I’m glad January is over. I was so distracted by the mess in the news that I didn’t know what to write. I want to keep that stuff mostly out of the story of me, but I can’t promise it won’t creep in sometimes. I just want to understand it enough to form a position and I don’t think I’m there yet. I’m going to leave it alone.
This is what we woke up to this morning. Not so bad by normal standards up here, but a bit more than we’re used to. At least we have heat this time! The Toyo is working hard and keeping the temperature above freezing. With the help of the propane heater it might get above 40. I’ll take it.
Fortunately it was far warmer at -7° on Saturday. I was given a slot for Chris and I to join the 6 hour Snowmachine tour at work. Now I can tell my guests on the shuttle exactly how much fun they’re going to have. It sprinkled snow all day, even when the sky cleared a little. We were all bundled up to the point Chris said he felt like a burnt stay-puff marshmallow man. It kept us warm enough. At the halfway point we got to sit around a fire drinking hot coffee and tomato soup and eating grilled cheese sandwiches warmed in the coals. Then it was another couple of hours back to Basecamp.
If you already haven’t figured it out, I am a huge proponent of taking on new, challenging experiences. This was exactly that. I don’t know if our guides fully understand how satisfying it was to conquer the hill by the pipeline. They hear it all the time, but being young men I don’t think they understand it. Coming up to that point I had been nervous going above 15 mph on the snowmachine. To go up the hill you had to hit at least 18 to have the necessary momentum. I did it and after that it was easy to cruise at the faster speed. I even enjoyed popping over the bumps.
But here’s the craziest thing of all. As much as I enjoyed the ride and the new experiences, I loved seeing traces of my work everywhere.
I drive the shuttle. At most I spend a half hour at Basecamp each trip unloading and loading luggage and stuff. I bring down dirty laundry and bring back the clean. I joke that half of my job is professional scavenger hunter. I get texted a list and try to acquire everything before I have to pick up the next passengers. Saturday I saw my acquisitions everywhere.
There was the bread, yogurt, and bagels on the breakfast buffet. The hangars for the snow suits. The chimney in the Arctic Oven tent with the propane stove. The snow suits themselves were boxes that came to the shop and I brought up in my van. I have spent most of the season feeling disconnected, but being there I see that I have a hand in almost everything. Even when I drop off luggage now I notice the lemon scent Pinesol that I bought because the store was out of regular. It is so satisfying.
So as I write this it is a brisk -8°F outside. Not cold enough for me to put a coat on if I have to go out for a few minutes, but definitely not t-shirt weather. Almost everyone I left back in the lower 48 says that they couldn’t handle it up here because of the cold and the dark. I might have adapted already.
I’ve already written about the light. Before I came up here I was a little worried about how the short days would affect me. I know that I would get a bit of the winter blues with all of the gray dreariness in Portland. But up here I don’t think I’ve had a problem. I spend all day driving, trying to keep my eyes on the road and not the sky. It isn’t about the quantity of light, it’s the quality of the light that we get, and it’s all colors all day. Sunrise morphs into sunset with hardly any plain light in between. I may have run out of adjectives to adequately describe it all. I hope I never get tired of it.
The cold is something else. I’ve been told that we are having a fairly mild winter this year. The temperature dips to -20° on an almost weekly basis, but so far we’ve only had the one spell of colder. We have figured out the basics of dealing with this amount of cold. The generator has a hut so we don’t lose power. The propane has heat tape on the pipes so we don’t lose flow to it freezing again. We have sheets of foam insulation leaning against the trailer to minimize airflow underneath. I piled snow up to block most of the extra spaces between. The little Toyo works like a charm keeping the worst of the cold at bay. Even with the drafts that are inevitable in an older RV like this one the temperature is holding steady at 57°. We have it set for 60° but this is fairly comfortable.
So much about comfort depends on perspective. I remember coming out of the -31° night there was a temperature swing up to 27° and it felt so warm, but I read someone’s social media post about how they had to cut a bike ride short because 27° was SO COLD! I laughed, but was kind enough to not respond. This week there was heavy rain and wind back in Oregon, resulting in power outages. I saw posts encouraging people to be careful and stay warm because it was 48° outside. Again, I don’t reply because when the temperature drops the Toyo might struggle to keep the indoor temps above 40°, especially in my end of the RV. I just add layers and curl up with my blankets. There are ways to deal with this and I know I am becoming more resilient.
