The Sun's Gonna Shine Again

It's hard for me to remember things as a server such as who ordered Diet Coke because I don't give a shit.  I'm oddly fascinated by this lack of attention to detail as Editor Claire was formerly so invested in the proper employment of punctuation, page layout, and index development.  I'm trying to perfect my technique handling biscuit and potato roll dough, and I clean with adequate enthusiasm -- but my hosting/serving is mediocre at best.

There are many diverting things crowding my brain and reducing its interest in recording whose burger gets tomatoes on it.  The river steamed mythically for a few days as it iced over; the sun crept lower and disappeared below the horizon for the next two months; moonglow lit the trail for night skiing; a horde of dogs whipped our sled over the tundra; Cleo and I gossiped over a glass of wine in the ladies' bathroom; I transformed butter reserves into 500 cookies; and a bush plane carried off my favorite bike hobo.

No more polar bear plunge access.

See you somewhere soon, comrade!

Doggies pulling like beasts.

Wintopia

After a few flirtations with hypothermia last year, I committed to always taking extra layers skiing.  A couple days ago, we finally plunged down to proper winter temps; -1F isn't too bad for these parts, but somehow every ten minutes I went from toasty to chilled and back, resulting in a slow-motion fashion show, pulling on and peeling off to briefly parade assorted tops and gloves.  Today I achieved a dual-shirt equilibrium and was able to enjoy the view through unfrosted glasses the whole time.

Biking is a beast of a different kind.  We have a small fleet of fat-tires to grind through powder.  Churning over sand dune-like hills calls for, unfortunately, the opposite of the technique of standing for extra leverage on single-speed trash bikes that I've been honing over the last decade or two.  I'm learning to quell that instinct, downshift, and keep my butt in the seat for adequate traction.

A lot of tourists ask (incredulously) what draws us to live and work here, particularly when buffeted by wind on cold dark nights awaiting the aurora.  When I say there's good skiing, it's both an honest and deflective answer.  I'll flip your burgers and wash your plates but I won't try to explain what Thoreau so aptly wrote: "The snow lying deep on the earth dotted with young pines and the very slope of the hill on which my house is placed, seemed to say, Forward!"

shared moose path

Krista pet all of Dan's dogs that day while I stayed just beyond chain's reach.