story and photo by Tilar J. Mazzeo –
Some years life seems to speed past more quickly than others. So when a girlfriend wrote and asked if I’d go hunt the aurora borealis with her, for old time’s sake, I said I was in as long as we could also sample some Arctic vodka.
So it was that three middle-aged ladies took ourselves off to a cozy “dry” cabin in -37° C somewhere north of Fairbanks, Alaska and somewhere not a lot south of the arctic circle (www.airbnb.ca/rooms/844279850576199778). “Dry” meaning: no running water and off-grid power. No showers? That can only mean one thing: hot springs!
After a quick flight to Seattle, we winged it northbound to Fairbanks. Our cabin was just a mile south of Chena Hot Spring (www.chenahotsprings.com) where volcanic water bubbles up into a natural lake in the midst of wilderness. You can’t miss Chena Hot Springs: you just drive until the road ends. The springs proved to be the perfect place to start our hunt for the aurora. I am a snob about hot springs, and, if you are too, you will know what I mean when I say that it was properly hot. I hate a lukewarm hot spring! Day passes to the pools are US$20 and, while the facilities are rustic, well worth it.
While sometimes you can see the northern lights early enough to watch them overhead from the pools (which stay open until nearly midnight), we opted instead on our first night for the off-road mountain-top adventure. We passed over our US$80, and at 9:30 p.m. set off with our guide, Alexi, in a military-surplus vehicle, up a snow track to the top of a nearby peak, where we waited for the aurora in Mongolian-style yurts with a motley collection of people from around the world, all bundled up in our coldest weather gear.
At about 11 p.m. we spotted, maybe, something. It lingered for hours on the horizon, a pale electric-green flicker. And, then, at about 1:30 a.m., the sky began to pulse in brilliant neon arcs of colour.
The Eskimo say that the aurora are spirits leading the dead over the threshold. The Japanese say they are the spirits of the unborn waiting to enter our world and that to be conceived under the northern lights is a blessing. (There were a suspicious number of honeymooning couples on the mountain that night; none of us dared to inquire.) The Vikings believed the aurora were the women-warriors, the Valkyrie, leading fallen soldiers to Valhalla. All I can say is, I am a pretty jaded traveller, and it’s actually kind of amazing!
We bounced down the mountain, giddy and cold, and luck was with us: the engine of our frozen SUV turned over. We headed home, content, to talk until dawn and to raise a “skål” (or “toast”) while sampling our local vodka selection. A number of excellent small distilleries operate out of Fairbanks, but our vote goes to the aptly named Hoarfrost Vodka (www.hoarfrost.vodka).
