Fall came late to the Anchorage Hillside this year. The winds didn't go over 80 mph until early November, and when they did, they ripped leaves off the alders.
Back in the day, leaves never stayed on the alders into November. The winds ripped them off in September or October.
As a serious waterfowl hunter, it has been hard to ignore this aspect of our climatic shift. A series of Labrador retrievers and I have lived for fall storms for decades. We counted on howling winds to ground southbound mallards and pintails in the Portage and Twentymile marshes at the head of Turnagain Arm.
There have been fewer and fewer of those fall storms in past years, and more and more mild days filled with mosquitoes and no-see-ums. The bugs hung around well into October this year.
Stick with camo
October used to be snow time. The old rule was that there would be snow on the ground by the tenth of the month at Portage, and the switch would be on from fall camouflage to winter-white for the last few days or weeks of the duck season before the big freeze.
Now, the snow falls less often and when it does, it doesn't stick. Camo remains the color of choice. Winter whites stand out like the swans that now linger for weeks.
Freeze-up comes later too. This is a phenomenon well documented farther north in the state. Scientists report ice-over on lakes in the Barrow area is coming an average 5.9 days later than 20 years ago, and the volume of ice freezing down to lake beds has decreased by 22 percent.
The lack of ice is not unique to Barrow. There used to be more ice in Anchorage too. Once the wet tundra and swamp areas on the Hillside froze up in October, they stayed frozen.
The dogs and I could run or mountain bike the wetlands above the house in a snow short year. Those wetlands were semi-frozen earlier this year. You couldn't ride a bike, but if you were careful you could hike or run by dancing on the tussocks and the patches of ice that formed in the latter part of October when local temperatures tracked what the National Weather Service charts as the long-term norm.
By the start of November, we were outside the norm. Again. It has become a common pattern in recent years.
Since the start of this month, every day has gone above the normal high, and only two have reached the normal low. Beyond that, the daily lows have barely dipped down as cold as the normal highs the last four days.
The low on Monday was 33 degrees, the high 48. Most snow is gone on the Hillside. So is most of the ice in the swamps. And this looks to remain the case through the week or longer.
Climatologists have talked about Anchorage becoming the new Seattle. Some thought they were joking. The joke looks more and more like reality.
'Alaska is going to be the next Florida'
"The best place really is Alaska," Camillo More, a geography professor at the University of Hawaii told the New York Times. "Alaska is going to be the next Florida by the end of the century."
The latter claim might be a little extreme, but it is increasingly looking like Anchorage will be a better place for cyclists than skiers. For those committed to skiing, Fairbanks maybe?
In fact, with the Times hyping how "Anchorage Might Be the Place to Be,'' it could be time to escape to Fairbanks to avoid the crowds, although it's hard to believe things will change for the better there November through January.
The tilt of the planet isn't expected to change. Winters will still be long and dark. Seattle at 48 degrees latitude is bad enough in these months. Bare ground and rain only make the dark darker.
Snow makes things brighter. So let's all hope the climatologists are wrong, and at least some of the old Southcentral hangs on. Alyeska Resort, for one, would happily trade rain for:
Over the river, and through the wood,
To Grandfather's house we go;
The horse knows the way to carry the sleigh
Through the white and drifted snow.
Over the river, and through the wood,
To Grandfather's house away!
We would not stop for doll or top,
for 'tis Thanksgiving Day.
Contact Craig Medred at craig@alaskadispatch.com