I should do a post in February

Well, I didn't die. The month-and-a-half long cold snap down to -57F at my cabin didn't kill me because I barely did anything outside the whole time. It almost killed me, though... mentally. I got 50 below in Fairbanks for my birthday and even colder where I live. Thanks, Mother Nature. I really appreciated it. Yeah.
Since it warmed up, I've battled to regain the desire to go outside and experience this thing they call 'fun.' I almost forgot what it was.

Skiing seemed like a reasonable idea during the cold snap and a few friends finally convinced me to go outside. It was worth it.

Then the outdoors editor for the local paper called me and asked some questions about fatbikes. I was featured in the story.

I put out Far North Fatbikes' third edition of our newsletter, The Fat & Happy.

Then, I got to head out into the great white world of Yukon-Charley Rivers National Preserve to co-manage the hospitality stop (photos) at Slaven's Roadhouse for the Yukon Quest International Sled Dog Race. The aurora gave me a nice goodbye the night before I left and then welcomed me the night I arrived at the historic roadhouse.

When I got back, my buddy Brett & I headed out into the White Mountains with our fatbikes and did the 100 mile loop in two days. It was a coarse reminder of how far 100 miles is and how out of shape we were from the cold snap.
The only thing I have to say, don't wear a backpack while biking. It kills ventilation.

My buddy, Jack, came into Anchorage from Nome, so J.R. & I went down to see him and ride fatbikes.
J.R. put together a video of the trip.

Our bud, Colby designed a sweet new logo for Far North Fatbikes.

I'm working on a trip report of the White Mountains biking trip, but decided I should probably do a post in February.
More to come soon, after I catch up on sleep and do a short bike trip this weekend... just a 40 mile day ride, no big deal :)

Cold, Fun, & Suffering: A Progression

Alaska has been the coldest place in the world this past week, with Fairbanks at the heart of it all.
I rode my fatbike in to work on two of the coldest days, with the coldest temperature I'm aware of riding through being -49º F.
At 10 mph travel, that's a -66º F wind chill, if the air is calm. The bridge of my nose can attest to this. Call me stupid, and I might agree.

An hour and a half to go twelve miles, mostly on bike paths or trails, with a stop at the gas station just past half-way to get some coffee.
I know what everyone is thinking... why in the hell would I ride my bike twelve miles each way, to & from work in the -40s? My mom questioned me, too, and here's what I wrote to her in an e-mail...

Things are different up here (Alaska). Downstates, people would honestly think I'm a f***ing nut-job. Here, people just think what I'm doing is crazy, not me, personally. See the difference?
Anyone who lives in Alaska is exposed to the extremes, both in terms of the people and the conditions. Mushers do incredibly long runs in all weather imaginable, from minus-60s on the Yukon River, to 0F & blowing 50 mph on the Bering Sea coast. People have been skiing, biking, climbing, running, etc, in Alaska for ages and continue to do so. Plus, if you think about the Alaska Native historical & nomadic lifestyle, it makes us all seem like a bunch of wimps.

I like to push the line in some things I do, for, if nothing else, a way to test myself and in an attempt to, as my good friend described it to me once in terms of alpine climbing, 'make myself bulletproof.' If I take opportunities to practice, which is how I look at it, when I'm out on trips, it's not the end of the world if I'm uncomfortable for a while or experience 'poor' conditions. I'll be able to shrug it off easily and say, 'I've seen worse,' with a smile. Make yourself bulletproof to, hopefully, anything you could experience, both in regards to adventures for recreation and in life, too.

Underlying everything I do is the mantra of 'be smart.' Push the line and test yourself in both what you can handle and the skills you've built, but know the limits of what is realistic and what crosses the line as either dangerous or just stupid/detrimental to your health & well-being. Honestly, I was sweating on the ride home the second day, just a little bit, even though it was at least -35F. That means I have a little wiggle room/buffer/room to spare for riding in those conditions with the clothing system I used. If something goes wrong, I have warm mittens, two puff jackets, and puff pants to put on immediately. Plus, from experience, I know that pushing a bike warms you up SUPER fast.

