Anchorage’s first taste of snowfall

A warm cup of coffee is sounding pretty good right about now.

With cold weather comes the desire to eat warm, comforting foods. This weekend, Anchorage finally got its first snowfall, and what better way to mark the occasion than by making a great big pot of ‘damn good chili’ and a skillet of cornbread. It’s great but I’m sure there are those around me who are not as thrilled with my ‘songs’ after eating this wonderful dish.

As I am writing this, we are getting our first snowfall of the season. There were a few flakes earlier today as I was eating lunch with several friends at Henry’s. It had been raining lightly all morning when the change started to occur. The snow fell slowly at first, one flake at a time, but soon it filled the sky, spreading thickly across the entire land. With the native culture in Alaska it was almost as if the tears of the villagers gathered into clouds and, with the chill in the air, returned to earth as Alaska's first snowfall.

This first snowfall reminds me of Alaskan beer, and how I wanted one at lunch today. Too bad I couldn’t drink with my salad wedge. Especially an Alaskan Amber or spruce-tip winter ale, I have some Blue Moon now at the house but it just doesn't compare. My normal Guinness seems to be still on the shelf of the refrigerator. Alaskan beer also cost half as much. Who would have thought we would pay eight bucks for a quarter head of lettuce with some bacon bits, sliced apples, grapes, and what seemed like out of place cherry tomatoes? I can’t stand Blue-Cheese so it sometimes is difficult for my server to prepare it with honey mustard. Of course, that was one of the superb things about Anchorage . . . along with the seafood, the views of the mountains, and the sunsets.

The annual debut snowfall on these peaks visible from Anchorage is called termination dust, as it signals the beginning of the end of summer. This year the first dust at the very top of the mountaintops started showing up in mid August a few times early in the morning. By September 15 it started inching its way down the slopes, but so far, hasn't come down the mountains very far only about half way. That could change quickly tonight as we are forecast to have a couple of inches on the ground by morning.

We can be lulled into a false sense of security by a stationary snow line and the pretty days lately with semi-warm days much needed with the ‘non-summer’ Alaska has seen lately, and then BAM, we get hit with 6 inches of fresh powder with little warning.

Then the crazies come out to play . . . and drive.

That's when driving becomes a contact sport here, with nearly everyone in town having this huge case of collective amnesia, forgetting that snow and ice are actually . . . you know . . . slippery . . . after all it’s ice. It's funny when it doesn't happen to you, but the first snowfall in town leaves the ditches littered with cars like so many beer cans after a tailgate party. And it seems that way too many local drivers seem to equate 4-wheel drive with actual traction, apparently believing that Subaru’s and F-150s with 4WD are immune to some of the laws of physics.

But class gets called to order quickly, lessons (sometimes) learned, and after everyone gets their studded tires installed, things calm down a bit. But there are always slow learners who get overconfident and think that studded tires = dry pavement, and things get scary once in a while.

Darwinism doesn't always win out. But sometimes the moose do . . . it you hit one it will total your rig and possibly kill you in the process as their legs are so long hitting one forces the body torso to come through the windshield crushing the people inside.

Welcome to winter in wonderland!

Ice