The Last Frontier

Let go of the ordinary and discover the best kind of unbelievable in Alaska.

 That’s what I did while visiting our 49th state, which left me nothing short of wonderstruck. I found its landscape, climate, and population entrancingly different from Florida. Flat terrain, beaches, and palm trees were replaced by massive mountain ranges sloping down into crystalline blue glacial lakes where moose, caribou, whales and bears roam free. 

From the east coast, a trip to Alaska requires a minimum of two long flights. But, the “Last Frontier” brings many rewards.  

I flew to Fairbanks, Alaska’s second most populated city located at 65 degrees north latitude, in the state’s central region. Fairbanks lies farthest north of any U.S. city, accessible by air, rail, and road. “Many people find that starting their Alaska adventure in Fairbanks makes the most sense. Denali National Park is just two hours away, Anchorage is six, and the Arctic Circle and Yukon River are accessible with a four- to five-hour drive,” explains Explore Fairbanks Public Relations Manager Jerry Evans.

Fairbanks boomed into life more than 100 years ago as a gold rush town. The prospectors may be gone, but today’s main street looks like an old western movie set. Walk around the delightful town and discover lots of murals, an archway constructed from moose antlers, and a fountain honoring the Athabascan people, Alaska’s original inhabitants. The Morris Thompson Cultural and Visitor Center acquaints you with the history and authentic heritage in the land of the midnight sun. 

Fairbanks offers local views of the 800-mile-long Trans-Alaska Pipeline System constructed in the 1970s, opportunities to pan for gold, and soothing soaks in Chena Hot Springs. With the right timing and a clear sky, you can see the awe-inspiring aurora borealis, or northern lights. 

I decided to seek my fortune by going gold panning at Gold Daughters. I began with a bag of pay dirt and a brief lesson in how to search for gold. After learning to swirl debris in a pan with water, I was off. No need to stoop down by a stream; you sit comfortably at a water trough. The experience proved fascinating, and it makes a terrific one for kids. Participants take home everything they find, like fossils, pyrite, quartz, and gold. I uncovered enough gold flakes to fill a little charm.

Chena Hot Springs Resort attracts tourists year round, but, strange as it sounds, I found the natural springs too hot for my late August trip. However, I can imagine soaking in the rock lake in the winter would be fabulous. When the temperatures drop, those bold enough to dip their heads underwater emerge with icy hairdos. 

The resort includes lodging, an ice museum, and an excellent restaurant. A waiter suggested succulent Alaskan scallops – a dish I found to be scrumptious. Additionally, snowcats transport overnight guests to an unobstructed aurora viewing area. Sadly, I was just a bit too early for that breathtaking scene. 

When it was time to leave the city, I traveled by Alaska Railroad to Denali National Park & Preserve in a glass-domed car graced with wrap-around windows. Commentary providing fun facts and general knowledge about the looming wilderness, the dramatic gorges, and tiny towns complemented the views. 

Conveniently, the train station rests within walking distance of the Denali National Park Visitor Center. This national park is not like a typical one where you drive around and stop at various lookouts. The Park Service limits accessibility and runs bus tours along the only road within the 6-million-acre preserve. To embrace this treasured location, you must plan ahead because tours, campsites, and lodging require advance reservations. 

It was no surprise when the rain started. It meant, however, I was unable to see the top of famed Denali, formerly called Mount McKinley, the highest peak in North America. Rangers admit that most visitors don’t get to see the peak, but say getting there is humbling and worthwhile. My peek at nature’s beauty brought one of the most picturesque blends of ochre-, copper-, and green-colored mountains I’d ever seen. 

Afterward, I headed to Anchorage, the state’s biggest and most modern city. The newness can be attributed to a significant earthquake that toppled much of the downtown in 1964. Consider a flightseeing tour from Lake Hood, the busiest seaplane base in the world, located right next to the main airport. Possible destinations include a nearby glacier, a private fly-in fishing spot, or even close-up views of 20,310-foot Denali.

Begin your exploration of Anchorage with a trolley tour, offering a complete scenic and historical introduction in just an hour. The trolley even goes out to Earthquake Park, the epicenter of the devastating quake. While you’re there, don’t skip the impressive Anchorage Museum or the Alaska Native Heritage Center. 

