I stepped outside en route to the Hertz parking lot. I breathed in my first bit of fresh air in the past few hours. To me, the air inside an airport and plane always seems so stale.
And then it hit me: I could feel every single one of my nose hairs. Each one. Crystalizing by the second, I walk-- briskly-- to the poor attendant who has already started my car. My team member and I load our luggage, and unplug it from the post. He throws our cable into the backseat, and we practically jump into our seats.
The temperature: -31 degrees F.
Tomorrow's high: -21 degrees F.
It's gonna be a cold week here at Eielson AFB.