This year, we wanted to vacation someplace different.  We’ve gone southward many times to places with lots of sunshine, warm weather, and beaches.  So, how about … Alaska?  What the heck is in Alaska?!?  Well, it turns out:  a lot!  No one in our family has ever been there, so - let’s go check it out.

 As to the “when” question, we decided to time our vacation around at least two events:  One was the start of the Iditarod, the big dogsled race (more on that later).  The other was to be there around the spring equinox, because that’s the best time so see the Aurora Borealis - definitely something on our bucket list.  Note that, because the sun was currently near the peak of its eleven-year sunspot cycle, our odds of seeing the aurora was good.

We put together an itinerary with something just about every day.  We’d start in Fairbanks, and end it in Anchorage.  We spent months accumulating plenty of winter clothing (something that isn’t needed much down here in south Texas).  Yeah, we would definitely be out of our comfort zone!

 My impression of the man on the Alaska Airlines tail. 

And so, on February 24, we flew into Fairbanks aboard Alaska Airlines, where the man with the enigmatic smile graces each airplane’s tail.  Soon we’d find out what he was smiling about.

 

In the hot springs

Our first excursion was out to the Cheena Hot Springs.  When we stepped out of the changing rooms in our swimsuits and that sub-zero air hit us, we wondered what the heck we’d gotten ourselves into.  We quickly rushed down the walkway, into the steaming water.  Nice!  

The builders had made a decent-size swimming pool, bounded with huge boulders, and filled entirely with water heated from deep in the earth below.  But you had to be careful, for in some spots, it could be scalding hot.  After a while, I noticed that my hair and whiskers would freeze into icy strands.

belly up to the bar!

Nearby was the Ice Museum.  It was filled with whimsical things including furniture, housewares, walls, stairs, rooms, igloos, animals, decorations, a wedding alter, and other stuff all made entirely from ice.  We sat at an ice bar and drank from ice martini glasses.  In the background, music played such as “You’re Cold As Ice” and “Baby It’s Cold Outside”.  The inside temperature was a balmy 25 degrees ABOVE zero.  Oh and they also do weddings there.

the Dalton Highway

Next day was our guided tour up to the Arctic Circle.  This circle is at latitude 66 ½ (90 minus 23 ½, which is the tilt of the earth’s axis in relation to the sun).  Above the circle, on the summer solstice, the sun never sets, and on the winter solstice, it never rises.  Our route there was an 8-hour each way drive mostly on the infamous Dalton Highway (thanks to the TV show Ice Road Truckers).  But it wasn’t that bad, other than being rather bumpy and steep in spots.  It was mostly rather scenic.  The famous Alaska Pipeline ran alongside the road.  We shared the road with lots of trucks.

frozen trees along the road

Our guide was Avery, who was cheerful, informative, interesting, and kinda cute.  Using a microphone and the bus’s PA system, she covered these topics and more:

• all points of interest
• history of Fairbanks.  (It was named after a politician from down in the lower 48 who never so much as stepped foot anywhere in Alaska.)
• gold mining (which originally brought all the settlers here)
• the Alaska Pipeline
• flora & fauna
• geography, geology, and climate
• travel and tourism in Alaska
• fun stories

"dog sun"

On the way, we saw a “dog sun”, a curious weather phenomena where a halo-like ring appears to surround the sun.

bridge over the Yukon

We stopped at a remote settlement where the Yukon River crosses the road.  The Yukon is the 3^rd longest river in North America, and was a half-mile wide there.  Like every other body of water up here, it was frozen solid.  We all got out and walked on the river.  Also at the settlement was a friendly little restaurant with great food, patronized by all the tourists and truckers.

We arrived at the Arctic Circle park right at sunset.  Yeah, it was just a sign - but everybody must take photos!  There were other tour groups there also, so it was actually a rather busy spot.  Avery rolled out a red carpet with a dotted line printed thereupon, and handed out certificates as we each stepped over the line.  In the park, there were also other placards around, with informative explanations of what all goes on here.  But man-oh-man was it cold!

