ALASKA

1. GENERAL INFORMATION
2. BLOGS
3. VIDEO CLIPS (Under Construction)

 

1. GENERAL INFO

Alaska located in the Far North West of the America’s Alaska is the northernmost, westernmost, State in the USA.  It shares a western maritime border with Russia. and is closer to Asia than any other U.S. state. With a population of around 750000 it is the third least state in the USA. An abundance of natural resources—including Commercial Fishing and the extraction of natural gas and oil—has enabled Alaska to have one of the highest per capita incomes in the USA

On March 27, 1964, the massive Good Friday 9.2 magnitude Earthquake killed 133 people and destroyed several villages and portions of large coastal communities, mainly by the resultant tsunamis and landslides.

The 1968 discovery of oil at Prudhoe Bay and the 1977 completion of the Trans Alaska Pipeline System led to an oil boom. Royalty revenues from oil have funded large state budgets from 1980 onward.

Alaska is the coldest state in the United States.

Alaska is a land of extremes—vast, wild, and unforgettable. Known as “The Last Frontier,” it’s the largest U.S. state, yet one of the least populated. Its landscapes stretch from towering mountains and dense forests to icy glaciers and rugged coastlines, offering a raw connection to nature that’s hard to find anywhere else.

1. Alaska Border to Valdez 2026
2. Valdez to Anchorage (Under Construction) 
3. Anchorage to Homer (Under Construction)
4. Alaska 2002 in Rental Motorhome.

 

1. ALASKA BORDER toVALDEZ  

We left Beaver Creek, the last Canadian stop before Alaska, with that familiar mix of excitement and uncertainty that comes with crossing borders.

Our preference would have been to enter Alaska via The Top of the world highway, but the highway and border crossing is closed till around May 15 and some years even later due to snow. (We will cover this on our way back to Canada if open)

 

Almost immediately, the landscape opened into sweeping tundra and distant mountain ridges, with the towering presence of Wrangell–St. Elias National Park and Preserve looming to the south—America’s largest national park, wild and largely untouched.

 

Wrangell–St. Elias National Park one of the largest protected wilderness areas on Earth, Wrangell–St. Elias National Park and Preserve, stretching endlessly into the distance.

The kind that stretches beyond what your eyes can hold and makes your thoughts feel smaller, quieter, clearer. The long, rugged drive toward McCarthy feels less like a road trip and more like a slow peeling away of modern life. Just beyond McCarthy sits Kennecott Mines—a cluster of weathered red buildings clinging to the mountainside. It’s impossible not to imagine what life was like here in the early 1900s. Thousands of workers, harsh winters, relentless labor—all for copper pulled from the earth beneath towering peaks.

What makes this park so unforgettable isn’t just any single place—it’s the sheer scale of everything. Peaks like Mount St. Elias rise into the clouds, massive and indifferent to everything below. Even Mount Wrangell, a quiet giant, dominates the horizon with an almost unreal presence. Wildlife is harder to spot in April, but it’s there. Moose move silently through the trees, blending into the shadows, reminding us to stay alert.

We did not come to Alaska for luxury we came to Alaska to meet the locals, taste their lifestyle, culture and see Winter change into spring

Back on the Alaska Highway, it looks like a ribbon of asphalt cutting through dense spruce forest and wide-open sky. Then, almost quietly, we arrived at Northway Junction. We pulled over near a small clearing. The air is sharp, clean, and carries that unmistakable interior Alaska stillness. Meeting the locals here they told us that stories here aren’t written on signs—they’re shared in conversations, in memories of long winters, this junction is more of a crossroads than a destination. The nearby village of Northway is known for its rich Athabascan heritage and quiet resilience. This tiny village of Northway reminded us how remote life can truly be here—simple, resilient, and deeply connected to the land.

With more snow unfortunately no more Aurora Borealis dancing overhead—silent, surreal, but unforgettable while camping out in the Alaskan wilderness. What makes Alaska in Winter turning into spring unforgettable isn’t just the scenery—it’s the feeling. The isolation, the cold, and the vastness.

Eventually, we reached Tok, the first real Alaskan town also known as the gateway to Alaska as most travellers enter Alaska via the Alaska Highway. For many road-trippers a welcoming checkpoint after miles of wilderness. Tok population is 1300 and the economy is based on tourism. Tok isn’t packed with “must-see” attractions—but that’s part of its charm. The highlights are subtle, practical, and rooted in the experience of being there. We stayed overnight in the parking lot of Fast Eddy’s Restaurant a great stop to meet the locals not just a place to have a bite to eat travellers swap stories. Everyone is either coming from somewhere incredible or heading toward it. The next morning, Tok revealed its role not just as a stop, but a crossroad. To the north lay Fairbanks and deeper interior Alaska; to the south, the wild sweep toward Glennallen and Anchorage; and behind us, the road back to Canada. In winter Tok turns into the Sled Dog Capital of the World. Tok became an introduction to everything Alaska promises.

