So many interesting ways to die in the Last Frontier!
Today my cozy complacent Pacific Northwest world was turned upside down. The temperatures dropped INTO THE TWENTIES. And SNOW fell on the ground! I was scrambling to keep my chickens warm, dressing up to go outside, hanging up damp clothes to dry, and cursing the entire time.
Of course, that's life in Alaska the entire winter. Heck, you're lucky if the temperatures get up into the 20s, that's a balmy day! And what do you do? Acclimate, mostly. I know people who have chickens in Alaska, and who don't really do too much extra for them. They might lay down some straw to keep their feet out of the snow, or turn on a heat lamp when the temperatures get below zero. Horses in Alaska don't wear jackets, they just grow extra-thick winter coats. And people don layers and layers of clothing.
And if you don't? You die. I remember walking my dog in the woods when I was a kid, long before the advent of cell phones or GPS. I suddenly realized that if I slipped and broke my leg out here, I would literally die before anyone could find me. The weather was in the teens, several feet of snow on the ground, we had hiked about three miles from the trailhead, and the sun was going to set in about an hour. In that scenario you get maybe an hour or two tops if you're lying on the ground, and that's only if you really keep your wits about you. The likelihood that anyone would realize I was gone before I had died of hypothermia was almost nil.
There are plenty of other ways to die, of course. It's not just the weather, it's the terrain (steep and remote), the water (death within five minutes, year round), and of course the animals. Bears, wolverines, moose (both trampling and lumbering out in front of your speeding car). I know a man who nearly died when he was gored by an angry caribou. The antlers just barely missed his important bits, and he survived with permanent liver and spleen damage.
On a more prosaic note, drugs and alcohol kill a shocking number of Alaskans. Both directly, through the consequences of long-term addiction, and indirectly, through fatal DUI and other accidents.
Oh, and all the other people, of course. Alaska has one of the highest rates of interpersonal violence. There are virtually no "stranger crimes." Unless you count the serial killer who worked at the doughnut shop where my friends and I used to buy our breakfast before school, that is.