We felt a lot more confident on our return trip from Deadhorse back down to Fairbanks, for a few reasons.

1. We knew we had enough gas in the tanks to get us all the way to Coldfoot and then Fairbanks without using our reserve fuel, which was a load off our minds.
2. We were more familiar with the terrain and knew what to expect.
3. The weather forecast showed no snow on the Atigun Pass.
4. Our trip began with a good omen—an Arctic Swan crossed our path on the way out of town, and that’s a well-known sign of good luck that I just made up.

We had decided ahead of time that on the drive back we’d take three days to travel the highway, so that we could camp outside Gates of the Arctic National Park and hike in the next day, and then boondock somewhere south of Coldfoot to break up the long drive after the park. So when we came across a small herd of musk oxen in the distance, we knew we had plenty of time to stop and watch them graze for a while. They were just little brown blobs gliding around in the distance at first, but they slowly made their way toward us so we could make out their features. It was surreal seeing these animals that I knew existed but never expected to see in my lifetime, just munching grass across the road from me!

The whole day seemed to be in our favor. The sun was shining and the roads were snow-free and muddy, which actually made for a (slightly) more comfortable ride. And since the snow had melted a bit on the side of the road, we could see the turnouts, which we utilized to stop and enjoy the view and play with Scout.

The farther south we drove, the more amazed we were at how much of the scenery we’d missed on the first trip. Now that it was clear, we saw the myriad mountains surrounding us, many of them blanketed beautifully under new snow.

I know I’ve said it before, but this time I mean it more emphatically than ever: the pictures don’t do the experience any justice whatsoever. It wasn’t just the view; it was the exhilarating sensation of being a teeny tiny dot in the middle of a vast and expansive wilderness, almost completely isolated from any human fingerprint. The mountains were towering, the valleys stretched endlessly in all directions. I tried over and over to take one photo that could get close to depicting it, but I think you’ll just have to go see for yourself. And then I’ll want to talk to you about it afterwards.

The campground we’d planned to visit for the night was at Galbraith Lake, just north of the Atigun Pass. This also was the spot we’d pulled over to chain up on the way to Deadhorse, and this was when we realized how much we’d missed.

Remember, this was what it looked like before:

And this is what it looked like without snow and fog all around:

(See if you can spot the difference!)

We got to the campsite, and to our non-surprise we had the whole place to ourselves!

Shortly after arriving and getting everyone outside to play, the sun began to set. It was so perfect all we could do was “ooooh” and “ahhhh” and take picture after picture with every minute’s nuanced change.

The next day was the much-anticipated hike into Gates of the Arctic National Park!

Neither of us had ever walked on the lush tundra before, and what looked like a pretty straightforward hike was in fact a full-blown workout. The ground was made up of 8″ of soft spongy mosses sitting on top of supersaturated earth, so every step felt like walking through a memory foam pit and on a stair stepper at the same time (somehow). It was bizarre, and very fun. When we got tired, we’d just sit down and suck on arctic snowballs until we were ready to go again. It was so beautiful we didn’t mind sitting for a bit anyway.

When we got to a good viewpoint, we stopped to make a snowman.

Scout saw Andy collect sticks for the arms, and from that moment on he was convinced that we’d procured them just for him, and he did his very best to retrieve one so we could throw it for him.

We named our snowman The Gatekeeper of the Arctic. He had mossy hair, lichen eyes, a stone for a nose, evergreen shoots for a mouth, mushroom buttons, and a scarf of red bearberries. That’s too many words to put to the tune of “Frosty” I think, but if you can do it, we’d like to hear it!

Scout had been the picture of patience, but toward the end of the photo session, he began talking about the injustice of it all.

Then he completely stopped posing and began licking his chops while staring at our poor Gatekeeper’s arms.

We left our friendly snowman, and right as we began our descent Scout ran all the way back for his long-awaited stick. We called to him to “leave it” and he did, even from that far away! What a good boy. I found another stick on the ground and threw it for him as we hiked down, so don’t worry, his patience was rewarded.

We drove back to Coldfoot, gassed up, and drove on to Greyling Lake for the night.

 

We also got to enjoy more of the scenery on this leg of the journey, due to clear skies and sunshine. We watched the landscape get taller and fuller as we continued south, and it began feeling more like fall and less like the early winter we’d been experiencing in the far north.

The last day of our journey, we stopped once again for another photo at the Arctic Circle, as the day was sunnier than our first pass. A few BLM volunteers were there, and when they offered to take our photo for us, I waved my Crazy Cat Lady card in the air and insisted we get a photo with Gracie too, since she’s probably one of very few cats who have traveled into the Arctic Circle!

The remainder of the drive was stunning, and happily felt very uneventful compared to the excitement of the last few days on the Dalton Highway! We just enjoyed the scenery as it passed by us smoothly, as we waited to feel the pavement under our wheels again.