Visiting Alaska in the Winter

Looks like non-essential travel is iffy this summer, but maybe the winter will be better. As someone who loves Alaska and has visited it many times in warmer months (see e.g., “A Road Less Traveled”), I always wondered whether it would be just as amazing in the winter. Summers in Alaska are quite comfortable, and there are extra hours of daylight to enjoy. In the winter, it’s more like the frozen north, with long hours of darkness.

However, our Alaska visit near the end of winter in 2017 was far from an endurance test. Instead, the cold was quite bearable, and there were wonderful things to see and do, including searching for the Northern Lights.

Alaska is big, and winter can vary considerably, depending on where you go. For example, Glacier Bay is in a temperate rainforest in the south. The winter temperature there can be in the mid-40s, just as it often is in the summer (see more on kayaking in Alaska). Fairbanks, in the middle of the state, is another story, and that’s where we were headed.

We landed in Fairbanks in the late afternoon, after a long flight from the east. Outside it was grey and cold, with snow flurries. The parking lot with our rental car was a bit icy. The agent told us there would be an electric cable in the trunk so that we could keep the car’s battery charged when we were not driving. We were glad to get in the car and warm up before cautiously heading out to find our B&B.

I was naively surprised to see that the main roads were not cleared to the pavement. I quickly learned to slow down long before any intersection to avoid skidding right through. Our first lodging was a wonderful old house with lots of history and welcoming hosts. I took note of the electrical charging cable near where we had parked and connected it to the line protruding from our car’s hood to sustain the battery.

After a short rest, we walked into town and found a casual restaurant with varieties of fried food and beer. The walk felt no different than a winter stroll in New York. Like many places in Alaska, the atmosphere of the place was funky and welcoming — sit wherever you like.

On our first full day, we plunged into one of Alaska’s most treasured winter traditions—sled dog riding. We had made reservations with a guide based in Neana (Sled Dog Adventures), just west of Fairbanks. The meeting spot for the trip was only a pull-in by the frozen river, so we were unsure if we had found the right spot. Before long, a pickup truck outfitted with a small hotel for barking huskies pulled in. The dogs were very excited to get on the trail, and so were we. Introductions were brief and soon we were donning our snow gear and bundling up for the cold. Maggie would be in one sled and I in the other, each with a musher.

The weather fit the planned activities. Pretty soon we were gliding across the frozen Tanana River at a fast clip, part of the same route that the famous Iditarod race had traversed a few weeks earlier. Despite the wind and layers of clothes, we could hear the mushers as they told us about this sport’s culture, practice, and the devotion it kindled in so many folks.

Now that we were settled in, the guides took us through the woods, with the dogs sensing every turn and branch along the path. After about 45 minutes, we stopped for a break and the dogs got fed. We may have been the paying customers, but the priority of the mushers is understandably their dogs. We were fine with a granola bar and thrilled to be experiencing such an adventure first-hand.

Soon we were on the trail again and heading back to the river. My musher starting giving me the details of her job in guiding the dogs. I tried to pick up every detail, anticipating that I might get a chance to try standing in the back just for show. The next thing I knew, I was holding on with the iron grip of a roller coaster ride with my foot on the wooden brake. The musher was in the seat in front, barking the commands I should pass on to the dogs. They sprung into action and off we went at what seemed a very fast pace. Despite the fact that I had zero prior experience, the musher had no pity on my mistakes and kept telling me I had to protect the dogs, at all costs. It was totally exhilarating and a little frightening at the same time. I think the dogs felt the same.

That afternoon we headed to the town’s modern visitor and cultural center. We gathered information about some of our destinations: the University of Alaska, the ice sculptures park, Northern Lights viewpoints, and our final destination of Chena Hot Springs.

For our second night, we headed to Denali National Park, which is only a couple hours from Fairbanks. Denali is one of the jewels of Alaska, and indeed of the entire United States. We had visited twice before in the summer. It is very different in the winter. There is little lodging in the park, and none during the winter. There is a small village just north of the park that has emerged as the site for restaurants, motels, lodges, and tacky tourist shops. We thought we’d find a place to eat that evening and then head for the park the next morning. However, the village is a ghost town in the winter — nothing was opened. We were fortunate to find a place to eat along the George Parks Highway, near the motel where we were staying.

The next morning was crisp, cold, and beautiful. The road into the park was covered with snow from a recent storm. We were disappointed to learn that, although 15 miles of the Denali Park road is generally open to cars, it was closed that day because of the snow. Denali is full of amazing wildlife and we had hoped to glimpse a few of the creatures that were not in hibernation.

We headed to the Denali Visitor Center and enjoyed talking to the rangers about available activities. We decided on a short hike. The park lent us snap-on snow shoes for traversing the trail. We were dressed warmly and once moving in the bright sun, we were quite comfortable. The mountain views from the trail were spectacular, different from those (also amazing) you see when riding the bus through the park in the summer. As we hiked down to a nearby lake, the snow became deeper, reaching our knees at times. It was slow going, but hiking in the mountains of Denali in the winter was something we hadn’t dreamed of— so it was all good!

