The Last Frontier: On a Quest to Find the Real Alaska

By Tim Johnson

As we rise up the flanks of the Pacific Coast Ranges in a helicopter, the chopper thumps its way onto a land of snow and ice, blue and white, snow caps and glaciers, leaving behind the sun-dappled boreal forest of an Alaskan summer in the Knik River Valley below.

Riding next to me, an amiable husky named Harris looks out the window at the sweeping scenery, seeming to appreciate it as much as the rest of the chopper’s passengers. As we near our landing spot on the Colony Glacier, I can feel the dog’s anticipation. She’s looking forward to reuniting with her pack, her human master and his dogsled. Even in the summer, there’s snow on the mountains and the dogs are keen to run. Surging over a ridge, the scene comes into view – mountain summits in the clouds and the rest of Harris’s pack are lined up against the backdrop of endless whiteness.

From Anchorage, the Knik River Valley is just an hour’s drive to the northeast, and the glacier is a short but spectacular helicopter ride after that. Stepping out from under the rotors and crunching into squeaky snow, the dogs bark their greetings. Soon after meeting them and their handler, I’m on a sled, acting as the musher and cutting through the powder. Pulled by a team of 16 dogs, they make quick work of the short four-kilometre course we traversed today.

I’m not far from Anchorage, but it feels like I’m in a whole different world. I came here to see the real Alaska, embarking on remarkable adventures – experiencing everything from the rare air of North America’s highest peaks to dog sleds on mountaintops, to a spectacular finish – encounters with orcas.

I board the Denali Star Train and chug north, sitting on the upper level and enjoying the panorama rolling past its domed car. Soon enough, I arrive at North America’s tallest mountain. Formerly known as Mount McKinley, Denali rises almost 6,200 metres above sea level. It’s one of the highest peaks in the world and is surrounded by a vast national park of the same name, encompassing more than 24,000 square kilometres.

Here, plenty of northern adventures await, including a wild ride on an ATV. As I ride deep into the national park, I chat with James Davey, the driver of the Savage River Shuttle, who shares thrilling stories of his many miles on these backcountry roads. The park is home to an array of animals – wolves, caribou, moose, Arctic fox, along with thousands of black bears and grizzlies. “I get people from all walks of life and from all over the world,” he tells me. “Everyone gets so excited when they have their first wildlife sighting.”

Back on the Alaska Railroad, I turn south, again via Anchorage, now riding a train called the Coastal Classic through narrow, winding valleys and along a stretch where the Chugach Mountains meet the sea – with the track in between. We arrive in Seward, my final stop here in America’s largest state.

Boarding the Spirit of Adventure, a sturdy, twin-hulled vessel, we roll out onto Resurrection Bay and into the wilds of Kenai Fjords National Park.

Again, the state’s natural wonders are close at hand. The park preserves bays and islands and its namesake fjords, and encompasses some 40 glaciers. Soon we’re at the foot of the Holgate Glacier, eight kilometres across, and always in motion, marching to the Gulf of Alaska, layers peeling off in cascades of ice and snow as it reaches the sea.

As we continue onward, the wildlife surrounds us. Playful sea otters come to say hello, sea lions swim nearby, and we spot white, puffy mountain goats on the lush greenery onshore above, while majestic bald eagles and adorable puffins fly overhead. And then the whales. While most orca sightings involve resident pods, who hang around in one area and eat salmon, these are transients, the aquatic equivalent of a pack of wild dogs.

Local guides have dubbed them the ‘Kodiak Killers,’ as they are most often spotted near Kodiak Island. We take in their dark dorsal fins as they skim silently through the water close by. A moment of awe ensues, the unique thrill of this chance encounter. And then, as quickly as they appeared, they’re gone. The pod has headed off to seek their next prey while we sail back toward Seward in search of another adventure in this wonderfully wild, still untamed, state.