So, now I know that I can comfortably(?) bike for at least two hours at -45F safely. Sure, depending on conditions and location, I might need a warm sleeping bag/tent/cabin/building to go in at the end, but in a different situation (not commuting to work), I would inevitably attack it differently. If I was biking a big route through a remote area, I'd make sure I didn't sweat and think ahead for everything imaginable.
In 2010, I volunteered on the White Mountains 100 bike/ski/foot race and patrolled the 100 mile route on snowmachine, helping at checkpoints & giving assistance to racers, if necessary, but mostly just making sure everyone was ok. I got a real good look at the route and idea of what it would be like to complete it. So, after oogling over the fatbike tracks for 100 miles, I went back the next weekend and did the route solo & unsupported on my 29er. That trip gave me a lot of confidence and understanding of how fast I can go for how long. In 2011, I felt fully prepared to enter the race, and ended up cutting 13 hours off my solo time, finishing in 16 hrs 15 min on my fatbike.

Photo by Ed Plumb, Nov 2011

I think this is a perfect example of the progression that everyone should do when attempting something extreme, in regards to their own viewpoint of their goals, interests, experience, etc. Start by exposing yourself to it a little bit, like biking at 0 or -20. Then step it up a little more, like commuting or camping in those same temps. Then, go big, once you have things figured out and are comfortable with it, if you so choose. I saw it, I tried it, I raced it. I even went out there hiking in summer this year. Now, I feel comfortable on that route in just about any conditions it could throw at me. It's all the first steps towards crazier sh*t, which is all relative and described in that manner from other, more conservative people's perspectives.

Ironically, Dave wrote similarly about this topic on his blog, this week. Please read, as his insights are noteworthy. One could also compare all this silly talk to the types of fun that alpinist Kelly Cordes wrote about a while ago.

It's important psychologically, if nothing else, to be able to get through a situation because you're seen worse, have overcome a bad situation or experience like it before, etc. All these things can completely destroy a person psychologically in the field, on a trip, or just in life. It can break you down and put you in a hole you can't climb out of alone, which is not a place I ever want to find myself, although it may be inevitable.

I tell myself, and believe, there is a point to everything like this I do, and for once, FINALLY, I may have just found my line of where the fun stops but my body keeps going. Possibly the limit of enjoyability (word?) and the continuation of capability. And, by God, does that make me happy. I've been looking for it for years.
______

For the record, please do not call me hardcore or anything of similar reference, as some people have recently. It irritates me, big time.
I'm just a dude who has an interest in doing this stuff and am just like so many other awesome people out there.
But, most importantly, there are too many people to list that have, do, and will experience far greater things and endure more pain & suffering than I have or ever will and it would be embarrassing to be referred to in terms of so many great adventurers of history & today:
HA, HS, BM, RR, RD, EP, EP, JO, LM, JL, AS, CC & here & here, too... the list goes on.
Maybe I want to be there, but I am not... yet :)

Coal Wood Glitter: The Third Time's A Charm

I had an idea, I planned, I tried, and now I finished.

90 miles through the Alaska Range, this time with Ed Plumb & Ann Farris.
Day 1: Suntrana to Cody Creek via Healy Creek (27 mi) & 10 hrs of sleep
Day 2: Cody Creek to Edgar Creek  via the Wood River (25 mi) & 8 hrs of sleep
Day 3: Edgar Creek to McKinley Village, aka 'Glitter Gulch' (10 mi hiking & 28 mi packrafting).
          First vehicle I thumbed it to picked us up.

The Route:
About 95% of this route offers some sort of trail or path, whether it be ATV or game trails.
One 4500 ft pass and one 5400 ft pass. Lots of creek/river bed walking & thick brush (mostly alder & birch) in drainages up to 4000 feet.
The Yanert is swift glacial current, running at least 6 mph, with a top floating speed of 11 mph. It's mostly a class I-II float, with some hard & tight eddy lines that require precise paddling and a few class III bends and holes, almost all of which are avoidable.
I unintentionally danced with the Devil and ended up running two big wave trains, without a spray deck or PFD, that each led into a class III hole, but managed to stay dry & upright. Sorry Mom, but I guess I learned something from all those Roman Dial packrafting videos.

