Chasing Northern Lights and Nostalgia in Fairbanks, Alaska

As I’ve mentioned many times, I’m a huge fan of visiting Alaska. I’ve been there five times, and I guarantee I’ll go back. My very first trip to Alaska was to visit Fairbanks.

My First Winter Adventure in Fairbanks

I’ll never forget that trip because I arrived on a day when the high temperature was minus twenty-five degrees. My friend Ralph was attending the university up there, and this was a short visit. I had always been curious about Alaska, thanks to growing up reading The National Geographic in the school library. I knew it was cold, but I had never experienced cold at that level. It’s shocking.

Facing My First Taste of Real Alaska Cold

Ralph showed up at the airport with an extra parka, scarf, waterproof winter boots, and lined mittens. I changed into the boots, and then he quickly got to work. He layered the gear on me, pulled the scarf over most of my face, and cinched the fuzzy-lined hood down tight. The last piece was a pair of sunglasses to shield my eyes. We walked toward the door, both of us giggling.

It was gray outside, and I felt a jolt of excitement at finally experiencing Alaska. As we approached the door, I caught my reflection in the glass. I looked like the kid from A Christmas Story, stiff and awkward under all the winter gear. Right before the door opened, Ralph told me to blink often to protect my eyeballs.

How I felt

Blinking keeps a fresh layer of warm tears moving across your eyes. That moisture protects the surface and stops the tear film from freezing into tiny, uncomfortable ice crystals. It also keeps your vision clear, so you’re not squinting through frosty eyeballs like a half-frozen raccoon.

The doors opened, and the blast of freezing air hit me. It took my breath away.

Ralph hurried me to the car, repeating “be careful” and “blink” over and over. It was sleeting just enough to make things slippery, and it was not the time to be falling. With all that winter gear on, I doubt I would have gotten hurt, but I’m not sure I could have stood up again since I could barely bend my arms. Once we were safely in the car, I finally had a moment to look around the parking lot.

Learning How Fairbanks Survives the Deep Freeze

Every car was hooked up to something. This was long before electric vehicles, so a parking lot full of cars that looked like they were on life support was baffling. As I slowly unwrapped my face enough to ask, Ralph casually explained that these were power poles. This was where people plugged in their block heater to keep the engine from turning into a very expensive ice sculpture.

I soon learned that the power poles were everywhere. I saw them at grocery stores, the university, and apartment complexes. Not so much at small restaurants or pubs, but they were definitely part of the landscape.

I really enjoyed that short little trip to Fairbanks in the dead of winter. I felt like I had been on the biggest adventure of my life, and, at the time, it was. I knew I’d be back. Even though I returned to Alaska several times, it wasn’t until more than thirty years later that I returned to Fairbanks.

Returning to Fairbanks After Three Decades

During our last trip to Alaska, my husband and I flew up to Fairbanks to spend one night at Pike’s Waterfront Lodge before taking the Aurora Winter Alaska train back to Anchorage. The train offers a beautiful way to see Alaska’s interior, stopping in Denali and Talkeetna and passing through vast wilderness along the way. The trip takes longer than flying, but it’s far more fun. Even with just one day and night, we still had plenty of time to enjoy Fairbanks.

Finding Things to Do with One Day in Fairbanks

We considered visiting Husky sled dogs and their puppies or going on a middle-of-the-night aurora tour. After calling numerous places, we realized we had missed the best aurora window by one week. Chena Hot Springs was an option, but we had just soaked our way through Costa Rica, so we passed. We also skipped ice fishing since we had planned to fish later in the trip, and I couldn’t muster much enthusiasm for a snowmobile adventure. With more time, we might have taken the full-day Arctic Circle tour. But not this trip.

Ultimately, we decided to relax at the lodge and enjoy its amenities. This turned out to be the best decision.

Relaxing at Pike’s Waterfront Lodge

When we walked into the lobby, a woman had brought her sled-dog Husky pups for a visit. That alone made my day. I got on the floor and let the pups climb all over me while we chatted about their training and the history of mushing. It felt like stumbling into a tiny museum of Alaskan culture, complete with a tail-wagging welcome committee.

Pike’s Waterfront Lodge

We ate at Pike’s Landing, right across the parking lot. It was fun talking with the locals and other guests who were also taking the train the next morning. Even though it wasn’t negative twenty-five degrees, it was still cold enough that we didn’t hang around outside.

Instead, we settled into the bar at Pike’s Landing and spent the evening chatting with the two bartenders. It was nice hearing about everyday life in Fairbanks. As locals streamed in, everyone greeted each other by name. There was easy laughter, easy conversation, and even though we were visitors, we felt like part of the mix.

What Has Changed in Fairbanks and What Still Feels the Same

Fairbanks had changed quite a bit since my first visit. The population seemed smaller, but the military presence was larger. Thirty years earlier, the conversations were all about the university or the Trans-Alaska Pipeline. On this trip, most people we met worked in tourism, at the big-box store in town, or in local government.

Another shift was me. I was now a seasoned traveler. Talking with strangers feels easier these days, and it makes every trip richer. Instead of catching up with a friend, we were making new ones.

One thing that hadn’t changed was the friendliness. People were just as curious about us living down in the “lower 49” as we were about them. There were questions about weather patterns, conversations about warming cycles, and even dreams about moving away. But somehow, every one of those conversations circled back to how much they loved Alaska.

Someone told us about a website where we could check the odds of seeing the aurora. I looked it up and learned we actually had a chance that night. Everyone at the bar encouraged us to try, so we promised we would.

Trying to See the Aurora with Limited Time

One of the features at the lodge was a heated dome where guests could go at all hours to hopefully catch the aurora. At three in the morning, we bundled up and headed out, only to find the dome completely fogged over and humid enough to pass as a makeshift sauna. After about three minutes of sweating in our winter gear, we gave up and stepped back into the cold night.

Since we couldn’t see anything from the dome, we stood outside for a while and managed to catch a small display of the aurora. We didn’t get all the colors, but the soft green haze drifting across the sky felt like a win.

Fairbanks had grown and changed since my first visit. One thing that hadn’t changed was my lack of proper winter gear. I was grateful to crawl into the warmth of our hotel bed. Once thawed, I fell asleep easily.

Catching the Alaska Railroad Back to Anchorage

The next morning, we boarded the Alaska Railroad for the ride back to Anchorage. Even from a train window, Alaska knows how to show off. We passed snowy forests, watched a stubborn moose blocking the tracks like he owned them, saw a mother black bear call her cubs up a tree, and even saw a few scattered cabins tucked into the quiet white landscape.

And somewhere along that ride, watching the world roll by at a steady, unhurried pace, it struck me that Fairbanks had given me something different this time. My first visit felt like an initiation into Alaska. This one felt like a reminder. The cold, the community, the surprises, the sky that never stops performing. Fairbanks still has its own rhythm, and all these years later, it still pulls me in.

I don’t know when I’ll get back to Fairbanks again, but I do know this. Alaska always finds a way to call me north. And every time I listen, it gives me another story worth telling.

-J.S. Whaldo