Aurora Borealis

On the way back, someone saw a glow in the sky.  Auroras!  Avery pulled over and everyone got out. Amazing!  The glow spread nearly 180° across the sky, like a huge rainbow, although to the naked eye, it looked whitish.  Only a camera could catch the greenish color.  It was mostly still, but in one corner, you could detect some flickering and wavering.

General Store

The tour included a stop at a little homestead & general store called Carlson’s, where we switched guides.  Jack, our new guide, was an aurora expert with some good photography knowledge.  He explained that the trick is to use a really slow shutter speed, with your camera mounted on a tripod stand.  There was a stack of tripods available for all. 

The place was far away from any city lights, and thus an excellent spot for viewing the auroras.  Jack explained that they were sporadic and unpredictable.  To accommodate visitors waiting for auroras, there was a nice warm wood-burning stove, plenty of snacks, hot drinks, comfortable couches to rest upon, and even games and books.  And the sky that night was crystal clear!  

here is the Alaska Pipeline

And so we waited.  And waited.  After a couple of hours, we had to declare the auroras a no-show, and get on back to Fairbanks.  Well, at least we had our excellent sighting out on the road earlier.

 

Things are different way up here at this northern latitude.  The sun never gets very high above the horizon.  After sunset and before sunrise, twilight lasts a good two hours.  At night, the Big Dipper is visible year-round (hence the Alaska flag).  The star Capella, seen in the northern sky from Texas, here is straight-up overhead.  Orion barely clears the horizon, and to see Sirius, you need an unobstructed view of the horizon.  We’re told that, at summer solstice, with the long twilight, there is 24 hours of daylight.  If you want to get any sleep, you’ll need thick curtains.

The cold bites.  In Fairbanks, every day the temps were double-digit negative numbers.  Yes, I’m talking Fahrenheit.  Any exposed skin, like your face, stings.  (And we’re told that it got REALLY cold last month!)  My mustache is perpetually full of ice. 

clothes for the day

Getting dressed to go outside is a major pain - layers upon layers of clothing is absolutely required.  We are clearly out of our comfort zone.  I find myself nostalgic for Texas where just a T-shirt and shorts will do just fine, even in February.

At one point on our long Arctic Circle tour day, I had to use the toilet.  And all they had were outdoor latrines.  Words cannot describe the discomfort of that frozen seat.  It must be especially tough on the girls, even for just a little tinkle.

Walking takes on a whole new dimension.  Snow plows clear the bulk of snow from roads and sidewalks, but the process leaves behind a thin film of ice that gets packed down hard - and gosh darn it, it’s slippery!  Interestingly, road vehicles handle it with few problems - credit the studded snow tires.  But regular footwear just won’t grip.  And so, Joan & I have learned to use, what we call, the Alaska Shuffle.  The technique is to NOT pick your feet up, but instead, slide across the ice, always maintaining contact with the ground.

The locals take it all in stride.  Jack, our aurora guide, told us about a crazy local tradition:  when the digital thermometer on one of the buildings at the university goes down to minus 40, the students all strip down to their swimsuits and pose for a photo, with the temp display in the background. 

meet the dogs

Next up was dog sledding - our introduction to this age-old sport that was originally a major mode of transportation in these parts.  After bundling up with every piece of clothing we own, we went out to meet and greet the dogs.  They were as friendly and lovable as can be!   

in the sled

Our musher, Matthew, undid the dogs’ tethers and attached them to the sled harness, one at a time.  The last dogs to get hooked up were clearly very impatient, barking their heads off as if to say: “Don’t forget me!!!”  Once all the dogs are harnessed, they impatiently bark and pull at their reins, as if to say:  “LET’S GO!  LET’S GO!  LET’S GO!!!” 

The sled team consisted of four guests, the musher, and 12 dogs.  As we guests are seated, the dogs get even more eager and impatient, now looking back at us, barking like crazy, just raring to go.

Finally, the musher releases the brake and yells “Hike!” and WE ARE OFF!!  What a thrill!  We are absolutely flying down the trail.  Clearly, running like this is what these dogs live for.  And once on the run, they stop barking.

