Our first trip to Alaska was in June. We had been living in
Germany and arrived without children on our “house-hunting” trip authorized by
the military. Because we had come half-a-world away in only a day, we had not
acclimated to the time change. Our sponsor had kindly invited us to stay in his
home and our bedroom was in the darker basement, but when we went outside and
began actually house-hunting the daylight hours seemed to never end.
With
our jet-lagged days being upside down, we were moving around zombie-like, with
burning eyes and vitality drained away. The helpful realtor showed us a number
of homes and we immediately determined that Eagle River was vastly preferable
to Anchorage. On the second or third day, we found a house we thought we could
live in there, and after doing all the official things one does in buying a
home, we were left to our own devices for a few days.
We had
never experienced a 24-hour long day before, and in our time-zone compromised
state didn’t fully appreciate it. Leaving Anchorage for Phoenix, our bodies and
our brains were normalizing and we reunited with the kids, buying a used GMC
Suburban, and outfitting ourselves for the long drive north.
Summertime
daylight hours in Phoenix are much warmer and shorter than they are in Anchorage.
The jackets we had put in our suitcases for Alaska were packed away in Arizona
in favor of shorts and t-shirts. By the time we took a little vacation, tuned
up the Suburban for the trip, and headed north, it was July. Soon we were in
the pine forests of Colorado, cooler and calmer than Arizona had been. We
caravanned along with my parents who towed their 5th wheel trailer
and made our way to Bellingham, Washington where we boarded a ferry and cruised
North to Alaska.
The day
lengths began to stretch out again, and we were glad for the coats in our
suitcases. We camped out on the deck of the ferry and spent 3 nights onboard our
way to Haines, Alaska where we drove off the ferry and began our 800-mile drive
across Canada to reach Anchorage.
By the
mid-August, our days were noticeably shorter, and by the middle of September
they were normal, Germany-Arizona wise. And no wonder; on September 22nd,
the days are the same length the world over. After that, the days begin to
shorten, and the further north you are, the shorter they become.
Trick-or-treating
in Phoenix required shorts under a costume. In Germany, a jacket was advisable.
In Eagle River, a snow-suit was a better choice. The days were getting noticeably
shorter and there was snow!
Thanksgiving
time was real winter, and by the time Christmas arrived, days were about 5½ hours
long. The shortened daylight hours lead to depression for many people, and
there is a general gloominess to the world, but on December 21st,
the days start getting a few seconds longer. By mid February, we are gaining
over 5 minutes per day. That is over a half-hour per week, and assuming the
weather is letting the sun in (not necessarily a good assumption), circadian
rhythms get bounced and moods improve while the whole world looks more cheery.
On
March 21st, the length of days is again the same the world over, and
after that, Alaskan days are longer than everywhere to the south. March, and
occasionally April, dump pretty good snows on the Anchorage area as winter
fades in rage, and late April and May are often sunny with ever-lengthening
days.
All of
the things people have been preparing for all winter suddenly present
themselves at once in June, and the grass begins to grow, the gardens have to
be planted, the fish have to be caught, the mountains have to be climbed, the
house has to be maintained, and visitors have to be entertained. It’s just
lucky there’s 24 hours a day to do it in.
By
July, the days are again getting shorter, but are still long enough for
everyone to be burned out all the time. And in August, where the days are noticeably
shorter, the cycle begins again.
