Guess what I did Monday morning

April 14, 2020 - Tuesday morning

14 degrees/clear skies/windy

Pentoga Road

Ah, someone just hit me in the head, put me out of my misery, would you? Just a few days ago, the temperature was approaching sixty degrees, the irises and other early flowers were popping out of the ground, the bluebirds and swallows were making nests, and Sargie was busy working on the lawn.

With Sargie's humorous urging, I was actually contemplating jumping in the pond. It would have been one of those frivolous silly springtime acts, a reminder that I'm no longer a young man, but somewhere deep inside, there remains a spark of youth.

But all that aside, it's winter again.  

To make matters worse, Carl the Weatherman says it's not to significantly warm up until later this week. 

C'mon, Carl, it's April, for cryin' out loud. We're supposed to have showers. You know, bring May flowers and all that good stuff.

Wind? Monday's wind would have given a good old fashioned arctic blizzard a run for its money.



At one point, I considered going for a walk, but was afraid each time I raised a foot, the gale would actually blow me backwards. Instead, I remained at home, cleared the drive, played in the shop a bit, then called the couch home for the rest of the day.

The foot or more of snow that fell overnight on Sunday has settled into a more palatable five or six inches. When this arctic blast moves along and temperatures moderate, it should disappear fairly quickly. 

Time to get the blood moving. I'm going for my walk and after, work out in the shop for a while. Since it's still winter, Sargie and I will have to be content to snuggle on the couch, throw logs at the wood stove, and watch Netflix movies this afternoon.

Like a glacier inching down a mountainside at a snail's pace, so is the snow sliding from the metal roof overhead.

After all, a man's work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Today's random Alaska picture:

A lot of the arctic is flat, causing rivers and streams to meander in a ribbon-like fashion.

At the time, GPS technology didn't work very well in the arctic. The latitude was so far north that most of the GPS satellites were below the horizon. Consequently, I used only a compass, map, common sense, and a healthy dose of luck with which to navigate.

For the first long distance trip made on snowmobile, I became confused after being advised to "just follow the river" to a village over a hundred miles away (as the crow flies). It took  two days with an overnight stay on the river to reach my destination. 

First I'd go north, then east, then west, and to my horror, south, back towards the direction from which I came. Despite all my previous training, I soon became convinced the compass was malfunctioning. My only option was to continue following the river.

Having passed my first class in the College of Hard Knocks, Navigation 101, the return trip was charted in a straight line and I arrived home after one easy day of travel.