I sure appreciate the fact that we aren’t snorting forest fire smoke this summer. After breakup, I was the stereotype of your ordinary middle-aged Alaskan guy praying that the fire season wouldn’t limit my recreational options. I was looking forward to lots of camping and fishing and swimming and loafing, so when I saw that we were ramping up for a moderate summer, I was ecstatic.
I should explain that I never have been one to enjoy heat. I guess that’s why I like Alaska so much. When I talk to people who are raving about the vacation they took in some exotic locale with an ambient temperature of a blast furnace, my eyes roll back in my head and I begin to convulse at the mere thought. For the life of me, I cannot fathom the alleged bliss of slowly broiling on a tiny strip of white sand sprinkled between the toes of a looming glass and steel luxury hotel complex.
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