Recalling winters of the past while recovering from surgery

With the recent extremely cold temperatures plus the nearly two-foot-deep snow covering the ground, I’m sure a lot of you are wondering why you live in Alaska and whether you plan on staying here. That thought has occurred to me over the last few days.

Regarding the weather, we’ve been spoiled the last several years by not having our usual Alaskan winter. Both snowfall amounts and temperatures have been mild compared to our normal winter weather patterns. Now that we’re seeing a more “normal” snow fall and temperature regime, it seems severe — how soon we forget!

When my wife and I first moved to the Valley back in 1990, I distinctly remember one November day. I was working for Fish and Game at the Big Lake fish hatchery. We were picking eggs (removing the dead eggs from the live ones in each incubator). I walked home for lunch and thought I would die before I got to my housing unit. The temperature was minus 55 degrees with a slight breeze. Having come from the Kodiak area, I was seriously questioning my sanity by taking a job in this sort of cold environment!

I also remember shoveling almost four feet of compacted snow off my roof during the 1994 winter because of concerns about snow overload and roofs collapsing all over Southcentral. Luckily, that was the one and only year where clearing the roof was a recommended activity.

My recovery after my shoulder surgery is beginning to bug me. I don’t feel bad enough to just lie around all day, but I also know my activities need to be curtailed significantly to allow time for the shoulder to heal. I’ve not been officially cleared to drive my truck yet either.

The snow’s marginally too deep to go for a ride in the six-wheeler and my snowmachine needs a trip to the shop before I can run it. I can’t get it loaded on the trailer for the trip to the shop anyway. In fact, I’m not sure I could get the trailer out from where it’s snowed in! I couldn’t steer the snowmachine if it was running!

I can’t run my ice auger to drill holes for icefishing and even jigging the bait would probably be frowned on by my surgeon right now. I can’t draw my bow to shoot at the indoor range in Wasilla and shooting a blackpowder rifle or pistol at the monthly shoots in Palmer is off limits for the next several months as well. I even skipped the Wasilla gun show primarily to avoid the jostling and bumping one normally experiences when walking the usually crowded aisles at this event.

I can’t even shovel snow (although I have done a little light pushing of the stuff off our porch and steps). I have to be careful when walking outside since a fall on my shoulder would not be a good thing! Currently, I spend most of my time indoors reading, watching TV, and contemplating life.

Now that I’m retired, I don’t really mind the snow because, short of a doctor’s appointment, I don’t have to go anywhere on a schedule. The road crews have time to clear and sand the roads. However, I have found that as I’ve gotten older, I dislike the extreme cold. That’s anything below around zero degrees.

So, where am I in deciding about my life in Alaska? I have never lived anywhere where the “community perspective” so closely matches my own. Back when I was going to graduate school in Maine, my roommate’s father, a retired Army recruiter, told me something I’ll always remember.

When I asked why he returned, after having lived all over the country, to his hometown after retiring, he told me he felt most comfortable living where he felt he best fit into the community and where his personal views best matched the community’s general outlook. That happened to be where he grew up in Maine. I grew up in the Midwest and have lived in the Northeast and the Southeast, but I have never felt as comfortable as living here in Alaska.

Sure, the winter weather in Alaska gets old, but summers are unlike anywhere else. I enjoy hunting, fishing, reloading, boating, RVing, shooting, and hiking as my ankle allows. In my opinion, there is no place better suited for pursuing my interests than Alaska. I might have to leave someday for medical or other unforeseen reasons, but as long as things stay as they are, I’m home!