Trip Insight:
- It's a great route: walk past the old coal mines and up Healy Creek for 20-some miles, up & over Cody Pass & down Cody Creek to the Wood River, up it to Big Grizzly Creek & the pass to Edgar Creek, then follow Edgar Creek to the Yanert, float out the Yanert to Revine Creek (5 hrs) and hike back to the Parks Highway at McKinley Village. It's very straight-forward and easy to follow.
- As you can see in the video, we used the GPS a lot, but that's only because we forgot the maps in the truck. I also had a mental image burnt into my brain after two years of planning. We found that it's perfect for someone looking to 'go bigger' with their backcountry adventures, but still have some sort of path to follow and information about the route, with not too big of terrain and modest safety hazards.
- I typically don't eat that much during the day, but like a big meal at night. It replaces what I burned during the day and helps me sleep at night. But, if it's cold, windy, & wet, I need a lot more calories during the day.
- Ultralight is great, but if it's nasty weather, it may be best to either have extra time to wait it out or bring the extra food it will take (calorically) to keep on truckin'. Extra time might be nice to catch up on sleep or rest sore muscles/feet from all the mileage you probably were doing because you are going ultralight.
- I took my pack off three times each day and never sat down the first two days, until we made camp. We averaged between 2.5 & 3 mph hiking, depending on the brush intensity. Continuing to hike and not taking more than a few minute breaks was actually nicer than stopping and resting, as it kept my body in motion.
- I dipped a liter bottle in small creeks for water, without filtering, and found that every creek tastes different, depending on the rock and minerals deposited into the water. It kept me in touch with the environment in a way I've never experienced before.

The Gear:
19 lbs including boat & paddle, not including worn & consumables
Six Moon Designs Comet backpack (& 2 webbing straps to tie to packraft)
Marmot Hydrogen sleeping bag & torso size blue foam
Patagonia wool 2 zip-t & wool socks (for sleeping, in silnylon bag)
GoLite Shangri-La 3 & 6 Y-stakes (to sleep 3 people)
Ti pot, Cat stove, pot grabber, spoon, windscreen, & matches (to cook inside shelter)
Bear spray, knife, & firestarter
Rab eVent jacket & OR PacLite pants
Montbell Thermawrap Vest & Patagonia Nano Puff Hoody
Alpacka Yukon Yak (also to sleep on)
AquaBound Manta Ray paddle (also shelter support)

Gear Insight:
- Denatured alchohol is great, but up at 4500 feet on Big Grizzly Creek was the first time I've ever had problems with the cat stove. Even nestled behind some rocks, it took almost 10 lights before it stayed burning and boiled water. Every time I set the pot on the stove, it would go out. Sensitive to the wind?
- Having the liter bottle cinched to my backpack shoulder strap with an orange ski strap was fantastic. I stayed more hydrated than I ever have in my life, as the water was right there to drink and monitor how much I had or needed for the next stretch. If I was hiking along a creek, I'd dump it out and carry an empty bottle, as I could dip whenever I was thirsty.
- The Rab Latok Alpine Jacket with eVent fabric doubled as a wind & rain jacket. It was so breathable, I only took it off for one mile! While hiking into the driving rain, however, it did wet out, but conditions were pretty gnarly and I'm not disappointed, especially when I compare its performance to all the other waterproof/breathable fabrics I've used.
- We had to stop hiking the second night (in the driving rain) not because we were tired or it was late or too nasty of weather, but because my gloves were saturated and after three hours, my hands finally got too cold. Couple that with the conditions and time and it was a mighty fine opportunity to pitch the shelter and hit the hay. Take home message: bring shell gloves/mitts or a way to keep hands dry (& warm).
- The GoLite Shangri-La 3 slept all three of us with just enough space to sprawl out, except for the driving rain night, when we had to hunker in a little to keep away from the wet nylon. Plenty strong and storm-worthy.
- We slept on our packrafts, which created a huge dry area, allowing us to lay out gear and clothes next to our bags and keep it all dry. The 2011 boats are even bigger than previous models, with the long tail, and work really nicely.
- 100% humidity, being showered by dripping condensation all night, and a very wet insulated jacket couldn't wet-out my Marmot Hydrogen 30 degree down bag. While it was unsettling to see the clumpy balls of down when I got into the bag, it was completely dry by morning, while being warm all night.
- As nice as the 2011 Alpackas are to sleep on, they're equally bad to sit in. The boat has an overall narrower design, which smashed my hips to the point of pain during and after the float. Both feet were crammed in the bow, one in front of the other as there wasn't enough room to wedge them side by side. The narrow dimensions also make the boat slightly tippier side to side, compared to the previous model. However, the tail is amazing. As Roman pointed out, it completely prevents bandersnatching. If you have an old boat, send it in to Sheri and have a tail installed.
- I'm a hiker and I like to go light, so carrying 7-10 lbs of floating gear is not cool unless there's enough floating to make it worth while or the route just isn't possible without it. But, if I am going to carry a boat, etc, I'm taking the biggest boat I can, as they are so much more stable and float through skinny water better, plus being idyllically spacious. Sure, it weighs a little more, but so not as much as the whole floating gear compared to my basepack weight.
- Last trip, I carried my trekking poles the entire time. This time, I left them at home. Never once did I miss them, because in my hand, instead, was my DSLR. With my hands free, I took 1200 photos in three days and even had the camera put away for 4 hours during the driving rain and 6 hours the next day while packrafting. The DSLR allows me to get shots that are straight-up impossible to get with a point and shoot, plus the quality is far superior. And since it's in my hand all day long, it doesn't weigh down my pack.