Winter still owns the land this time of year. Snow stretches endlessly across the landscape, rivers lie frozen and silent, and the sky seems bigger than anywhere else. Along the Alaska Highway, the road is often packed with snow and ice, with frost heaves hiding beneath the surface. It’s not a drive you rush. You slow down, partly for safety—but mostly because the stillness demands it.

We followed the shortcut from Tok to the Richardson Highway and Glennallen, and the landscape began to change again but unfortunately for us the weather turned nasty again. We missed the real show stoppers, Mount Sanford, a giant of ice and rock that dominates the skyline. And nearby, Mount Drum adds its own rugged presence. On a clear day, the peaks look close enough to touch, though they’re many miles away.

The road from Tok to Glennallen isn’t long by Alaska standards—just over 200 kilometers, but it feels like a journey across a much bigger world. It’s the kind of drive where the scenery does most of the talking. As we near Glennallen, the mountains close in around us, and we feel the presence of something ancient and powerful. To the east, the snow-draped peaks of Wrangell–St. Elias National Park and Preserve stretch endlessly

Tucked along the junction of the Glenn and Richardson Highways, Glennallen itself is modest—just a handful of shops, lodges, and fuel stops. —but what surrounds it is where the story begins. That night we camped just outside town hoping for a great view over the Copper River Basin, but the weather had other ideas.

The following morning we woke up to a partly cloudy day, there was a particular kind of anticipation when we left our bush camp hoping for nice weather as we were looking forward to the road ahead to Valdez and the Mountain Man Snowmachine Hill Climb event on the Richardson highway.

This is a yearly event  where snowmachiners attempt to cruise their machines up a 1,700-foot slope to successfully reach the top and claim a winning time. This is a spectator-oriented event with high-stakes action.

Congratulations to all the winners and a huge thanks to all the volunteers and teams who made the 35th Annual Mountain Man Hillclimb another fantastic event.

2. VALDEZ TO ANCHORAGE

The last day of the mountain man hill climb snowmobiling event never happened—blizzard conditions shut it down completely. So instead, we pointed the car south and drove to Valdez, a small harbor town tucked deep within the Chugach Mountains.

By morning, Valdez had transformed. Overnight, 30 cm of fresh snow blanketed the town. Low clouds drifted lazily across the peaks, revealing them only in fleeting glimpses—like giants reluctant to wake. The harbor sat silent, scattered with fishing boats and the distant cry of gulls. April here feels suspended between seasons—winter still holding tight while spring quietly waits its turn.

That in-between moment is what makes Valdez special. It’s far from peak tourist season, and that’s the charm. No tourist —just locals gathering in coffee shops, fishermen preparing for the months ahead, and a landscape still wrapped in snow. When the sun finally broke through, the mountains lit up in a way that made the whole place feel untouched.

Not far from town, the icy wilderness of Prince William Sound stretched out in dramatic fashion—fjords, glaciers, and floating shards of ice drifting across calm, mirror-like water. Even here, signs of change were subtle: wildlife beginning to shift patterns as the deep freeze slowly loosened. Yet Valdez isn’t just wild—it’s also industrial. The terminal of the Trans-Alaska Pipeline System stands nearby, a stark contrast of steel and scale against glaciers and sea.

We had planned to take the ferry to Whittier, but in April it runs only once a week. So we retraced our route toward Glennallen—the same road we’d battled through in a blizzard days earlier. This time, it couldn’t have been more different. The first stop came quickly: Keystone Canyon. The road narrowed between towering cliffs where frozen waterfalls were just beginning to thaw. Bridal Veil Falls and Horsetail Falls spilled in a mix of ice and rushing water—half-frozen sculptures coming back to life.

From there, the climb toward Thompson Pass began—one of the snowiest places in Alaska. Higher up, the landscape opened into vast glacial valleys and jagged peaks, a complete contrast to the whiteout we’d driven through days before. The route toward Worthington Glacier State Recreation Site was stunning, though the road itself remained closed from the recent blizzard.

Descending toward Copper Center, the terrain softened. Alpine extremes gave way to wide valleys and spruce forests. We spent the night at Simpson Viewpoint, where Mount Wrangell sometimes reveals itself—though this time, it stayed hidden behind clouds.