So what should you do to keep warm when it’s really cold outside? It pretty much comes down to a couple of basic things. Trap body heat, and stay dry. If anyone was to come visit I would tell them to pack simply. Have a good quality set of base layers. I have a smartwool shirt and leggings that I almost live in. I also have wool socks, a fresh pair for every day. Over those I add a thermal shirt and flannel lined work pants. I have a scarf and a neck gaiter to keep body heat from escaping my shirts, and over that I wear a sweatshirt. That and a good set of boots that keep the snow out is enough to keep me going through the workday. I have a coat, hat, and gloves that I add as needed, but they annoy me most of the time with their bulk.
If it’s really cold I have hand warmers and toe warmers to get me through. I’ve had to use them a couple of times on the drive home because my poor truck can’t seem to put out any heat. Any time I drive home colder than -10° my feet and fingers start to ache with the cold. It isn’t much fun. A hand warmer can be a lifesaver then.
My friends across the creek have a bit more experience with the really cold weather. Just yesterday, for example, I got to hear more details about troubleshooting and swapping out the Toyo that broke down in the middle of a deep cold spell. She spent two days trying to figure out the problem before just replacing it. The temperature was -40° to -50° during this time. I can’t imagine, but I’m sure I’ll get to experience it at some point. They have a supply of cold weather gear that they have found at the pawn shop. People come up to work on the North Slope and decide not to stay so they sell their lightly used gear rated to -70° and it can be purchased for a tenth of the price of new. I’ll probably get a set at some point if I find the right size and have money at the same time. My biggest problem is finding boots that I can get my oddball left foot into.
Sleeping can be a bit of trouble. I’m using a memory foam mattress and I have discovered that cold makes it as hard as a rock and it steals body heat as it softens. I actually have to sit at the foot of the bed to preheat the mattress a little before I get under the covers. Even the dog has learned that trick. I’m using three blankets and they do a good job if they aren’t stolen by the dog. The single best blanket I bought was the Pendleton design sherpa blanket that Costco sold this year. I bought two of them and I wouldn’t mind picking up another. Just adding one of those blankets to the other two seemed to more than double the heat retained. The night starts out being chilly but I warm up pretty fast.
When I get my cabin built I hope to eliminate many of the problems we have in this RV. We’ll have better insulation. We’ll have a Toyo and a wood stove. I’ll be sleeping in the loft where the heat rises. Chris gets the bedroom downstairs because he likes it cooler. I’m glad for the experience we are gaining this winter, but I really can’t wait for the cabin.
The coffee is extra strong this morning. I might have allowed it to burble on the stove a little bit longer than I should have, but it has a nice kick. I’m sitting here, almost ready to head in to work and I’m trying to make plans. I knew that hibernation would wear off eventually.
First off, I want my cabin. I really, really want a proper cabin. It would be so much easier to heat than this RV. We would have more room to work in the kitchen. We could have better spaces to relax or hang out and not be in each other’s way. That has to wait. My loose plan is to wait for March when things melt to get the sawmill working and get the lumber cut so that when the season ends my shuttle job I can put in the time to build.
Then there is the garden. I want a garden. I’m pretty sure I can grow potatoes and cabbage, carrots and beets. I just don’t know how much protection I will need to install so that critters won’t trample or eat my garden. I put a question in to a group about that. We’ll see if I get anything useful.
I still don’t know what I’ll do for work in summer. Or if Chris will work and I can live off of his paycheck for a few months. I haven’t decided if I’ll drive for Basecamp for a second season or not. Some of this resists planning. It’s too far away and has too many variables.
I used to make lists and plans all the time. I find it really helps when your brain is too busy. Having things written down helps me focus. I’ve been getting better at letting go and winging it, but I would like an outline.
I know what I want to do out in the real world. I’m pondering a couple of ideas for content on the blog. I want your feedback.
What do you want to know about life in Alaska? Do you want to know about living off-grid? How do we keep warm? Cost of living? What it’s like driving? Ask me questions!
I have just finished reading through my posts for the last year. More recently I have been telling stories, but last January I posted a series detailing my camping list. I want to revisit that and compare camping to my current lifestyle. That could be an interesting ten articles.
Please, tell me what you think. I love sharing what it’s like up here and I would love to share the adventure with you the way you want to hear about it.
The light is coming back. The last two days have had spectacular sunrises and sunsets. It stays light a little later than just a week ago and that’s perfect. Then there is the full moon. This morning the moon set as the sun was rising and I couldn’t decide which side of the sky was prettier.