As I learned last year when J.R. & I attempted this trip, I may be out of school, but the education continues.

And sometimes I bike in sunny weather...

[Alarm]: 'Hey! It's 5:30 am. Get up and go biking.'
[Me]: 'No. Give me a minute to decide what I'm going to do today.'
10 minutes later...
[Alarm]: 'Hey, Lazy. I told you ten minutes ago to GET UP. Do it now.'
[Me]: 'I have the power to end you and I will exercise it NOW! This past week has been exhausting and sleep is a priority.'
7:30 am: Frostbite and River start getting restless (they are sleeping with me on the bed). I take them out and feed them. Back to bed.
10:15 am: Good morning, day. NOW it's time to go biking. 10 hrs of sleep and I feel much better.

Threatening clouds and 80+ degree heat didn't stop me, although I thought about just taking it easy inside my cool cabin.
Nome Creek, here I come.
Driving out, I see this A-hole in a big truck chase a bull moose down the middle of the highway for a quarter of a mile. I remind you, it's 80 degrees. The bull was running down the road and kept doing so because the jerk wouldn't give him space, but kept pressuring him. All he had to do was stop and the moose would have went into the woods. Yeah, moose are dumb. Chase them and they'll just keep running a straight line. Stop and they'll divert from the open path.
Then on the way back down at the end of the day, I see an ATV in the middle of the other lane, riding down a super steep section of the highway (on a big hill/summit), followed by a semi and two other vehicles. WTF was the dude on the ATV thinking?!?! The semi driver was probably so furious - I don't know how he kept control of the semi and didn't run the idiot over. Too bad.

Anyway, I was going biking...

I tried biking up the 'trail' to Mount Prindle, but that didn't turn out so well. It's not much of a trail and was pretty frustrating to bike.
I did learn/have a lesson reinforced (in addition the to previous creek crossing adventures) that clear water streams have slippery rocks, as they are coated in a thin layer of algae. Bike tires don't grip slick, wet rocks too well. So, yeah, I got my feet wet.

From there, I jumped back in the car and drove to the put in for Beaver Creek, then came back up the road and decided to give Table Top Mountain Trail a shot. It's a three mile, straight up, straight down loop (hiking trail), through a burned area, then up to the top of the ridge/mountain.

My car is depicted by the circle, over 2000' below

The day before, I found myself & bike around town & at Chena Lake,
enjoying the beautiful day and relaxing in the sun.

To keep up the sunshine biking trend, I laid some tracks along the Tanana River and got a feel of what it's like to roll a fatty in the mud.
I'm very thankful I taught myself how to ride a perfectly straight line, as it sure helps get me happily dry through places like this (below). In winter, I can ride the track of one cross-country ski.

Another short weekend of catching up on sleep and relaxing in the warm summer sun, while riding the fatbike. Hard to top that.
In the next six weeks, I have two 3-day and two 4-day weekends, which I hope to take the fatbike into the Alaska backcountry and see places like the Wood River, Mount Deborah, the headwaters of the Tok River, the Nenana Glacier, Denali National Park, and a return to Bus 142 on the Stampede Trail.
I'm excited. Time to get ready.

