I attended CPAC 2024, too, and just before that journey, went into town and got my hair curried and my beard neatened up some. But the wide variety of folks at CPAC 2024 was much in evidence, so this year, at the prompting of a dear friend, I went down to CPAC in "Full Wild Alaska" mode, with my beard au natural and my gray/white hair hanging down, Wild Bill Hickock-fashion, over my collar. In fact, the beard is one of the ways you can spot an Alaskan; while they may not be universal, I'm betting the bearded/non-bearded ratio here is a lot higher than in the lower 48, if for no other reason than that a beard helps keep your face warm in those long, dark winter nights.

Surrounded by the mostly clean-cut Republican and conservative dudes at CPAC, I jokingly commented to my wife, "I should start up a game of 'Spot the Alaskan.'"

So how do you spot an Alaskan? Well, in their natural habitat, it's easy. For one thing, we dress for the weather, not for style. Rain gear down on the panhandle, near Juneau, Sitka, and Ketchikan, caribou fur parkas up north, and lots of Carhartt and Duluth Trading in general. Layers. Lots of layers. Other than that, though, there are some indicators, and I will continue in the fashion of that great American philosopher, Jeff Foxworthy:

In their native habitat:

If you've ever called into work and said "I'm going to be late. There's a moose in the driveway," you might be an Alaskan.

If you've ever had to use a hair dryer to heat up your door latch so you can open the door, you might be an Alaskan.

If you've ever been to the Chicken Saloon or the Salty Dog, you might be an Alaskan.

If you know what "Alaska Time" is - not the time zone, but rather the philosophy - you might be an Alaskan.

If you know what the dipnet fishery is, you might be an Alaskan.

If you've ever had to scrape ice off your eyebrows, you might be an Alaskan.

If you've ever had to chisel a hole in the air to walk outside, you might be an Alaskan.

If you break out the shorts and tank tops when the temperature hits 50, you might be an Alaskan.

If you know someone who is a musher or who works on "the Slope," you might be an Alaskan.

If you know which protuberance of the state is the "Panhandle" and which is the "Peninsula," you might be an Alaskan.

If you've ever had to stop on the highway to let a bush plane taxi across the road or pull out onto the highway to take off, you might be an Alaskan.

See Related: A Latter-Day Travel Odyssey: From Alaska to CPAC

Photographs and Memories: The Marvels of Intercontinental Travel, and How Things Used to Be

Elsewhere in the world:

If you hear someone telling stories about their "cheechako year" they're probably an Alaskan.

If you hear someone singing the praises of reindeer sausage, they're probably an Alaskan.

If you're in a major city and you hear someone complaining "It stinks," they're probably an Alaskan. Well, OK, in this case, it could be anyone from a rural setting.

If you see someone in a t-shirt when it's 40 degrees out and they are complaining about the unseasonably warm weather, they're probably an Alaskan.

Alaska's a different kind of place. The southeast is our seat of government (Juneau) and the winters there are mild, by Alaska standards; it's a wet place, and some describe the climate as being a "cold Seattle" in winter. The southwest is sparsely populated, with a fair amount of fishing out of the towns like Dillingham. Anchorage and the Matanuska-Susitna Borough are the population centers, while much of the rest of the state is sparsely populated, with a few far-flung villages and settlements. The North Slope is home to most of the oil/gas extraction, but it's a vast place that goes much beyond just the oil fields; it's the home of that vast tundra, and the muskeg, frozen hard in winter, swampy and impassible in summer. Fairbanks is the home of the state university's main campus and Fort Wainwright, the country's northernmost Army base. 

I like to describe Alaska with four words: Vast, wild, clean, and free. It's a place like no other, and while I wasn't born and raised here like so many others, a home in Alaska was my wife's and my goal for a couple of decades and now that we're here, we have taken Alaska into our hearts, and Alaska has taken us in as well. A friend of ours, a born-and-raised local dude who lives near here, once slapped my back in the middle of a discussion about guns for caribou hunting and said "You guys have always been Alaskans. You just didn't know it yet."

So, yep. Next year I'll be back at CPAC, and I'll go as I did this year, full wild Alaskan. I'll do it proudly. It is now a big part of who I am, and if the clean-cut young types find me to be a grizzled old specimen that belongs in a museum--well, then they do, that's all.