I was running errands this morning, in full professional scavenger hunt mode. My boss sent me a list and I was checking it off. At one point I had to go back to the shop for something and as I pulled in I caught a glimpse of the moon setting huge and beautiful. So I parked the van and walked over to where I had the best angle. I had my phone on camera mode and was zooming in and framing my shot just right when I suddenly realized that there were fuzzy ears in the foreground. I was so focused on the moon that I hadn’t seen the moose.
The shot I got wasn’t perfect. There was another moose about 20 feet to the right, but I didn’t get them both in a single frame. But I got a story.
How many times does this happen to people? You are so focused on the things in the distance that you forget to see what is close by. All those big things you are heading for are great. Keep aiming high! But don’t forget to look for the little things close by too. Smell the roses. See the moose. Enjoy the moment.
It’s very close to the solstice and the temperature has been dipping lower more frequently. This weekend was the second in a row that hovered around -17° for most of the time. Oddly enough, it wasn’t as hard as last weekend.
I had zero plans for my weekend. I literally stayed in a cocoon in my bed as I explored and built in a new world on minecraft. Then Saturday afternoon a friend texted me to let me know she would pick me up at 4. I had to think about it for a while. I wasn’t sure what day it was. Then I remembered that she had informed me that I WOULD be joining her on a girls night out with her friends. Okay. I said I’d be ready.
We went to a favorite Thai restaurant and talked and ate. I knew I would probably like her friends. She has good taste in people. And I know I need to make more connections. As much as I could be happy as a hermit, I still need to socialize. After we left the restaurant we ended up going to look at guns (Missi has found one worth saving up for) and I bought a smaller cast iron skillet. Then we had to park at the side of the road to watch the solstice fireworks. We didn’t even need to be downtown.
It’s cold outside and I’ve been typing this while I wait for the truck to warm up. But the time comes to head for work. Clay is happily tucked into the blankets. He isn’t fond of this weather. It’s snowing again, so I’ll be thankful for the empty Sunday morning highway. It isn’t quite hibernation, but it’s closer than I have been to it in many years. And it feels good.
So my cabin didn’t get built before the snow came. I have come to see that as a blessing in disguise. As much as it would be more comfortable to have the space Chris and I are spending the winter close to friends who can help. Any time something goes wrong they are just across the creek instead of a few miles away. Not everyone gets to cheat like this their first winter living off-grid.
Last June I put together a plan for my cabin and calculated what it would cost. While we got some things set in motion, access to the build site was limited by the rain making a mess of my driveway. My building help had a friend who had fewer limitations and needed a cabin as well. So much of August and September was spent about 50 miles north of Fairbanks working on Zach’s cabin.
The video is about 30 minutes long. Lance recorded chunks of it as they worked. All of his kids were involved at some point; even the 3 year old got to be a gofer. Chris manned the saw. The trailer my dad built was used to haul materials.
This isn’t my cabin, but it might as well be a practice run. It’s nearly the same size and design as what I plan to build. Take time to watch the video and maybe subscribe. I’m sure Lance would love to have more people to share the view from his world. He gets some amazing scenery pics driving the highways of Alaska.
If we’re lucky I’ll get him to make some videos of my cabin build next spring.
FB memories recently showed me this post from four years ago. It fit in with a conversation I had with a guest. It was a conversation that I found very upsetting. I have been letting the conversation and my reactions simmer in the back of my mind for a couple of days now, trying to make sense of it all.
It takes nearly an hour to bring people up to Basecamp from town. I have kind of a spiel that I’ve put together to tell guests a bit about history, local animals and plants, local economy and jobs, and the way that life can be different up here in interior Alaska. Each trip is different because of what catches the attention of a given guest. This couple focused on the dry cabin aspect and what that entails.
The husband asked about how much land costs and what restrictions there might be. How do you get started, etc. I explained some of my journey and why I left a good paying job that made me miserable, and tried to explain some of the things that have made this possible, especially the mindset. The wife told me how I should have done my job back driving bus and at one point very passionately told me that “not everyone can do what you have done! Some people are trapped!”
Some people are trapped. Trapped by circumstances. Trapped by the fact that they have children that they can’t bring themselves to pull out of a school where they are bullied and abused by the other kids. Because if they aren’t in school how will they be properly socialized? Trapped by income limits. Trapped by dysfunctional relationships? Trapped by their own ideas of how the world works and how you should submit to the system, even though it makes you so miserable you don’t want to drag yourself out of bed to do it another day, but you have to because what about the children?
