Thanks, everyone, for reading my post. Just didn’t want someone to sell out and move there without a dose of reality first.

Leopard, much of Alaska is beautiful, but then there are thousands of square miles of the same ol/same ol muskeg–swampy spindly spruce with little mosquito ponds. I remember flying in a bush plane up to Bettles, north of The Circle, and we flew over miles/hours of that. The only way you can travel over it is in winter when it is frozen solid. And then, like the tundra, it is lumpy and difficult. There’s a reason Alaska is sparsely populated. But, yes, some of it is spectacular. The soil is mostly mineral, very little topsoil up where we were. And permafrost underneath which sinks septic tanks–and houses if they are not built on stilts or a meter of gravel. Temperatures–swing widely in the Interior, from -70F in winter to a few days of +104F in summer in Fairbanks.

And Toby C, yes, that website seems to have value. I think, by the looks of the vegetation, that he is south of the Alaska Range. I said in another post, Alaska is great for the young and strong. They will survive if they keep their focus. He has great gear and a great outlook–amassing real survival skills.

It is also great for the old and rich, who have plenty of equipment such as boats that can navigate the silty glacier rivers; bush planes to hop to a hospital if necessary; and all the gear that makes life a little less ‘on the edge’. I enjoyed most of my time there–and I was surprisingly warm in winter. I am always cold down here in Oklahoma, but when it hit -20F I think I had an internal thermostat that clicked on :) Dry, still winters with the frostflakes filling the air, sparkling in the low sunlight–like a beautiful fantasy. Finding an inebriated neighbor frozen to death in the snow, not so great. His dog was waiting by him…

It saddens Bushrat and myself to think that we have finally gotten a little past the ability to take on the world. Yet, on the other hand, many who were born there in Alaska, died from one stupid mistake. It only takes a second, then the village is out looking for your body among the driftwood spruce snags that pile up on the riverbanks. Or in the snow where your snowmachine dumped over on top of you.