Backstory: Consistently Inconsistent

Illustration by Alex Nabaum

Driving through Portage, Alaska on my way to Turnagain Pass in early February, the question people always ask me pops into my head: “What are the conditions like in Alaska this season?”

Rain drums down on my windshield so hard that my wipers struggle to keep up, and I think of about 10 different responses to that question, enough that I would run out of breath if answering aloud. Over the last five south central Alaskan winters, temperatures have swung from one end of the thermometer to the other like the wipers before me. And in a state where rideable terrain starts at sea level, the difference in a few degrees determines whether low-elevation terrain is accessible or not.

During the 2011/12 season, Alaska’s storms started in the far western Pacific, hurtling eastward under the Aleutian Islands and rallying cold air from the north. Winter began in mid October that year and carried on through April as huge snowfalls, brought on by a marriage of low pressure and cold air, accumulated even at sea level. Nine hundred inches of snow fell that season.

The winters following that year have been off. We’ve seen a consistent rise in temperatures with few cold spells, and meteorologists are blaming above-average water temperatures across the Pacific for these warm Alaskan winters. The Pineapple Express has plagued southern Alaska, too, the weather pattern drawing storms from the north Pacific and temperatures from as far south as Hawaii, rather than farther north.

Pineapple Express storms can bring massive amounts of moisture to south central Alaska—10 feet of snow over five-day periods and wind gusts topping 100 mph. It’s not uncommon for a Pineapple Express to leave a snow line at 3,000 feet, however, but last season’s storms brought rain up to 6,000 feet. Some of the heli-skiing companies even decided to ground their helicopters until cooler temperatures fell upon the area.

These warm winters are a struggle. Because so many favorite zones start near sea level, the heavy rains have kept the groundcover looking like its summer, and few people are willing to bushwhack to snow line and then back at the day’s end. But Turnagain Pass, the Seward Highway’s high point, offers easier access to higher terrain.

Steady rain beats down the grass outside my car window as I head up the pass. The scene reminds me of August, not February. But I gain elevation, and the meager snowpack begins to gain depth as I near the peak of the highway.

When I park at one of Turnagain’s many pullouts, I feel as if I’ve traveled through the seasons. In just five miles, I’ve gained 1,015 feet, transitioning from green grass to 10 feet of snow. I’ve arrived at winter.

I begin skinning up the damp snow to Tincan Peak. During winters that hinge on just a few degrees, I realize the fragility of a life dedicated to riding snow. Today, however, I am thankful for elevation gain; that I can leave the rain behind and climb into a deep, cold and stable snowpack.

With these recent wet winters followed by one of the warmest summers ever recorded, I fear for the planet’s wintery future. But, for now, I only hope that the next storm will bring snow.

Related posts:

Speak Your Mind

*

css.php