Fairbanks - Winter Walks in Creamer’s Field
/During our time in Fairbanks, one of our favorite daily pastimes was walking in Creamer’s Field. Last summer when we visited, the fields were teeming with sandhill cranes. We walked miles of paths through the fields, observing the cranes and taking in the natural beauty of the wooded acreage, strolling sometimes in the midday sun and sometimes in the long-lasting evening sun. It was glorious. We wondered if it would be as wonderful in the winter. It is!
Snow-packed trails have been cut around and through the fields, perfect for walking, and cross-country skiing… with or without dogs in the lead.
A network of Hard-packed trails meandered through the fields and forest.
Quite a difference from the grassy fields where sandhill cranes rested during their migration last summer.
In some areas, dog sleds are allowed. Mushers have the right-of-way. We didn’t see any dog sleds, but occasionally we could hear the dogs barking.
The snow is light and powdery… great for skiing, not so good for making snowmen. Whenever we wandered off the packed path, the snow was 18”-24” deep and we sank in well over the tops of our boots, subsequently resulting in cold, wet feet. We concentrated on keeping to the paths.
Each day we donned our layers of long underwear, wool socks, scarves, and heavy parkas, arranged our parka hoods over our balaclavas, pulled on our heavy boots, and set out, like Pillsbury dough boys, on a different walking path. Fairbanksians considered the temperatures quite warm at -5F… especially after the -50F they’d experienced the previous weeks. Being from Las Vegas, we found it a bit nippy, and even all layered up, we felt the chill. The beauty of the area, however, far outweighed any minor cold discomfort and we quickly acclimated to the cold.
All layered up and still cold.
We plodded along the paths, snow crunching loudly under our footfalls. We noted different sounds in different parts of the fields… sometimes crrrr-unch, but sometimes a squeak and crunch. Most days a muted sun hovered low in the sky.
Lenticular clouds caused by the Chinook winds some 100 miles away in the Alaska Range provided a sunny orange glow on the horizon that was especially beautiful when viewed through the copse of trees.
Migrating sandhill cranes are gone now, but hardy residents like black-capped chickadees and ravens still made their presence known.
A network of paths meandered around the snowbound fields leading us through birch and evergreen forests. Supple birch trees bowed under the weight of the snow and formed grand arches under which we walked, praying we wouldn’t be caught in an avalanche of snow falling from above as we passed. Majestic evergreens, their boughs dressed in snowy winter coats, added depth and color to the thickets of white birch around them.
Each day we chose a different path to walk and each day yielded more beauty and awe. This is a place one could return to over and over. Maybe we should consider living in Alaska for a season or two? Food for thought, huh?