Winter Gear

Imagine hiking in sub-zero windchills for ten miles, then post-holing three feet deep in snowshoes for three miles through the woods, to arrive at a camp site at dark and temps dropping to -15. You're exhausted, in need of calories and your warmest clothes, almost out of water, and need to set-up camp and melt snow for cooking and hydration. So, you do all this and as you light the stove, you realize the fuel pump isn't pressurizing because it's too cold. Uh-oh. That means the stove will barely work. This is where I said, 'Well, you can fix anything by sleeping with it,' in reference to cold weather camping and how most problems are associated with the extreme temperatures. A simple warming up will often fix it. Overnight in a sleeping bag is the method.
What did I learn from this? Pressurize your fuel bottle at home, before you leave for the trip and before you can have it in your sleeping bag the first night. If it doesn't pressurize more when you use it, at least it has some residual pressure from earlier, which it shouldn't have lost.

My old school MSR G Expedition stove has been proven to dominate its prodigy, the XGK. It roared, even at -35, and coupled well with my one gallon pot. For melting snow, size is everything. Although the G (or XGK) is the most reliable multi-fuel expedition stove on the market and has been to the summit of more high elevation mountains in the world than all other stoves combined, I might still opt for my MSR Dragonfly, as it uses the same burner, has a better stove-to-pot contact surface and support, and fits inside the one gallon pot, which the G does not, as it has a rigid fuel line (which I might look into replacing it with a flexible one). [Post-trip update: I made a mylar-covered bubble wrap cover to insulate the top of the pot, to increase heating efficiency as much as possible at extreme temps.]

The homemade GSI Fairshare mug food cozy helped cook 1,000 calories of Ramen, peanut butter, and sesame oil at 30 below. I cut the handle off for a sleeker profile and insulated it with mylar-covered bubble wrap. Also, bring a plastic/lexan spoon instead of titanium or aluminum so it doesn't freeze to your lips and tongue!

I brought two methods of keeping water warm: a one liter Thermos and a Powerade bottle in a Sea-to-Summit neoprene skin inside an OR water bottle parka. The Thermos kept water warm far longer than the bottle parka combo, but the weight difference is huge (1 lb). If I wouldn't have had the Thermos, I would have had ice in a bottle by the time I got to drinking the second liter. Plus, when I did drink the water out of the Thermos, it was hot! That was quite a pick-me-up at -20, after hiking 12 miles.

Snowshoes were the only reasonable means of travel over the windswept crust covering the ridges on our route, as skis would have had little edging ability and very little grip. In most conditions, the snowshoes worked fine, but were way too heavy to walk so far in (Northern Lites would be better). When we got down to treeline, where the snow is deposited, we trudged for three miles as we post-holed three feet deep, while wearing the snowshoes.
What did I learn? There is not an all-around good method for going across and through snow. All means of snow travel have their drawbacks and one must have a variety of means to get through it all. Snowshoes were ok for the ridges, but skis would have been better (and faster!) in the deep snow. I think I might look into a more versatile ski system: boots I can walk long distances in and waxless skis with steel edges.

Knowing I'd have to strap many things to my backpack and have versatile attachment options that must work in extreme temperatures, I brought five ski straps along. They worked flawlessly doing everything from holding down my pants to prevent snow from getting inside my boots to keeping my snowshoes secure on my backpack and holding together my ski poles for supporting the shelter. Stronger than nylon webbing straps and no plastic buckle to break, plus they grip surfaces much better and never loosen.

One thing I'm on the fence with - the GoLite Shangri-La 3, pictured at left. I have nothing but great things to say about it, except that it's hard to stake out in completely unconsolidated sugar snow, which is pretty common in Alaska, especially the colder it gets. This is when it's even more important to have a shelter that's easy to set up. I might get a Stephenson's Warmlite 2R, as it just needs to be pulled tight from end to end, instead of on six corners!

Re: Clothing System for Mt McKinley

Clear skies, high winds, & blazing sun, topped off with -35 in the morning asks a lot out of your clothing.

What didn't work:
-the leather belt that dug into my back. I'm switching to a skinny nylon belt.
-the R1 fleece which wasn't very useful since it's not windproof like the synthetic insulated garments (Nano Puff hoody)
-the fleece liner & shell gloves, which didn't keep my hands warm enough when hiking in cold windy conditions. I went for versatility, but warmer modular glove system would have been better. 
-the Ibex windproof wool boxers, which kept my thighs and butt too warm for hiking. I experienced a lot of cold times on my bike, so I thought they'd be a good addition, but my legs stayed plenty warm when walking.