We are atop a hill, and the view is spectacular!  There were two sled teams, running mostly neck-and-neck.  We wind and turn through the forest, making big loops, over small hills and down ravines.  We stop a couple of times for a break, where the musher tells more about the sport and answers questions.  The ride lasted about an hour; in this brutal cold, that was about all we guests could handle.  We unload at the heated yurt (a round building somewhat like a tent), where there is a warm stove and drinks.

 

Later that day we visited the World Ice Sculpture competition, held at the county fairgrounds.  You’d think by now that Joan & I had had enough of ice and frozen stuff.  Well, we needed more. 

Tyrannosaurus Rex

The Ice Museum back at the hot springs had lots of interesting things made from ice, but it was all indoors.  This festival was outdoors, and consumed many acres.  Hundreds of amazing, intricate monuments, giant letters, and sculptures of everything imaginable, and then some.  There was also a “playground” of things for families & kids, including slides, a ping-pong table, thrones, a play house, and oh-so-much more.

 

on the train

It was now time to take our long-anticipated train ride from Fairbanks to Anchorage, a 300-mile journey that would consume a good 12 hours.  Very nice!  Roomy, comfortable, smooth, quiet, with huge windows to view the magnificent scenery.  It makes you wonder why anyone would want to travel anywhere by airplane!  Well, there is the speed thing;  planes go 600 mph, while the train’s top speed, I estimated, was between 50 and 60, with an average speed of about 25.

river gorge

The track mostly followed along the Talkeetna River.  The weather was clear and blue the whole way.  We saw mountains, meadows, forests, lakes, rivers & streams, and canyons.  Most of the water was frozen solid, but occasionally there were visible patches of fast-flowing liquid water.  There was even an occasional moose.  But not a lot of human development, other than an occasional cabin or small settlement.  And some bridges.

Denali, poking above

The peak of Denali came into view, its summit poking above the other mountains.  At over 20 thousand feet, it is the highest peak in North America.  It has some naming controversy in its history. “Denali” was the name given by the indigenous people, but a century ago some politicians renamed it to Mt. McKinley, after a U.S. president who also never visited the state.  A populist local movement changed the name back.

 

Chugach Mountains

Anchorage, Alaska’s largest city, was actually much more picturesque than Fairbanks, which was really just a dull industrial town with not that much around it.  In Anchorage, however, the majestic Chugach Mountains were always visible just to the east.  As one of our guides pointed out, mountains in southern Alaska, although topping at a mere 3,000 feet, are much more breathtaking because their base is nearly at sea level.  And of course they are snow-covered year round. 

 

ski attempt

Time to do some skiing.  We rented a car with all-wheel drive and made the 15-mile uphill trek to Arctic Valley ski area.  There were other places to ski in the Anchorage area, each with their pros and cons, but this one seemed a good compromise.

Well, the skiing did not turn out too well.  Problem #1 was that the lifts weren’t working when we arrived; a wind storm the previous day evidently did some damage.  I had to wait around for hours while the tech crews worked on it. 

Problem #2 was that the only working lift was a between-the-legs tow.  It requires much balance and coordination, as the lift pulls you uphill on your skis.  Not easy if you’ve never used one.  I failed several times.  Finally, with lots of help from the friendly staff, I managed to engage the tow and get up the hill.  But by then I was quite exhausted.

Problem #3 was that the ski area really had no “green” beginners’ runs, and I was not exactly in top physical shape like I was 20 years ago.  This “blue” run was terribly steep!  And then Problem #4: the snow was packed down hard as concrete.  No powdery fluff anywhere.

So anyway, the ski attempt was a bust.  But, the bar upstairs in the lodge was neat and inviting, and the scenery was gorgeous!

 

Can I bring it home?

