Winter Life on Alaska's Kenai Peninsula | The Other Face of Alaska [S1-E6]

Welcome to Alaska in the depths of winter. Perhaps you, like us, always wondered what this land is like in its winter form. We are here on the Kenai Peninsula, living in the small town of Seward, immersing ourselves in a version of Alaska many travelers will never experience. We just returned from daring adventures across the state, witnessing wonders that surpassed our wildest expectations. And now we settle back into cabin life, ready to take in and discover what the rest of this Alaskan winter holds in store. Join us. This winter we have found a pure sense of wonder in simply getting outside and exploring this frozen world. In the summer, Victor Creek is a rushing mountain river carving steep canyon walls on its way to Kenai Lake. In the winter, it is another place entirely. Like many creeks and rivers here on the Kenai Peninsula, Victor Creek is fed by a monumental force lurking just around those mountains. Following the creek back into the range reveals the source of its flow. Perched high amongst the surrounding peaks, Mother Goose Glacier carves a place for herself within the Kenai Range, her meltwater feeding the powerful carving force of Victor Creek. Eight minutes up the road, a popular ski trail awaits. By no means are we seasoned cross-country skiers, but nonetheless, we have caught the bug. Trail River is the perfect place for us. Flat, for the most part, with a particularly special treat awaiting at the end. The lake is steaming. You know what that means? It means the water is warmer than the air. Crazy. Best thing ever. The little things in life. A hot beverage and a good view. Kenai Lake cuts like a giant scythe across the face of the Kenai Peninsula. 22 miles long and reaching over 500 feet in depth, it feeds the Kenai River, world-renowned as an angler's paradise. Over the winter, a thin crust of ice forms on the lake. And when it melts in the spring, once more you can see the lake's bright turquoise color, giving away its provenance as a glacially fed waterway. Nature has been one of the forces getting us out of the cabin, pulling our heads from the deep sands of our winter work. The other has been people. Our friendships deepen with those we have met in town, and we are humbled by just how warm and welcoming this community is. We have been to a lot of places on the Art Bivariate journey, and a lot of places around the world. But there is something special here in Seward. Coming here felt like walking into a very warm hug. Music is certainly a force that has provided a pathway for us to connect deeper with community. Jose Luis continues to participate in the community band, preparing for the Spring Pops concert. And I am volunteering and diving into a week of songwriting with the children of Seward Elementary School. Together, the students of first through fifth grade are writing their own original song. Each grade tackling a part of the three-layer song cake, as we call it. Chords, lyrics, and melody. And as always, what the children come up with blows every adult in the room away. And even though everyone is in winter mode, that does not mean everyone is hiding away at home all the time. On the contrary, we are delighted that we are here to experience a few winter events unlike any that we've experienced before. Like the Seward Polar Bear Jump Off. This festival is held in collaboration with the American Cancer Society. And it involves a whole weekend of events throughout the community. Like an auction fundraiser to benefit Kenai Peninsula children with cancer. The next day, a parade snakes through downtown Seward on its way to the marina. The main stars of the parade are the jumpers. Those crazy beautiful souls who are about to brave the frigid waters of Resurrection Bay. Water temperatures in Seward, Alaska average 41 degrees Fahrenheit at this time of year. The body experiences cold shock when suddenly immersed in water of this temperature. Immediately affecting breathing, heart rate, and blood pressure. Hence the well-equipped safety divers here to make sure every jumper gets out of the water safely and as quickly as possible. In true form, the community shows up for this fun and important event. Altogether, over a quarter of a million dollars is raised. Another festival rolls around. This time in nearby Moose Pass, 28 miles off the Seward Highway. Here in Moose Pass, Trail Lake has completely frozen over and the town is celebrating its annual winter rendezvous. Among the activities are ice golfing, which is as entertaining as it sounds. And there's ice fishing, which is new for both of us. I am from Wisconsin, where ice fishing is indeed a thing, but I have actually never witnessed it up close. Jose Luis is from Nicaragua, where of course ice fishing was never something he witnessed growing up. We are both fascinated. At the bottom, that's one, two, three, four, five, and it counts up to 15. And then you can go like this and you jig, and if you don't have any of those pink ones come in around below and above, there's no fish right here, you move. With each festival and community event, we become more curious about the history of Seward. It doesn't take much digging to learn that this community experienced one of the most catastrophic natural disasters in recorded history. On March 27, 1964, a magnitude 9.2 earthquake struck Alaska. Its epicenter was 12 miles north of Prince William Sound and 75 miles east of Anchorage, or approximately 91 miles from Seward, as the crow flies. Lasting 4.5 minutes, it was, to this day, the largest recorded earthquake in