6 August 2018 Permafrost and Infrastructure

I leave tomorrow! Why are trips always so nerve-racking when it comes to it? I had what looked like a small list of things to finish up, and now I’m staring at the clock wondering where the day has gone. It doesn’t help that I’m bringing photo, audio, and video gear. What if I forget that little tripod attachment? What if I forget extra batteries? I’m also packing as if it will be raining, snowing, and blazing sun in the field, so we’ll see if this all fits into my luggage. Do other people manage to pack their bags more than a day in advance? If so, who are you?

Before I head off, I’m posting some brief background on why permafrost matters to Alaskan roads and houses. There are a lot of other reasons why it matters, but these are a good place to begin. (And if you haven’t read my last journal, where I explain what permafrost is, I would suggest catching up with that one first.)

First off, let’s talk about how much permafrost there is in the world. This was one of the most shocking things for me when I started learning about it: there is a lot of permafrost out there. 20% of the Earth’s land surface is underlain by permanently frozen ground! The reality is, though, that even with that reach, permafrost isn’t visible in the way that sea ice is. For those of us who don’t have direct experience with the Arctic, I think it’s much easier to overlook ice that you can’t see with a satellite, which you have to drill into the ground to monitor (which, not coincidentally, is exactly what I’ll be doing when I’m out in the field).

It’s still important, though, for both Alaskan landscapes and our global climate. Permafrost reminds me a bit of an internal organ, like a liver or kidney, in that it can be overlooked when it’s working well, but not when it starts to break down.

Which brings me to this picture:

House slumping due to permafrost thaw.

When you go to Alaska, one of the mystifying things about it is why there aren’t more roads that you can follow into all that gorgeous scenery. For example, there is only one road connecting Fairbanks and the North Slope… why?! Why do I need to take airplanes to the villages I’m visiting? One of the main answers is permafrost.

A couple of years ago I was interviewing road engineers at the Alaska Department of Transportation, and one of them made an offhand comment that’s stuck with me: “the Romans built roads 2,000 years ago that people are still driving on, because you can plan for the life of the pavement. There’s usually not an expectation that the road might be just gone in a few years.”

Those of us from temperate regions are used to investing money in a road and having it stick around a while, but that’s just not how the Arctic works. Most anywhere you want to go, you’re going to run into permafrost. When you do, asphalt is a great way to melt whatever ice is below you. There are some preventative work-arounds, but they involve something like ten feet of insulating rock and gravel, which you have to haul into remote corners of a challenging landscape. It’s just not cost-effective. Instead, Alaskans often build roads with the expectation that they will need to rebuild them soon. That makes you think twice about the whole venture.

Buildings give you better options, mostly because you can choose where to put them. Where permafrost is patchy, it’s advisable to put your house someplace where central heating isn’t going to thaw a sinkhole under your living room. Check into this if you ever move to Fairbanks: evidently there are no rules to stop people from selling cheap, ice-rich land to naïve newcomers looking to build their Alaskan Dream Home.

Houses on thawed permafrost. Oh dear.

Sometimes, though, you choose to build your home on permafrost, either because you like the land or — especially farther north — because it’s the only land available. In this case, people sometimes put their houses on stilts. This lets cold winter air circulate under the house, and with any luck, it keeps the permafrost frozen.

A house on stilts in Fairbanks.

Stilts aren’t foolproof, and they’re getting less and less effective with climate change, so it’s common to hear of folks leveling their house every few years as the permafrost thaws and settles.

A woman named Jean, in front of an old house she abandoned due to permafrost thaw. She knows it's time to level the new house when "all the round objects start rolling to one corner."

As I mentioned above, there are many other reasons why permafrost matters, which I will be learning about in the field, and which I will write all about as I continue my journal. Some relate specifically to Alaska Native communities and cultures; some, no matter where you live or who you are, relate directly to you. Stay tuned! For today, I’m signing off to finish packing and find that tripod attachment.

Cheers, Allyson