What worked exceptionally well:
1. VBLs for footwear are awesome. I wore wool liner socks, Ziploc bags, and thick wool socks in Keen Summit County boots and my feet were actually hot most of the time. In camp, even at -35, my feet were very comfortable. Never once got even cool. I'd recommend wearing a mid-weight wool sock over the VBL, as to not overheat your feet while hiking, as I did.
2. Synthetic insulation is amazing. We hiked in synthetic insulated hooded jackets over base layers to stop the wind and stay warm enough. Paired with synthetic base layers, moisture was rapidly pulled away from the skin and through the insulation. If we did get a little sweaty during high activity, we dried out very quickly and the insulation was not compromised as it would have been with down. Even if it is a little too warm for times of high activity, any moisture built up will dissipate rapidly and you'll be warm when activity decreases. While my R1 hoody was nice, I don't like it nearly as much for cold & windy conditions, as I have to put a shell over it, as well, to stop the wind. I'm completely sold on synthetics.
3. I have to contradict myself, however. My Marmot Greenland Baffled Jacket (800 fill down) is awesomely warm for under 2 lbs. It has a great hood, low collar so it doesn't sit right in front of your mouth and get frosted up, and a great zipper that allows access to big internal pockets to keep things warm in frigid temps, like fuel bottle pumps and candy bars.
4. Visor was great for the strong sun. Also helps keep big hoods out of your eyes.
5. It's not really clothing, but I'll have to bring a better facemask now - although my beard kept my face warm, there will be no more beards for winter trips - I'm sick of snotsicles and ice balls.

Frost-nip developing on the left side of my nose as we return to the car

Bike-joring at -36

Took the two girls on a 6 mile bike-joring run with the fatbike at -36 degrees.
Awesome. We all had a blast. They looked about the same as I did, with frost all over their faces, too.
Riding, and by riding I mean being pulled, was as fast as summer-time singletrack riding. Gotta love it on snow.

As the Mercury dips

I can only think of one thing when the temps hit and stay lower than -20 F... snow biking.
Or, maybe 'ice biking' at those temps! It's been at least 25 below for three days now, hitting -35 at my cabin, day and night, and even colder in nearby areas, as pictured below. It's really not all that bad, although vehicles tend to think so!

And speaking of warm clothing (in the last post), it's really surprising how little clothing can keep you warm when biking in the snow. I went for a ride at -34 F, wearing a baselayer shirt and very lightly insulated pullover, and I was plenty warm.

Here's my buddy, JR riding his new fat bike at -42 F. He may look cold, but he was actually sweating!

Or is it Winter?!?!

Middle Tanana Valley TONIGHT...FREEZING RAIN. AREAS OF FOG. LOW 30-35. TUESDAY...FREEZING RAIN. HIGH 35. LOW 30-35. WEDNESDAY...FREEZING RAIN. HIGH 35. SNOW AFTER MIDNIGHT. LOW 30. THANKSGIVING DAY...CHANCE OF SNOW. HIGH 30. LOW 10 ABOVE. FRIDAY...CHANCE OF SNOW. HIGH 15. LOW 5 BELOW. SATURDAY...CHANCE OF SNOW. HIGH ZERO. LOW 20 BELOW. SUNDAY...MOSTLY CLOUDY. HIGH 15 BELOW. LOW 20 BELOW. MONDAY...MOSTLY CLOUDY. HIGH 15 BELOW.

What the crap? We get well over a foot of beautiful, fresh, dry powder snow that sets the tone for an amazing snow year and now it is raining. I actually was doing really well at getting out and enjoying the copious amounts of fluff that was being frequently refreshed and added to by almost daily snow showers. Rain for three days will destroy every bit of that incredible Utah-like powder, creating a big Slushie. Overflow on lakes and creeks, puddles in the roads, and an entire landscape covered in thick, hard snow/ice. Then let the temperatures dip to 20 below zero. Everything will be covered in ice, if any remains from the warm temps. I can't believe it. It might as well be early September again. And the worst part is it's not even confined to Interior Alaska - nearly the whole state is being rained on, with temps hovering around freezing or higher. This will destroy a great portion of our winter and create terrible snow conditions, especially in the mountains, where any fresh snow will be deposited on a hard, icy crust, making avalanches extremely prevalent. There goes any form of winter recreation for quite some time, especially since it's Fairbanks and our normal trend for snow is relatively bleak. One can only hope it will be redeposited, but everyone knows it doesn't snow below zero. And who knows when it will rise above that, if ever, before March.