Rick Thoman noted in a recent report that the paucity of 2024-2025 snowfall in Anchorage and other Southcentral Alaska locations may be unprecedented in the era of modern records.

“For the three locations with 50-plus years of snowfall data, both Anchorage airport and Alyeska had the lowest mid-winter totals, while the Matanuska Experiment Farm was third lowest, with 1981-1982 and 2015-2016 having lower reported totals,” wrote the climatologist for the Alaska Center for Climate Assessment and Policy at the University of Alaska Fairbanks.

A strong weather pattern is partly to blame for the so-far historic lack of snow in Alaska’s largest city, which forced the Iditarod sled dog race to start in Fairbanks.

“(A) low pressure was anchored just east of Kamchatka and south to southwest winds prevailed across all of Alaska,” Thoman wrote in his newsletter. “This is a classic ‘warm winter’ pattern for Alaska and similar to the mid-atmosphere patterns during mid-winters in 1985-1986, 2002-2003 and 2015-2016.”

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UAF Geophysical Institute space physicist Peter Delamere recently rode his fat-tire bike over frozen vegetation south of the Alaska Range until his tires finally bit snow a bit farther north. He did not stop riding until he reached Nome, about 1,000 miles away.

On March 12, 2025, Delamere rolled under the burled sprucewood arch in Nome tied with six other fatbikers. They all finished the Iditarod Trail Invitational 1,000-miler after starting from near Anchorage a little more than 17 days earlier.

Before and after his ride, Delamere, 55, was helping his colleagues launch sounding rockets from Poker Flat Research Range to learn more about the aurora. Reflecting on weeks in the saddle of a loaded bicycle rolling on tires as thick as a loaf of bread, he remembered the strange sensation of riding through Southcentral’s snowless terrain.

“Bikes roll over dirt and ice just fine,” he said. “Tussocks (knee-high towers of vegetation that stand apart like chess pieces) are another issue. Between Rohn and Nikolai, the trail varied between ice highways and unrideable tussock nightmares. Overall, the bikers made very good time on the snowless portions.”

Those snowless portions totaled about 60 miles. When Delamere and others finally reached snow between Nikolai and Ophir, it was more than 3 feet deep. Because snow is softer than ice, it takes more energy to move over snow, even when it is packed. Delamere found he missed the rock-hard surface.

“Ice is really fast,” he said. “In fact, I was always actively seeking ice all the way to Nome. With really good studded tires and a bit of practice, ice isn’t bad at all.”

This was Delamere’s first trip all the way to Nome by fat bike, but he had so much fun amid the suffering that it may not be his last.

“There’s a chance I will do it again,” he said.

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John Lyle, formerly of Fairbanks and now living in Hawaii, sent photos from the 1990s of snow oozing off his late friend Bill Fuller’s shed. The formation reminded Lyle of a breaking wave, so he posed inside the curl as if surfing.

He also sent this recollection of the snow formation’s demise:

“I asked Bill when he thought it would fall,” Lyle remembered.

‘Soon,’ he said.

“How soon?

‘Very soon. Do you have pressing plans for the next hour?

“So, we stood, watching and having a nice talk about life and such. At about 15 minutes the sculpture crashed to the ground. I looked at Bill, who smiled and said, ‘Sometimes you see amazing things when you are patient.’”

• Since the late 1970s, the University of Alaska Fairbanks’ Geophysical Institute has provided this column free in cooperation with the UAF research community. Ned Rozell ned.rozell@alaska.edu is a science writer for the Geophysical Institute.