One August in the early 70s, I came from Adak where the temperatures had been no higher than 55-60 and I had been running seven miles a day from the base to the FAC and back via the road that skirted Mt Moffet to COSP where I nearly died trying to run three miles on a golf course with temps close to 90, and then to San Francisco where it was 54 when I arrived.
Given a choice of Oahu or Andpya year round, I think I'd take Andoya. The older I get, the more I like winter and the less I like summer. My perspective from living most of my life in Virginia and Kentucky: go north in the winter; go further north in the summer.
Bruce,
I lived in Norway from 1990 to 1994. I remember getting up one morning in December just before Christmas and looking outside to see the air sparkling with ice crystals and all the trees frosted over. It seems we had a inversion overnight and the temperature had dropped some 20 degrees in the night hours from just above freezing to well below. Any moisture in the air became frost and stuck to any surface it could find. It was on that morning that I truly came to understand what the expression 'it's a dry cold' really meant. It also brought a whole new meaning to a white Christmas.
Regards from the desert of Nevada,
Bob Ainsworth OTMCS (Ret.)