With below-minus-twenty temperatures fairly common by now in the early winter, it seems an appropriate time to initiate a solemn discussion about something heretofore unfairly neglected. You may have heard occasional references to it, but it has not received nearly the attention it deserves. It is the backbone, the foundation, the quintessential thing about which all our Baker Lake adventures spin.
It is my parka. I heart my parka.
What’s this, you say? A mere coat is worthy of such adoration?
Well, let me tell you.
I don’t know about you, but I hate spending money. Hate. Going forward I won’t use that letter in the middle of a sentence involving money because it always deserves to be capitilized. Hate spending money.
HOWEVER...we spent a small fortune on these parkas and let it be known: worth every penny. Underline that. Twice.
My parka saved my sanity on the snowstorm day (which some locals may agree was a blizzard, but most will say was just a half-assed storm, I’m reserving my judgement.) but to be honest, that’s not the really cool thing about it.
Its got this fun wire running through the hood that allows you to shape it into a tunnel to peek out of during a windy day…but, no, that’s not the really awesome thing.
Its apparently filled with goose down, and I praise the birds that presumably sacrificed themselves to make my life more comfortable every day. But that’s not the best part either.
The coolest part?
I don’t know about your parka, but mine has these amazing pockets in front that can hold books. Books! And not just softcovers, either. I can comfortably pack two new, large hardcover novels into my coat pockets in the supreme confidence that they shall arrive at my destination safe and sound, ready for me to delve into and forget the mundane universe around me. Suck on that, old coat.
So there you have it. By now, everyone reading this must be realizing they should move to Baker Lake so they can have an excuse to own a parka just like mine. I fully endorse this plan. Because I heart my parka.