Walking with my son, aka Younger Brother, on this mid-November day, I was startled to see snow on the top of Sunnahae Mountain. I immediately felt cold! Younger Brother kindly pointed out that the cold sensation might have been augmented by any number of other factors, including the wintery-flavored wind, my lack of a hat, and/or the cup of iced tea that I had thought it wise to purchase when we had stopped at the coffee shop. I was still drinking that iced tea, and I wasn’t going to waste it, imminent-onset-of-hypothermia or no. Perhaps looking at the snow up on that mountain brought all the other factors into focus. Anyway, I felt cold while looking at it. Look:

 Here’s a topographical map:

Younger Brother and I would have been standing somewhere under the words “to Craig” at the time. I find this map giggle-worthy because some dear soul spelled the mountain’s name “Sunny Hay.” Now, I don’t at the time of this writing know the origin of the name “Sunnahae.” My dogged and thorough approach to internet research has thus far not yielded any useful information on the topic.

But I digress.

Anyway, you can see that Craig is at sea level (our house might be 60’ or so), and Sunny Hay is something over 2000’. You will be unsurprised to learn that while that little bit of snow was falling up there, everywhere else in the vicinity was getting rain.

Now do the google-earth-time-and-space thing with me. On or about August 10, 1979, I had been in Anchorage, Alaska for all of two months (I was already on my third waitress job, but that’s another story). What makes that day stand out in my memory is having some rain, and when that rain cleared, I could see a dusting of snow on the Chugach Mountains. Somebody at work, no doubt getting a kick out of my bug-eyed, cheeckako-style wonderment, informed me that the first snow of the year was known as “termination dust,” because it meant that the work season in oil fields, mining, and the like was coming to an end. Snow on the mountains meant get your ducks in a row and batten down the hatches. I was captivated by the notion, and imagined myself living in a trapper’s cabin, dressed in furs, bringing in massive amounts of firewood in anticipation of the seventeen feet of snow that would soon arrive. I snapped out of it only when the cook banged the bell again and shouted, “order up!” just a little bit louder than was strictly necessary.

Of course, you will notice that termination dust comes a bit later in the year down here in the rain forest than it does in Southcentral or other points north. But regardless of when it comes, the sight always makes me shiver.

For your further edification:

Sunnahae Mountain Trail | Discover Prince Of Wales Island (discoverpowisland.com)

cheechako – Bing

Flattop Mountain at Glen Alps | ALASKA.ORG