In Yakutsk, Russia, Winter Is So Cold It Changes Everything

In Yakutsk, the capital of the Sakha Republic in far eastern Russia, winter is not just cold — it shatters ordinary expectations of climate and daily life. Temperatures routinely plunge well below −50°C (−58°F) for weeks on end, conditions that would cripple normal automobiles and infrastructure in most parts of the world. For many residents, surviving this brutal cold means adapting in astonishing ways.

At such extreme temperatures, nearly every part of life is affected. If you turn off a car engine in Yakutsk during the depths of winter, there’s a very good chance it will never start again. Engine oil can thicken into a tar-like sludge, car batteries lose a majority of their power, fuel lines can freeze solid, and metal components contract so much they simply stop functioning. Under these conditions, a stopped engine is often as good as a paperweight — immobile until spring thaws begin. 

Because of this, many residents do something that sounds almost unbelievable elsewhere: they leave their cars running continuously for days, weeks, or even months. It isn’t laziness or indulgence — it’s a necessity for survival. In a climate where being stranded without heat and transportation can become life-threatening within minutes, a running engine is often the only reliable way to stay safe and reach home. 

This phenomenon is so widespread that parking lots in Yakutsk during winter often resemble an engine graveyard of idling vehicles. The exhaust clouds from these constantly running engines hang low in the frigid air, creating a kind of perpetual smog around parked cars. Locals sometimes leave a key in the ignition and lock the vehicle, knowing that theft is unlikely in the harsh cold when few people are willing to be outdoors at all. 

Yet the unusual car culture in Yakutsk is only one part of how life adjusts to the cold. The city itself is built on permafrost, ground that stays frozen year-round. Because heat escaping from buildings can melt this permafrost and destabilize foundations, many structures are built on stilts to allow cold air to circulate underneath. 

Outside activities are tightly controlled. Fresh groceries can freeze within minutes of leaving a heated store, and people plan errands meticulously to avoid extended exposure. Even wearing metal-framed glasses outdoors can be dangerous, as the metal can freeze to the skin. 

For those who do drive, a range of adaptations help cars endure the cold. Some owners install parking heaters or use thick engine “blankets” to retain heat. Others remove batteries and essentially mothball vehicles that they won’t use until spring. But for many, the simplest — though fuel-intensive — choice remains: keep the engine running.

Even beyond transportation, winter in Yakutsk tests residents in ways most people will never experience. Schools may close only when temperatures fall below −55°C, and locals often say that surviving the cold is more about preparation than resistance — there is “no bad weather, only bad clothing.” With heavy insulated layers, fur coats, and strategic planning of daily tasks, life goes on despite conditions that would halt normal activity almost anywhere else. 

In this remote Siberian city, winter doesn’t check whether you’re ready. Instead, it reshapes routines, recomposes priorities, and challenges what most people think is even possible in a modern urban environment. In Yakutsk, extreme cold isn’t an alarm to pause life — it’s a condition to adapt to, with resilience and sometimes remarkable ingenuity at every turn.