Fairbanks, Alaska

March 2025

Fairbanks - Alaska

This year for Spring Break, we traded sandy beaches for snow-draped wilderness. Instead of chasing the sun, my family and I flew north, way north, to Fairbanks, Alaska, for a winter adventure that had been sitting on my wife’s and my bucket list for years. Our mission: to catch a glimpse of the elusive northern lights.

I’d always imagined that in a place like Fairbanks, the aurora would just be there, flickering across the sky every night like clockwork. But it turns out the northern lights are far more elusive. Clouds, light pollution, and the lack of solar flares can cloak them for days on end. Many come with hope, and many leave without ever seeing them. Still, our spirits were high, fingers crossed, hearts open to possibility.

On the evening of our first scheduled tour, the phone rang with bad news. Our guide called to cancel. The skies didn’t look promising. My stomach sank. Had we come all this way only to be greeted by clouds and darkness? If so, no worries, we were here together and would make the most of our time here in Alaska. Luckily, they rebooked us for a few nights later, and that stroke of patience would change everything.

When the second call came, It’s on! That night we piled into a van with about eight other hopefuls, setting out on a three-hour drive toward one of Alaska’s prime viewing points. But luck had already chosen us. Just minutes outside Fairbanks, the driver suddenly pulled over, shouting for us to get out.

And then, we saw it.

The sky above us shimmered alive, a curtain of green light unfurling and rippling as if some unseen hand was painting with fire. The aurora swirled and danced, growing brighter and larger until it felt like an explosion of light cracked open the heavens themselves. It was otherworldly, surreal, like standing inside a dream you never wanted to end.

“Everyone out of the van!” our guide yelled, urgency in his voice. Later he told us: this was a 10% night. A night when the aurora burns so brilliantly that it only happens about 10% of the time. Somehow, impossibly, we had landed in that golden 10%.

We continued deeper into the wilderness, eventually settling at a remote base for the rest of the night. The lights flared again and again while we snapped photos, sometimes just lowering the camera to simply stand in awe. At one point, one of the younger guides brought us into a small igloo he’d built himself from packed snow using nothing more than a bucket. Inside, it was just the four of us, my wife, my daughter, the guide, and me. Cold seeped through the walls, but it was still warmer than the biting air outside. Sitting there, inside a real igloo under a sky alive with light, felt like stepping back into some ancient, magical time.

Back outside, bonfires roared and crackled, throwing sparks into the night. A small heated truck offered refuge, steaming cups of cocoa, and even souvenirs, but we kept slipping back outdoors, drawn by the sky’s unrelenting theater. Hours passed in a haze of wonder until exhaustion finally pulled us back to our beds.

The night had carved itself into our memories forever.

The rest of the trip was equally enchanting. We soaked in the steamy warmth of Chena Hot Springs while snow swirled around us, walked with a pack of reindeer as they milled through the forest, laughed together as sled dogs whisked us through the wilderness, my daughter especially couldn’t get enough, and marveled at the frozen artistry at the ice sculpture museum. Each moment added another jewel to the crown of the journey.

But nothing will ever eclipse that night beneath the aurora. To see the northern lights together as a family, to feel so small and yet so alive beneath their glow, that was the gift we had come for, and it was better than we could have ever imagined.

*I’ve chosen to share only photos of myself here, out of respect for my family’s privacy. Still, I felt compelled to include this journey on my solo travel blog. Though it was a family adventure, it wasn’t just another vacation, it was the kind of once-in-a-lifetime experience that I wanted to put alongside my personal explorations. This was a bucket list dream finally lived, and here now in my blog as a place to hold the memories for decades to come.