Every March, Anchorage hosts the start of the famed 1,000-mile Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race, a race synonymous with Alaskan community, perseverance, and ingenuity. The competition tests the body, mind, and spirit of the competitors and their dogs. 

South from Anchorage, I explored Turnagain Arm and the Seward Highway that run along the rugged coast, where huge tidal changes reveal mud flats twice a day. You can stop at many outlook sites, like Beluga Point, for stunning water, mountain, and wildlife views. It was here that I first laid eyes on the musk ox, a shaggy-haired, Arctic tundra animal that has never been domesticated. Drive past the ski resort town of Girdwood to the Alaska Wildlife Conservation Center in Portage. It’s a terrific place for up-close observation of notable Alaskan wildlife, even the famed musk ox. 

Another day I visited the deep-water port of Prince William Sound, now recovered from the Exxon Valdez Oil Spill. To get to Whittier, the gateway into the wilderness of the sound, I drove through a dark, 2.5-mile, one-way tunnel. Wisely, staffed toll booths permit one-way movement of cars, or the train, at select times. The quirky town is home to about 200 residents, most of whom live in one large apartment complex. 

Being in Alaska also gave me a chance to explore my fascination with bears. My aim was to visit the island home of the Kodiak bears and photograph the brown coastal bears in Katmai National Park and Preserve.

From Anchorage, I caught a short commercial flight to Kodiak Island. My arrival found the luggage area overwhelmed by coolers packed with fish. Kodiak fishing charters greatly appeal to anglers. Instead of fishing, I joined a small group of photographers, and we drove out to the Buskin River. I’ve never seen a river so alive – it was as if one could drop a net and catch a dozen fish in a single scoop. The salmon were thrashing, flicking their tails, and struggling against the current. This season draws Kodiak bears, the largest brown bear, since they like salmon fishing. Every fall, they must fatten up to survive long months of hibernation. 

The animals remained elusive all morning, but the afternoon produced a remarkable sight of a large male strolling along the banks. As he moved into the water, we followed, from a distance, watching as he stood up and feasted on his catch. I pinched myself with delight. 

Little did I realize the next day would bring total immersion into the world of bears. I awoke early to meet my pilot at Island Air Express. Fitted with thigh-high waders, my group listened as our guide instructed us on bear behavior. We also received orders for our own behavior: stay together, no loud talking, no arm waving, and no running. 

We climbed into a six-seater floatplane for the 45-minute ride to Katmai National Park and Preserve, landing in Geographic Harbor. Flying low over Kodiak, I marveled at how the lush volcanic terrain resembled Hawaii. My pilot agreed, saying, “Kodiak is much like Hawaii except for one thing: Alaska has bears.” 

Excitedly, I peered down and saw them. The basin usually attracts a couple dozen browns. We waded ashore and followed our charismatic guide, Scott Stone. I think he must be “a bear whisperer,” because he knew every bear and their habits, even their hourly schedule. He led us up the tributary to within 10 feet of several bears. Heart racing, I could barely (pun intended) contain my joy at this once-in-a-lifetime close encounter. The experience is only possible during late July to early September, when the giant creatures follow their instincts and the fish run. 

Sure, the brown bears noticed our small group, but they didn’t seem to care. Stone talked calmly to them, and they continued to fish and feast. As he knowledgeably predicted, one sow (female) enjoyed passing by and showing off her cubs.

We sat mesmerized, the only sound the click of shutters, as she and her three cubs slowly paraded down the river and banks. The scene played out like a National Geographic documentary. 

All day, we were led to prime viewing spots and blessed with perfect weather. I managed to capture incredible images of bears forcefully pouncing on fish and tearing them apart. I witnessed tender scenes of motherly care, childlike sibling rivalry, and napping bears while I was lost in the beauty of wildlife living free. 

Stone summed it up, “My connection with bears is soul-deep, and guiding is what I’m meant to do. I want my clients to take away a wealth of bear knowledge by day’s end, but primarily to see how, in the right place, they can be seen as ingenious animals. When viewed properly, they can give you a peace far greater than anything. I also hope participants experience one of the best days of their lives.” Mine certainly was. 

Katmai’s famed Brooks Lodge attracts many bear watchers, but that location is challenging to reach and very expensive.

I highly recommend this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity by flying to Kodiak and making reservations to go to Geographic Harbor.

Heed the call of the wild and head to Alaska.