I get it. As the old FB post above hints at I spent a long time feeling trapped. I had no idea how I could do anything different. I saw only the limitations surrounding me. I could not imagine any other way, but I was desperate for something different. My life at that time was doing its best to destroy me, and for a while it came close.
I looked for inspiration in many places. I listened to podcasts to learn about how to create a farm business, how to manage money and create wealth on a normal income. I heard about possibilities outside of the beaten path from people who had found their own version of success that fed their souls instead of destroying them. I dug in and kept trying to figure out what I really want in life. The post above is an early version. Now I summarize it by saying, “I want to live with the seasons and I want to be able to hibernate.” I’m still working out what that means, but I have a feeling that it will shift through the years as I have new experiences. Right now I just want to make enough money to live on and build my cabin. I have options that I never saw before. Life isn’t perfect, but it’s happier than it was 4 years ago.
To answer the idea that people are trapped, I just want to say this: yes, you are in a cage. It is made of expectations and debt, materialism and keeping up with the Joneses. You have been socialized by school to put up with abusive work environments just so you can have a paycheck to keep it all afloat and not disappoint your family and friends. But it is a flimsy cage. The bars are weak and spaced far apart. You can escape any time you choose. It all starts by deciding you want something better. Then you make a plan. You spend a couple of years dismantling your cage and one day you walk away from it. It only ever existed in your mind anyway.
If you look for reasons to not succeed you will always find them. If you look at people who succeeded despite all the reasons they shouldn’t, you will find them as well. Life is never completely comfortable. So you need to decide what kind of discomfort you can put up with in order to find the life you can be comfortable with.
I chose to leave a reliable $60k/yr income and a four bedroom, really nice home so that I can have the chance to live in an RV in the extreme cold, using an outhouse with no roof. The trade-off is that my soul feels free. I am happier than I have been in years, and I feel better day by day. I have a job I can go to without crying the entire commute.
Am I lucky? Maybe. But only because I found new choices and made myself step out and do something different. It was terrifying to buy the plane ticket to come visit Alaska for the first time. It was terrifying to actually purchase my property up here. It was scary to apply to seasonal jobs that paid half of my income rate at Trimet. But once it all started coming together I felt a peace with everything. Only my bank balance regrets leaving Trimet.
I don’t know if that guest realized that her words were like knives, twisting in some old wounds, but after pondering my reactions I came to two conclusions. One, I’m glad for it. I feel like some old pain has drained from me that wouldn’t have without this interaction. And Two, she wants something better in her life but she feels trapped. I tried to explain to her how I got here. I tried to encourage her to take tiny steps and see outside of whatever barriers she thinks are there. I truly believe that people can do whatever they set their minds to. I hope my words set hope in motion for her. In the meantime I hope that the beauty of this place helps heal the wounds in her soul.
I’m happy here. This is not an easy place to live and I know it isn’t for everyone. My greatest hope is that with this blog telling my story I can inspire other people to find what makes them happy and take the steps to improve their lives. If anything I say or share does that for you then let me know. I want to see more people living well.
My dear friend Missi doesn’t celebrate Christmas with things. The reasons are complicated and incomprehensible to some, but simply put she and her family prefer to focus on the reasons behind Christmas instead of the commercialized holiday. She knows that my family does like Christmas. More specifically, I like the lights and the music that put me in a cozy mood. My boys are a little bit cynical about it and put up with me.
With our surroundings and circumstances being so very different this year I was fully prepared to let the season slide by. I left my special ornaments in Oregon. I don’t need to make the generator work extra just for colored lights. There’s no room for a tree in the RV. It’s okay, expected, and perfectly alright for me to do nothing this year.
I was surprised when my dear friend showed up at my door on Friday night with this baby Norfolk Island Pine. They are my favorite plant to pet and I haven’t had one in years. She said she wanted to make sure I had something for the season. Even though she doesn’t celebrate she wanted to make sure I can. (And she says she doesn’t understand why she has been told that Hospitality is one of her spiritual gifts.)
My son immediately dubbed it Plant. Plant will keep Mr Coffee company now that Mr Coffee has been abandoned for the stovetop version. It will be hard to keep Plant alive in the variable environment of the RV, but we’re up for the challenge. We still don’t know how or if we will dress Plant up for the holiday, but this could be fun.