Downtown Anchorage was holding a week-long festival called Fur Rondy, billed as “the nation’s premier winter festival” and “offering wild and wacky fun for all ages.”  Crowds were everywhere.  The events included a big fur auction.  There was a carnival with rides and games and such.  And another ice carving exhibition - but we’d already seen enough ice sculptures for one vacation.  The entire area was definitely made for tourists.  Novelties, souvenirs, curios, restaurants, outfitters, and furriers everywhere.  And our hotel was just a short walk away.

here comes a musher

One of the biggest events was the ceremonial start to the Iditarod, the big dogsled race.  It used to start here in Anchorage, but now officially starts in the town of Willow the next day (Sunday).  One street was blocked off and “paved” with snow.  Each dogsled team was introduced over the PA system, and then they ran down the street to the roaring cheers of spectators. 

the Reindeer Run

That afternoon was the Reindeer Run.  In the same “snow paved” stretch of street, participants ran down the street, “chased” by live reindeer.  It was Anchorage’s answer to Spain’s Running of the Bulls.  Actually the reindeer did not exactly “chase” anyone; they just ran, or some just ambled, to the finish line, where the “reindeer wranglers” corralled them.  Many of the participants wore outrageous costumes.  Some of the guys ran in just boxer shorts (note: it was like 5° F out there).  It was all one big crazy hoot.

the Knik River

Later we gave ourselves a driving tour of Anchorage in our rental car.  We found a lovely city park along the frozen Ship Creek.  

We drove out to Earthquake Park, which was right on the shore of the Cook Inlet.  The park commemorated the 1964 magnitude 9.2 earthquake, the strongest ever recorded in North America, which did serious damage to the area.

 

here comes a team

Our last Alaskan event was a guided tour out to the town of Willow for the official start of the Iditarod.  On the way, our guide, named Joan (!), gave us the whole rundown.  It started in 1973, and is a 1000 mile (correction:  1049 miles, since Alaska is the 49^th state) race to Nome, on the shore of the Bering Sea.  It’s a contest of guts, endurance, and survival out in the winter wilderness.  Mushers and dogs sleep together (infrequently as it is).  This year, 38 teams would compete, each consisting of a single musher and 16 dogs.  About a quarter of the mushers were women!  Originally, the race started in Anchorage, but was later moved here to Willow.  Some of the mushers had done the race many times before.  It’s actually one of many dogsledding events throughout the state, although this is the biggest.

The race has several checkpoints along the way, including some mandatory rest breaks.  The musher can have supplies or equipment brought to the checkpoints, but they may not substitute a dog.  If a dog is injured, they press on without it.  They carry a GPS tracker, but any other communication or navigation assistance is prohibited.  (In many ways, it reminds me of single-handed offshore sailboat racing.  With dogs.)

chili cheese dog

Thousands of spectators come to Willow each March to watch the race start.  It happens right on top of frozen Willow Lake.  It’s an incredibly festive atmosphere that includes the whole family.  Our tour package included entry into our tent, stocked with hot chili dogs, hot soup, hot chocolate, hot coffee, and snacks.

starting line

The starting line is atop a small hill.  The teams start at 2-minute intervals. The announcer gives a full bio of the musher over the PA system.  Then comes a 10-second countdown, as the dogs bark and pull impatiently.  And then they’re off - down the hill and over the frozen lake.  The crowd cheers wildly!

Among the “spectators” was a group of animal rights protesters, bearing signs claiming that the dogs are mistreated.  From what Joan and I have learned about dogsledding, we know this it total bull crap.  The truth is: these dogs live for this, and the close, loyal bond between musher and dogs is beyond words.

 

Alaska’s most famous animal is the moose.  They are numerous and everywhere!  On all our tours and excursions, our guides told us to always be on the lookout for them.  We had seen a few, but always in the distance.

moose in the yard

But when we rolled into Anchorage after the Iditarod, there, right in somebody’s front yard, were, not one, but two full-sized adult moose, chomping on a tree.  The driver stopped and we all hopped out for photos - after a stern warning not to get too close because moose can be very aggressive!

passing Mt. Rainier

And then it was off to the airport for a 1:30 am flight home.  We may return to Alaska some day - but if that happens, it will be in the summertime!  Stay tuned.