Frigidology - An Intro Level Course

There's been no warming in our little corner of the globe recently.

This has been one of the colder winters I've experienced in my 20 plus years of living up in the Arctic. The lows at night are dipping into the minus 30s, and with even a bit of a breeze the windchill plummets to near minus 50. I don't think we've been above the freezing point since way back in October. Last night was so cold I set my husky free to warm up by running around all night. And considering the amount of garbage bags he "recycled" in front of our house, he was quite active.

Since many among my faithful readership have not yet had to cope with such temperatures yet, I think a frank discussion of a few of the more popular concepts about cold is in order.

When you relieve yourself outside at extremely low temperatures, your pee will freeze in mid air.
FALSE. USUALLY. Sure, if you pee out the door of an airplane flying at 5,000 feet it probably will be crystals by the time it hits the ground. But under normal urethra to ground ratios you will end up carving yellow holes into the snow. Actually, the real trick about peeing outside at cold temperatures is getting about 1" of extremely retracted organ to stick out through 2" of outerwear.

Things start to break at very cold temperatures.
TRUE. Around minus 35 metal gets really brittle, so unless you are careful it is easy to snap the head off a bolt. Most plastics fare no better: a 25 foot extension cord will try to snake itself back into a 4 foot snarl of coils. And forget about putting up Christmas lights when it gets frigid - better to start in July, the only month up here without snow.

The colder it gets, the less slippery ice becomes.
TRUE. USUALLY. It is actually a thin film of water caused by friction which makes ice so slippery. So it follows that the colder it gets, the less water will be produced by walking over it. The one exception is when I walk on ice - it is slippery no matter what the temperature.

After a really hot sauna, you can roll around in the snow for a few minutes without getting cold.
UNPROVEN. Someone else try it, not me.

Hell can actually freeze over.
TRUE. I can see the proof out my window right now.

Sound travels further in cold weather.
TRUE. UNFORTUNATELY. Now I could go into a lengthy explanation concernig relative air densities and humidity, but suffice it to say I can hear every freaking snowmobile whine up and down the four quarters of this burg. All freaking night long.

So I think I've touched the basics, but if any of you guys have any questions I'd be happy to answer them. In the meantime, be sure to button up - there's to end in sight.

Dog Race Ends Minus a Leg

Nunavik's annual Ivakkak dog team race ended today in Salluit. Already over a week late and dogged by adverse weather from the get go in Quaqtaq way back on March 6, it was decided to move the finish line to my home town and eliminate the last portion to Ivujivik.

Although the weather conditions were a relatively balmy minus 17 C, the winds on the ice by the town's shore brought the windchill down well below minus 30 C - so cold I froze my fingers twice while taking pictures. But a large number of people turned out to cheer the tired teams across the tape. The winds were so strong that the lines holding the pennants and community flags were bowed outward dramatically.

The race was won by Peter Keatainak, who has had a virtual lock on the trophy for the past four years, and his younger partner Peter Qisiiq. Both hail from Kangiqsujuaq, and were the odds-on favourites amongst the bookies. Coming in a very close second was 65-year old Tamusi Sivuarapik and his son Johnny, pictured above being hoisted by the crowd atop their qamutik in honour of their accomplishment. The clothing worn by this team is traditional, and in stark contrast to the high-tech garb of "professional" racers in more southern parts of North America and Scandinavia. The leggings, by the way, are made of caribou skins. I've tried them before and found them toasty warm, but the fur sheds like nobody's business.

A couple of dogs were on the limp and had to be brought in by ski-doo, but the thing which struck me the strongest was the placid demeanour of the normally exciteable, and potentially agressive huskies. They let themselves be patted by anyone who wanted to, and seemed to realize their journey was at an end, for this year at least.

Tomorrow night is the awards ceremony at our town hall, and if I know my fellow residents well there will be a square dance afterwards.