INUVIK, Northwest Territories — Alison Lennie steps out of her house into 29 degrees below zero.
It’s twilight, and the cold stings instantly. Eyelashes crystallize. In five minutes, exposed skin goes numb. Car engines strain against the cold, which thickens motor oil and slows the chemical reactions inside the batteries.
Ms. Lennie grew up here, 120 miles north of the Arctic Circle, so she knows all of this. She turns the key in her ignition 25 minutes before she has to leave.
To drive through Inuvik at night is to navigate whiteness, guessing where the edge of the road drops off under layers of ice and snow.