From Denali, we headed back to Fairbanks. Now we wanted to focus on seeing the Northern Lights. Viewing these natural wonders takes research, planning, and a whole lot of luck. First of all, the lights depend on the sun’s activity, which varies in multi-year cycles and from day to day. From the scientific charts we found, it seemed like we were in a decent cycle, with a fair chance of solar activity over the next few nights. But a lot can get in the way, like city lights, clouds, and obstructions that limit your view. We chose our second B&B because it was closer to the highway heading out of town that led to a prime viewing spot—Cleary Summit—a rural area with a high elevation.

We left our B&B around 8:30 pm. Just getting to the highway meant navigating snow-covered roads and steep hills. I wished then that I had reserved an all-wheel drive vehicle. I don’t think we even had front-wheel drive, and it was a real challenge on the side roads.

The road to the Summit was only partially cleared and snowy conditions became more pronounced the further we got from town. Fortunately, we didn’t have any trouble, partly because the roads were nearly empty of other cars.

We were the first to arrive at the hilltop viewing area. The skies were cloudy, but it was still early. I set up my camera, and we waited. Before long, a couple other cars arrived, and we soon figured out that waiting in your car beat standing on the cold ground. Nobody was seeing anything interesting, but at least we were in the right place.

Around 10 pm, two big buses pulled up with tourists who were staying at a nearby lodge, where the chance of seeing the Northern Lights was the main attraction. If the tour buses had come out, perhaps our odds were better than it first appeared. Everyone waited patiently, venturing out of their vehicles for short times, but there were no lights to be seen that night. Oh well.

The next day we explored another of Alaska’s wintertime passions: ice sculptures. We first enjoyed a hearty breakfast and took some pictures of a huge moose walking through the backyard (see top). Just outside of town is the Fairbanks Ice Art Park, which is home to a major ice art collection, an ice playground for kids, and a vast outdoor studio for the artists. As we waited on a line to go in, buses of school children were pulling up for their field trip. With giant ice bears, igloos, a huge ice slide and many other creations to explore, the kids were charged up and ready to go.

Touring the sculpture garden has to be experienced. Words cannot adequately describe the intricacies of the huge pieces, the lifelike animals, the whimsical use of frozen water in so many creative ways. Even when you see an artist working, it’s hard to imagine how a huge block of ice gets turned into these exquisite glassy creations. Obviously, it helps that the weather is reliably cold.

We then spent an afternoon at the museum of the University of Alaska at Fairbanks, a college our daughter had seriously considered. The whole institution is first rate. That evening, once it got dark, we found a secluded parking spot on the campus and waited for the Northern Lights. Again, no luck. It could be that the surrounding lights were too bright, or the solar activity too weak.

Our stay in Fairbanks also included a leisurely hike along a trail in Creamer’s Field Waterfoul Refuge where we saw at least three more moose in the snowy woods. Later we took in the local sled dog races (Alaska Dog Mushers Association) at a track near town. This was totally a participatory event, and most of the spectators were mushers themselves. Races went on constantly, with different age groups, length of trail, etc. Families arrived with their dogs in training, their kids learning the ropes, and everyone having a great time.

Chena Hot Springs was our final destination. It’s about a 90-minute drive from Fairbanks through beautiful country. Again, caution was in order because of wintry road conditions. We saw a number of moose along the road. It was a glorious, sunny day when we pulled into the busy parking lot, though it’s colder here with lots of snow. People were coming and going and everyone seemed to be in a good mood, enhanced by the feeling of being in a winter wonderland in the middle of rural Alaska.

As the name proclaims, the hot springs are one of the main attractions, warmed by underground geothermal activity. The other lure is a great chance to see the Northern Lights. We checked in, found our room, and then grabbed our bathing suits. The air is cold, especially when you’re wearing so little, but as soon as you slip into the warm waters, you’re more than fine. The steam from the springs creates snowy sculptures around the pool area. The water is relaxing and the surroundings surreal.

We enjoyed a great supper at the lodge, got some rest, and then headed out to the viewing area, which is also the runway for small planes in the daytime. It’s possible to take a tram ride up to an elevated viewing area, and the guides know exactly when to go. We heard that the view from the runway is still pretty good, and free. Fortunately, there’s a warming room when you get too cold waiting for the lights. It’s still chilly in the room but outside it’s frigid. We waited, talked with strangers, and waited some more. Finally, around midnight, we turned in, thankful for the opportunity to enjoy such a beautiful place, even without the eerie lights.

Our second night was our last. I grabbed my camera and tripod and headed for the runway around 9. There was a buzz that this might be a good night, and some folks reported seeing the lights very late the night before. Sure enough, around 10 a light green dazzle began appearing over the hilltops. I had researched the proper camera settings and set up my tripod quickly, not knowing how long the lights would last. As the night progressed, the aurora got better and better. My pictures were not works of art, but many of the tourists had no idea how to capture the elusive moving colors, even with their expensive cameras. I offered what advice I could, but each camera make is different, and the atmosphere outside was both very cold and very excited.

We stayed as long as we could take it, watching the lights from various points. The illumination lasted for hours, and we were reluctant to leave, but had been graced with more than our share of unforgettable experiences.

The next day, we checked out and headed back to Fairbanks. My advice is visit Alaska whenever you can. Start with late spring and summer (see e.g., Inside Passage) but don’t hesitate to plan a winter trip if the cold doesn’t bother you too much. Alaska is alive as ever in the winter, and the tourists are much fewer. If we can answer any questions, let us know at rdieter004@gmail.com. (All photos copyright, R. Dieter).