The end of February has been a momentous time these last several years* -- it's the end of austral summer and most contracts in Antarctica. As my first seasonal gig it set the timeline of October - February. So this time of year means a return to green grass and grocery stores and, if you know what's good for you, glaciers. Four years ago (previous Leap Day), a friend and I hiked up the Rees River valley in New Zealand. The sunny days were almost painfully beautiful; we also spent a day at a refuge hut playing cards with our ten new best friends while waiting out a deluge of rain.
*this is the ninth time; my near-decade of seasonal life paused for a year back in Michigan, but don't worry, I still had a temporary food service job that fluctuated with seasonal tourism, and regularly involved cleaning bits of dough and canned tuna out of the sink.
The following year was when covid threw a wrench in everyone's plans, threatening plague and breaking down society. I couldn't go to Antarctica, so I sought escape in northern Alaska. A few months of burger flipping and truckers ranting about climate change hoax passed surprisingly quickly. Despite the sense of the world collapsing, a friend and I decided to tie a bow on our Arctic winter with a ski-road-trip to Denali and Homer. Much like my first season way south, I thought way north would be a one-timer, but the endearing familiarity of decrepit infrastructure and lackluster food combined with stunning scenery and unique recreational opportunities reeled me back in.
Some coworkers live here year-round, but I stuck to my usual cycle. Four months is a good amount of time to thoroughly enjoy a place but not grow too discontent with repeatedly jamming a giant pipe cleaner into the fryer oil drainpipe to dislodge carbonized old hunks of chicken. Four months is also when you qualify for a sizable bonus. So once I reached that date, another friend and I headed to ski in Denali and I gave winter camping a try.
In partial honor of a significant birthday, last year involved a great deal of travel. The end of February found me, finally, back in Michigan, to thoroughly wash my socks and dream up what would come next. An apartment! Unlimited avocados and fresh pastries! A dating pool > 5! Swimming laps at a pool! But, best laid plans, or whatever Bobby said...
It's the end of February and, as usual, it's about time to pack up, take a long flight, and do some fun stuff. I will visit a glacier -- in the Alps! -- with more than a friend for company.