As a side note, we spent all the daylight on Saturday (11am to 3:30pm) rebuilding the stand for the heating oil barrel. The quick and dirty stand that was put together to get us warm was starting to fail. We dismantled it and made a much better one.
Really, it only took about 2 hours of work, but we had to come inside multiple times to warm up our hands and the driver drill. Our tools didn’t like the -13 weather any more than we did. It’s done now and should last us a good long while. I keep saying we, but I have to give all credit to my son. I was just the gofer on this project, as much as that goes against my nature. He can be proud of his work and I’m proud of the man he has become.
You know the memes: a picture of a cabin in the middle of nowhere and the text says, “for a million dollars” or “give up football” or something like that. A lot of people say YES! Others don’t think they can. A few more are emphatically hell NO! Most of them will never try.
I listen to podcasts and recently one covered a guest’s life growing up in North Korea. The host was rightly horrified by the description of the human rights violations and starvation faced by the people, but also by the idea of no running water and the struggle for electricity.
As I drive guests to and from town I talk about local history and the economy and life in the extreme conditions, but what often fascinates them most are stories of my own adventures. I mention how warm it feels at 18° and how strange it was when we got up to 38° for a few hours the other night. Then I casually say it has been as cold as -31° and oh by the way I spent that night without heat. And I wonder… Do they look at me the way that podcast host looked at the woman who grew up in North Korea? Do they pity me for doing this hard, crazy thing? They are all pretty well off to be able to travel and spend the money on the location I work for so maybe the idea of giving up modern comfort and convenience is something they would never consider, let alone do.
Another podcast I listen to uses the term voluntary hardship. It’s a strength training podcast so they literally mean choosing to pick up a heavy thing to gain the ability to bring in the groceries or work in the garden. You choose to do hard things so that everything else is easy by comparison. You gain strength in more than just your body. I haven’t gotten started on the strength training yet (I really need to) but I’ve been applying the concept to other areas in my life, often just as a mindset exercise.
I could have stayed in Oregon. I could have kept that stable job with benefits. I could have stayed in the house with all the modern comforts and conveniences like showers whenever I want. I didn’t have to come to a place where the air hurts my face and I have to go outside in the middle of the night when my bladder wakes me up. I chose this, knowing the shape of the life I was stepping into.
We didn’t have to stay in the RV with no heat on the night it hit -31°. We could have gone across the creek and stayed in the warm cabin. In fact we did that the next night before the Toyo got running in the RV. But staying in the cold proved that we could do it. In our own minds we survived the hard thing and came out the other side a little stronger. Each time something goes wrong we can tackle it with the knowledge that we are strong enough to do what has to be done and when we fix it we gain more confidence in our own ability and experience.
2020 has been hard on everyone. It might be your health or work, finances or need for social connections. There are things to be dealt with to get through this. It cannot stay bad forever. I suggest you embrace the hardship. Tackle it and find a way through that leaves you stronger. Life is there for the living and when you’ve been through a challenge the easy stuff is that much sweeter.
Life without running water, predictable power, and heat is not something that I expect everyone to try. I say it over and over, this really is not for everyone! But that doesn’t mean that only people who deprive themselves can benefit. Everyone can benefit by handling some hardship in their lives. It doesn’t have to break you. Let it make you stronger.
Before coming to Fairbanks I knew that daylight would be an issue. At the summer solstice the sun might set for 3 hours, but it doesn’t get dark. In winter it is the opposite issue. Days get shorter and shorter until the sun is only up for 3 hours, but here the darkness is not complete. Sunrise colors start an hour or more before the sun shows up and last longer too. Sunset colors can be in the sky up to 2 hours before the sun goes down and they take time to fade along with the light. On a really good day there is color across the sky and reflected from the snow all day. It is a constantly shifting light show and the sheer beauty makes up for all the challenges that come from living up here.
I drive a shuttle van to bring tourists to and from a destination with an aurora borealis theme. People who wanted to go to Iceland or Norway to see the Northern Lights have had to shift their plans to Alaska. They always ask me about the chances of a good show. I always tell them I can promise nothing on the aurora, but I also always point out the colors in the sky and tell them how much I love watching the shifting of the light. I’ve had more than one person thank me on our trip back into town. I’ve been told that even with a good aurora show overnight they still loved watching the daylight almost as much. When something is in short supply you find a greater appreciation for it.
I hope I never get tired of seeing all of this beauty in my world.