U.S. history, and it continues to be the second largest earthquake we human beings have ever recorded on planet Earth. It was felt 1,200 miles away in Seattle, causing the space needle to noticeably sway, and sloshing occurred in waterways as far away as Texas and Louisiana. Coastal towns across the region were devastated, in particular Whittier, Valdez, and Seward. In mere seconds, underwater landsliding caused an entire section of Seward's waterfront to slip into the sea, taking docks and harbor facilities with it. Fractures ruptured the ground, destroying businesses and homes. Then tsunamis hit, completing the devastation. In all, 13 people were killed, 5 injured, 86 homes completely destroyed, 260 homes heavily damaged, and the town's harbor facilities and economic base nearly wiped out completely. This history is potent, and it is recent. Perhaps it helps explain the draw and the spirit of this place and its people. Those who live in Seward know this history. They know that an equally powerful earthquake could strike at any time. Yet, they continue to live here, and we imagine it has a lot to do with the staggering beauty of this land and the richness of its community. Alaska is no stranger to earthquakes. It is home to 11% of all the world's recorded earthquakes. Out of the 10 largest earthquakes in U.S. history, 7 occurred in Alaska. And since 1900, Alaska has experienced a magnitude 8 or higher quake every 13 years. Why is Alaska home to so many earthquakes? In short, it is this. The Aleutian Trench stretches 1,800 miles from the Gulf of Alaska to Russia. It marks the boundary between two plates of the Earth's crust. Here, the colder, denser Pacific Plate subducts beneath the more buoyant North American Plate. Anywhere plates converge, stress is bound to build up. And when it is released, the shock waves produced can be so faint as to barely be felt, or so great that they can devastate entire towns. It is now early spring, and we can feel a change of season just around the corner. Or so we think. The Seward Community Band puts on its annual springtime pop concert, including some absolute crowd favorites. With the advent of spring, the energy in town begins to shift ever so slightly, and we begin to feel the wee stirrings of a community that undergoes a massive transformation into its summer form. And that is why we are all so taken off guard by this. In two short days, we receive a monumental amount of snowfall. I grew up in Wisconsin. Jose Luis lived years in Chicago. But neither of us has ever experienced something like this. The entire property is absolutely buried in snow. What were small burns just a few days earlier are now mountains. Welcome to spring in Alaska! And this is just one day of snow in the spring. Winter is going out with a bang. We work around the clock to clear the heavy snow from the property and from our bus. Our bus that is supposed to be getting out of here in just a few short weeks. We are starting to get nervous. With all this snow, will we even be able to get the bus out in time? The unexpected deluge of snow does come with an upside. We set our bus worries aside to join in the final group ski of the season put on by the Seward Nordic Ski Club. And in true form, the community here shows just how delightful it is. If you are going to hit the trails with your friends, why not do it in full costume? Of course, this pair of jet setters goes as Goose and Maverick. And why not follow it all up with live music and dancing downtown? Because together, that's where the good stuff is. It feels so sudden, but just like that, our winter in Seward, Alaska comes to a close. We look back and reflect on everything we have seen, experienced, and lived over these past five months. We think back to that fateful decision to either play it safe and come in the summer or jump into the unknown and try our hand at an Alaskan winter. We both agree, our life experience has been made infinitely richer by choosing the unknown. And now, there's only the slight complication of reviving our home on wheels and freeing it from the snows of March. And this is where the most precious part of our life in Seward comes full circle. The friends we have made over the winter set aside time in their busy lives to come help dig us out. Operation Free Bobby Bus is a success. And in a few short hours, the path is cleared. And now the only question remains, will she crank on? Will her tires get stuck in the thawing ground? Will she have enough traction to safely make it down the ice covered driveway? The moment of truth arrives. All right, it's that time to get back on the road again. Here we go. This bus is our home. It's our studio. And it is the heart of the Art With Area project. It also weighs 23,000 pounds and does not have snow tires. So to say that this is a nerve-wracking moment for us is the understatement of the century. Doing good. Start turning now. Turn now. I got you. Come straight. There you go. Isn't it amazing how it can all work out in the end? Every worry flies out the window as we drive north. We are now headed out for a whole new set of adventures across Alaska. It will be a spring, summer, and fall full of art and music, history, and nature. A few knowns, but mostly unknowns. We are so excited for all the adventures that lie in store. And we invite you to come along with us next time on Art With Area. Hey guys, if you enjoyed this video, be sure to give us a like. Subscribe to our channel. Send us a comment below. And for exclusive content and a behind-the-scenes view of the Art With Area journey, join us on Patreon. See you over on Patreon.