Bye, bye state fair, hello fall

Resslin' Around, by Casey Ressler

The final bratwurst had been shoveled in my mouth, the last ice cream cone happily spilled on the front of my shirt and my baby snoozed away in her stroller, with dreams of funnel cakes and cream puffs dancing in her mind. The fair was officially over.

The last few steps toward the exit gate of the Alaska State Fair are the hardest steps to take as an Alaskan who loves the summer months, enjoying everything from fishing to mowing the lawn.

As the fair's exit gate draws closer, so does fall, and about 10 minutes after that, winter.

The fair is Alaska's last grip on summer, and leaving on the final Monday of the fair is almost like voluntarily losing that grip and giving in to the coming change of seasons.

Sure, the leaves are starting to turn a golden yellow and brown and they are filling the lawn with their color. Yes, there is a nip in the air in the mornings, and you actually need a winter cap at night when mixing in a late-season camping trip. And of course, the darkness is returning quickly.

Still, the fair is in the summer, and up until last week, the fair was still going on. Summer was still here.

And now they are over -- both the fair, and the summer. It's almost as if having mustard on your cheek, ice cream on your shirt and barbecue sauce smeared all over your fingers is the official way to usher in autumn in Alaska.

After passing through the gate on the final day of the fair last Monday, you could see your breath as you walked to your car. A casual glance up at the beautiful mountains reaffirmed that winter is on its way, as termination dust nipped at the peaks.

As summer goes into autumn, the signs are very visible, even if you don't want to see them yet.

Of course, there are a few more rainbow trout fishing trips left in my fly rod for this season, and it'll be a few more weeks before lakes start freezing up, ending canoeing and boating activities.

The fall is a great time to enjoy the outdoors and the changing colors, but with dread in the back of your mind that winter will be fast approaching.

It was a decent summer, and like most Alaskans, my family tried to pack about 15 months worth of activities into the four months of summer.

Fishing and camping trips, a visit to Homer and one to Whittier, a family wedding and visiting relatives made the summer feel like it lasted all of two weeks.

It's a sentiment everybody else feels, too.

The snow will be here soon, and there will be plenty of winter fun taking place.

Every person who lives in Alaska has to have a certain love of the winter, or they wouldn't be here in the first place. I share that thinking as well.

Don't get me wrong, I like the winter to a certain extent. I enjoy spending an afternoon zipping through the backcountry on a snowmachine, and a weekend spent in my father's Petersville cabin, with the stove and a hot cup of coffee keeping me toasty, is as memorable as any summer weekend.

Still, letting go of summer is tough.

I wanted to camp out at the fair, with the mustard on my cheek and the ice cream on my shirt, as a way of keeping summer here for a few more months.

If I didn't pass through that gate, I told my wife, fall wouldn't come.

That's when she pointed out to me neither would the NFL season.

I jumped up and ran to the car. Some things are worth trading the summer for after all.

Casey Ressler (valleylife@frontiersman.com) is the Frontiersman Valley Life editor. He dreams of landing a trophy rainbow trout this fall.