Horsin' around
Don Coldsmith, Syndicated Columnist
Originally published 02:17 p.m., July 7, 2008
Updated 02:17 p.m., July 7, 2008
I well remember the chapter on Alaska in my Junior High School Geography book. Its title is unforgettable: “Land of the Midnight Sun.” That was a thrilling phrase, hinting at romance and adventure and mystery. Somehow the idea of a place where it’s still sunny at midnight captured my imagination. I’ve always enjoyed long summer evenings and quiet twilight. I didn’t completely understand how the midnight sun thing works. (I still don’t, but it’s because of the seasons and the earth’s tilt and all that. In winter, of course, it’s dark except for an hour or two about noon). Even though it’s always been fascinating to me, I’d almost completely forgotten to look for it on our trip to Alaska.
That was a pretty long day, the first one. Alaska has its own time zone, which makes a three hour difference from Central time. We flew out of Kansas City at 6:30 a.m., crossed into Mountain time to stop at Salt Lake City — then on to Seattle in the Pacific time zone, a two hour layover and on to Juneau, Alaska, on its own time.
Of course each of those zone changes made it an hour earlier. When we arrived in Juneau and checked into the hotel, it was only 4:45 p.m. However, by our time at home, that’s nearly eight o’clock. And, our day had started at 4:30 a.m.
But then it was time to go to work. I was scheduled to sign books at a mall bookstore from 6 to 8 p.m. (That’s 9 to 11 in the time zone where we started the day).
The thought crossed my mind that it was a strange time of day to have a book signing, but I hadn’t really figured it out yet. About the long daylight, that is.
I signed books, visited with customers and headed back to the hotel about 8:30. (11:30 Central time at home).
We hadn’t eaten since we landed, so stopped in the hotel restaurant to get some nourishment. It was only then that we realized that it really wasn’t dark yet, even when we finished eating. By that time it was 10 p.m. and the sun was just setting (1 a.m. at home — we’d had a 20 hour day and we slept pretty well).
Farther north in Anchorage, we really saw the difference. The sun sets later and later as we approach the Arctic Circle. At 11 p.m., all the downtown shops were still open and the sun just preparing to set.
Another 200 miles north at Fairbanks, we were really impressed. The sun literally did not set until after midnight. We were like kids who hate to go to bed before it gets dark. We were afraid we’d miss something.
There really were things going on, too. While we were in Fairbanks, there was the occasion of an annual run to raise money for deprived children, or some similar worthy cause. There was an impressive amount of advertising promotion about it. The starting time: 10 p.m.! One of the runners straggled past our hotel about midnight and the sun wasn’t completely down yet.
Does it get completely dark at all, dark enough to see the stars? Well, yes. Somewhere between 1 and 3 a.m., for an hour or so, apparently. And, we were there within a day or two of the summer solstice, the longest day of the year, which made the dark part the shortest.
We’d start to get ready for bed, draw the drapes and all, but then there was a temptation to look outside one more time. There might be something interesting going on.
On our last night in Alaska, it was that way. We’d have an early plane to catch, so had done all but our last minute packing. Edna pulled back the drape for one last peek. It was just midnight and the sun was a thin sliver of fire through the trees. She gave a pleasant little gasp of surprise and pointed off to the south. (I guess it was south. Directions are hard to figure when the sun rises and sets in the same general area).
Anyway, there we stood, at midnight, watching a beautiful sunset. As an extra added attraction, someone was launching a colorful hot air balloon about a mile away. I remembered a line from one of Robert Service’s poems about the Yukon. “There are strange things done in the midnight sun — ”
See you down the road.