The journey continued along the Glenn Highway, tracing the edges of the Chugach and Talkeetna ranges. Then suddenly, the massive Matanuska Glacier came into view—a frozen river stretching down from the mountains. Beside it, the braided channels of the Matanuska River shimmered under shifting light. We stopped again and again—each viewpoint somehow better than the last. This drive has its own rhythm; you don’t rush it, you follow it.

Closer to Palmer, the wilderness slowly gave way to farms, homes, and eventually traffic. Snow faded, replaced by wet ground and hints of spring. The final stretch into Anchorage followed the waters of the Knik Arm, where mountains and sea offered one last dramatic farewell. The drive from Valdez to Anchorage isn’t just about getting somewhere—it’s about witnessing Alaska unfold in layers. Waterfalls, glaciers, rivers, mountains—all stitched together by a single road that feels less like infrastructure and more like a story being told. Nearing Anchorage the snow disappeared and rain took over.

We arrived in Anchorage, the state’s largest city, and immediately felt its unique contrast, cyclists weaving through wide streets, and all of it framed by wild, towering mountains just minutes away. It’s a place where urban energy and untamed nature seem to coexist without effort.

This was our second visit to Anchorage, a city known worldwide as the starting point of the Iditarod dog sled race. There’s a certain excitement tied to that legacy. The surrounding natural beauty is amazing. Trails seem to begin just about everywhere, leading you into forests, up hills, and toward breathtaking views. Getting around felt surprisingly easy. The streets are wide, the pace is relaxed, and nothing ever feels too far away. It gave us the sense that Anchorage is designed to be lived in, not rushed through.

Anchorage isn’t flashy. It doesn’t try to overwhelm you with endless attractions or constant activity. Instead, it invites you to slow down and notice the details—the distant outline of mountains glowing at sunset, or the sudden appearance of wildlife when you least expect it. What stayed with us most, though, were the conversations. Locals have a way of turning simple chats into stories—about enduring long winters, celebrating midnight sun summers, or unexpected encounters with wildlife. In those moments, Anchorage felt less like a destination and more like a collection of lived experiences, quietly shared.

End of April and the days already stretching to nearly 16 hours of daylight. But we couldn’t help thinking of the winter version of the city, when Anchorage transforms into something quieter and more introspective. Snow softens everything, and the long darkness creates the perfect stage for the northern lights. There’s a kind of magic in that stillness, in standing outside and watching the sky come alive above you.

3. ANCHORAGE to HOMER (Under construction)

 

 

4. ALASKA 2002 RENTAL MOTORHOME

This Alaska tour was done in a hire 4WD  and motorhome from fairbanks. Denali national park by bus as access to the park was not allowed by private car

Alaska, was purchased by The USA in 1867 for 7 million dollars. Located in the far North West of North America the state lies mostly north of the 60^th parallel. Our visit was a mix between cruising and off roading and motorhome driving. In Alaska’s hearthland not only find Alaska’s highest peak but also Denali National park. This area is teeming with wildlife. Around the area are many gold mines. The south East of Alaska is home to over 50% of the population, easy accessible with a good road system and some great scenery in the Kenai Fjords National park. Homer is a charming colourful town overlooking Kachemak Bay. The local four-wheel drive people told us that in winter it is possible to reach Nome and Barrow by well-equipped 4WD vehicle but being July (summer) for us the only option was to fly and rent a 4WD local. The town of Barrow is the most Northern most city in the United States, right on the Arctic ocean. It has the coldest temp in the state, is dark up to 3 months of the year and 24-hour day light 4 months of the year. To top it off it can snow every month of the year. Barrow is just under 2000KM from the North Pole and has a population of around 4000 people. Nome on the West Coast of Alaska located on the Bering is just over 200 Kilometres from Russia. (Siberia) Like Barrow, Nome is shabby with lots of ATV-Snowmobiles-and wrecked vehicles, but it has a great gold rush history and still attracts many miners looking for gold. Leaving Alaska, we followed the inside passage also known as the marine highway, connecting all islands all the way down to Vancouver. This will allow you to take your vehicle to all the islands and remote parts on the coast. Great towns with shops, nice little restaurants and great pubs to meet the locals. Not to mention brilliant glaciers, bear spotting and lots of historic towns bringing back the gold rush boom.

Alaska is on the agenda as the end of our around the world tour but this is still 6 or 7 years from now.  (2018)

 

Photos last visit 2002