The fashion trends

Bug season is in full swing now, which means that depending on the unfathomable forces of nature, even a thirty second walk from the lab to the dining hall means attracting a cloud of bloodsucking mozzies. It is barely tolerable for that thirty second period, so naturally when out in the field a bit more protection is desired. Most people opt for bug shirts; a tan or kakhi smock-like shirt sporting netting in select areas (underarms/sides) for ventilation purposes. The large hood with a zipperable black mesh screen that covers the face completes the image of someone who is ready to fend off something a lot more dangerous than mosquitoes. Such as aliens. I hear they are quite ineffective against bears though. Not quite sure how they would stand against aliens.

The sun never sets

I don’t think that I’ve broached this subject yet, which is strange because I feel like it is central to this place: the sun never sets. Ever. Its such a strange thing because it completely destroys any sense of time passing. My time here feels like one long day, which it essentially is; one long day that never ends. Even though it is quite dark in the weatherports, the light streaming in through the cracks between pieces of tarp is a constant reminder that night does not exist up here. It also makes going outside to get to the bathroom in the middle of the night a very confusing experience.

The local flora and fauna

So I know that I’ve already gushed about how awesomely weird the tundra is and how its nothing like I’ve ever seen before, but I must go on. I went on an awesome hike last Sunday up this mountain called Molar (because… it looks like a molar?) which was my first experience hiking in the Arctic. I had been warned by people who actually know what they’re talking about that hiking up here is not like hiking elsewhere, and though you may think you’re a good hiker elsewhere, the terrain (your choice between squishy tundra or loose boulders) and lack of hiking infrastructure (ie paths) make it slightly more difficult. Luckily, this hike was an “easy” one.

When my mind wasn’t being distracted by thoughts of the mountain collapsing on top of me or of being mauled by that yonder herd of Dall sheep, I actually found it very enjoyable to scope out the next bend the slope and see if it was climbable. Sometimes it was. Sometimes others thought that I have the unnatural talent to find the worst way to get from point A to point B.

One of my most memorable moments of the hike was when we were scrambling up a seemingly unending very vertical channel of stair-like moss covered boulders. The moss was so thick and springy that it was easy to climb, and I was comforted by the thought that if I fell it would be the best cushioning material ever. As I would take a break every couple of meters by resting my face on the thick spongy moss, I thought to myself, this has got to be the weirdest place in the world.