are very independent and patriotic, but it is not necessarily the United states they are so patriotic about; it is Alaska itself. Traveling, I always knew another Alaskan, because, like me, when asked where they are from, they never say "the USA". No, they are from "Alaska". Even if they haven't lived there for twenty years.

To an Alaskan, Alaska is the center of the universe, and everything else is 'Outside'. I mean, who else in the world calls everywhere besides the place they live 'Outside'? As in "I'm going Outside to visit my parents" or "I have to go Outside for work". Outside being anywhere from India to New York, from London to LA. I never realized how funny this sounded until I used the term Outside in Colorado, to describe Colorado, to a Coloradan.

To most Alaskans, I have spent the last five years Outside. So I am fully expecting that when I return, even though I have spent the last 15 months, well five years really, enjoying one adventure after another, most 'good' Alaskans will say " Oh, you've spent the last five years Outside? I bet your glad to be back".

And I will be.

Leaving Alaska

In January of 2003, I decided I had enough of Alaska. After a little preparation, I jumped in my car and began to drive. I was pretty naive about the world at this point; I thought that everywhere on earth was the same great wilderness as Alaska, just warmer! And warmer sounded good to me. So you can imagine my surprise when I began driving through National Forests without trees, across countless dammed rivers, and along endless suburbia that eventually gave way to agricultural fields or grazing land.

About six months later I drove through Boulder, Colorado, and decided to make it my new home. The foothills were close by, and I was told there was over 300 days of sunshine. At first I loved Colorado and its 60 degree winter days. That was before my first 100+ degree summer, where I layed panting in front of the air conditioner most of the time. And before I realized that the traffic snarled exodus to the mountains could take 2 to 4 hours. I finished my degree and met my husband in Colorado, but the longer I stayed, the more my heart was back in Alaska.

So, we came up with a plan. My husband ( an Ohio boy) and I would move back to Alaska. But first, since we were quiting our jobs anyhow, we would travel the world. After an amazing 15 months, we now have only one week to go before we fly back to the United States, pick up some stuff in CO, and drive the 4000 or so miles back to Alaska. One adventure is ending, but a new one is beginning. Although we will be returning to familiar ground, it will be with a new outlook and the way we see things will be different; reintegrating into life in the United States, and Alaska in particular, should be interesting and exciting.


No, it's not Alaska! It is the Santa Cruz trek in Peru. As I am currently in South America, the Alaska photos will have to wait until I get home.