Rousseau is a dead ringer for Colin Farrell, if Farrell had moved to Alaska and lived in a coal mine instead of pursuing an acting career. (In fact, when Rousseau inevitably becomes famous for something or other, we're convinced Farrell will get the part in the Hollywood movie of his life.) Rousseau is the kind of guy one can only encounter in Alaska: a gangly, unclean, bearded wild man who looks as if he walked into the woods somewhat normal and emerged significantly less so. He's a land surveyor of Sioux Indian descent and quite possibly the most quotable person I've met in my 10 years of journalism. When Chad asks to take his picture, he tells us that his convertible pickup truck, a custom Rousseau invention, is even more photogenic than he is.

"I was doing the Dukes of Hazzard thing for a while," he reports, referring to jumping in and out of the truck via the ­window because the doors would no longer open. "[But] that pretty much sucks in a truck, so I just cut the top off. It's real cool. Really cool in winter."

We eye the truck and are indeed impressed. It looks like Rousseau literally took a chain saw to it, cutting away the entire bed and cab, right up to the steering wheel. Around here, nobody bats an eyelid.

"The Lower 48 is kind of compressed," continues Rousseau. "You have to mind your p's and q's more. Here, you can do your own thing and drive a beat-up old pickup truck with the top cut off, and nobody seems to notice." Yeah, they definitely do things differently around here.

The two biggest attractions in Fairbanks during the summer are the riverboat Discovery, a supertouristy ride down the Chena and Tanana rivers in an authentic stern-wheeler riverboat (the highlight of which is the tasty smoked salmon treats they pass out to the 900 or so tourists on board), and panning for gold at the El Dorado Gold Mine, a surprisingly fun way to pretend to strike it rich.