It's getting close to midnight, and close to my destination—mile marker 133 on Alaska's Glenn Highway, where I'm on the road to realize a lifelong dream. I'm going to see the northern lights.
I am Scott's only customer tonight, but whether it's one person or a bridal party from Japan, the professional photographer and videographer loves to come put here to witness one of nature's most spectacular shows — and to share it with others. "I can't tell you how much joy I get from seeing the smile on people's faces. That's worth it right there. That's the reason why I do tours, " he says.
I emerge from the van into minus 6 degrees. A bazillion stars sparkle, and the Milky Way pours overhead. What looks like a gray stream of cloud arches low over the horizon. "That's it!" says Scott. Really? That's it? I spent 13 hours in planes and airports, and then drove 2. 5 hours to see a gray belt? "Patience, " he says. "It will get better. Wait till 2 am. That's usually the best time. "
Aurora (极光) tourism is combined with winter activities like ice fishing, snow machine rides, and hot springs. As aurora guides and scientists will tell you, there's no guarantee of a sighting. But Fairbanks is a statistically good bet because of its northern location and freedom from coastal clouds, which can be a challenge for Anchorage. Travelers are recommended to put aside at least three nights to improve your chances of viewing, with the idea that you'll be up much of the night each time.
Each time he wakes me and I step outside, it appears more glorious. At first, a fuzz the size of a honeydew floats along the horizon. Another time, a broad green line stretches across the sky, followed by a short tail. "Do you see the red?" Scott asks. He has me look through his camera. It can see more color than the naked eye. Finally, as if playing a visual symphonic tune, a giant line of phosphorous (发磷光的) green seems to swoop down to the treetops and dollop them with a curlicue swirl. I'm smiling inside and out. We can go now.
