Utqiagvik feels like you’re on the edge of the world … because you kind of are. At least, you’re on the edge of North America being on the continent’s northernmost town.   This small town of less than 5,000 people sits on edge of the Arctic Ocean.  In the summer there is more than 80 days of uninterrupted sunlight.  In the winter, the sun sets around November 18^th … and doesn’t rise again until January 23^rd.  

My partner and I decided to visit when the seasons were not so extreme.  I booked a side trip up here around my partner’s birthday.   This side trip on his vacation was really more for me than it was for him, knowing that less manicured tourism was not something he enjoyed as much.  Keeping this in mind, I decided to book the more expensive of the two hotels in town, and then kept our stay to one day knowing the $300+ hotel night was really stretching my budget for gifting birthday trips.  I took this trip the year before I started All the Genders Photo Project, so didn’t dive into much for exploration of the queer community here.  I still wanted to share this pre-project stop as a fitting way to finish off a south to north blog series of my Alaska travels over the last couple years. 

Dressing for the Weather, and Shaking the Gender Roles

Before my partner flew north to hang out with me at the end of my park ranger season, I planned every detail of our two week Alaskan road trip.  A couple days before he flew out, I quizzed him on what he was packing for winter gear to be comfortable in September.  It wasn’t unusual for him to fuss about being cold on outdoor adventures, typically being underdressed for the elements of the day.  “You have to pack a pair of long johns …” and I went down the rest of my suggested list – scarf, hat, gloves.  He sounded a little dismissive, but agreed to pack the suggested items.  I sent him screen shots of the weather forecasts in different locations we were going to visit, where the temperatures varied wildly. 

As our plane landed in Utqiagvik, I nearly jumped out of my seat with excitement seeing a white Arctic fox sprinting alongside the plane next to the runway.   As we disembarked directly onto the runway, the wind relentlessly attacked from the Arctic Ocean, and snowflakes whipped around in swirling circles against the grey tones of the town.  We decided to walk the mile from the airport to the hotel so we could see some of the town.  My partner took the walk wearing a light jacket that was just thick enough to keep someone warm on a cool spring day in Virginia.   I was satisfied that he had at least remembered a hat and a fashionable scarf that wasn’t really equipped to break the wind and 20 degree (Fahrenheit) temperatures.   

The novelty of walking next to the Arctic Ocean elated both of us … initially.  As we approached the Top of the World Hotel, my partner looked relieved to see a familiar sight – a small coffee stand braving the wind in an open, empty lot.  He made a beeline and paid for a $10 cup of coffee to warm up.  After checking in at the hotel, we were offered a free room upgrade.  The room was on par with any Marriot I’ve ever stayed in, and had a giant window view of intimidating dark grey waves crashing against the coast line. 

30 minutes after checking into the room, I was excited to get out and explore more on foot before the skies darkened.  My partner reluctantly agreed to keep me company, putting on a second shirt under his warm weather jacket.   

About half a mile from the hotel, a snowy owl swooped down over our heads, then landed on the wet road.   The fierce looking bird set its wings into place, then seemed to challenge us with its yellow glare as we approached.   I had never seen a snowy owl and was in complete awe.  The owl gave us a warning shriek to stay away as I snapped a few photos.  Wow, wow, wow … what an amazing sight to see this creature just land in the road.  The nature nerd in me was on top of the world.  

I spotted more snowy owls huddled next to a small lake on the other side of the street.  More owls?!  I couldn’t wait to walk more of the street next to the blustery lake.  My partner grumped that he was ready to turn around.  I was dismayed, and tried to troubleshoot his grumpiness.  Was he feeling too cold? Did he need dinner? Did he need to use the bathroom? Wait, was he wearing long johns??  No, of course not … he snapped, as he started shivering …  why would he pack long johns in September?!   Okay, he was way too cold… I felt like I was trying to work out a child’s problems.  But, my partner is not a child, and I’m not in charge of making him happy, so suggested he start walking back to the hotel to warm up, while I did more bird watching.  He turned down the idea, so we opted to walk one more block together in the light snow/rain storm spotting at least 6 or 7 more snowy owls peppering the banks of the lake. 

Why am I sharing our vacation spat as part of this blog post?  Perhaps partly to keep it real … I mean, scrolling Insta perfect vacation photos is okay, but they don’t always show real experiences behind the photos. The next day, I was the person on the verge of an emotional breakdown when I couldn’t find a restaurant for lunch with food that I could eat on a restrictive diet for health needs. 

And perhaps I’m also sharing this to show my partner and I are continually working our way towards shaking the gender roles that our society socialized us into, particularly when it is not serving us well.  The role models I had growing up showed me that a female took care of every one her man’s comforts.  This concept doesn’t really work for me, but even after fully embracing my queer identities still find myself gravitating towards being the one to do most of the planning, sometimes jumping through hoops to make sure everything in life runs smoothly for the other person.  My spouse would often assume that I should be taking care of his discomfort, and that he is always right while I am mostly wrong.  We’re both intelligent people … so we’ve put more thought into what’s behind this over the 16 years we’ve been together, and have come to some conclusions that perhaps some of this is based on a foundation of genderized social roles and expectations. 

In any case, we still like each other and had a more productive conversation later on this vacation day. After a night of sleep in a warm, comfy hotel bed my partner felt more equipped to tackle the cold the next day. 

Tourism in Utqiagvik

Infrastructure for tourism … is kind of here in some ways, but not extensive.  If you are wanting to check a bucket list box for visiting the northernmost town in North America, just expect that no one will be rolling out the red carpet for you here.  If you’re open minded, there are some beautiful opportunities to learn about the rich history and culture of the Iñupiat Iñupiaq people who live here.   

An organized tour (cost: $160 per person for four hours) stopped at the Inupiat Heritage Center which is a state of the art museum combined with a workshop for any local artists to hone their skills.  We stopped to chat with an Elder who was carving a piece of baleen from the mouth of a bowhead whale.  Nearly every piece of the massive animals that sustain the diets of many are put to good use.  My partner’s initial trepidation upon learning that whales could be hunted here, then turned into fascination as we both learned more about how integral subsistence whaling is to this culture.  The bowhead whale skulls that decorate the properties of public buildings throughout the town may look eery.  However, they are a symbolic icon with an importance I can only start to wrap my head around.  

The tour also made a few other interesting stops, such as a local shop that sold shelves of board games and cheap party balloons right next to racks and floor to ceiling shelves of rich animal furs.  They dropped us off at the small grocery store where our eyes bulged at the high prices; the stop served its purpose to demonstrate the high cost of living here.   

Our guide drove halfway out to point Barrow, along a narrow spit that reaches into the Arctic Ocean.   There was a chance we could see polar bears wandering the beach, so our tour guide cautioned us not to wander far from the group.  He pointed out the orange lights on the front of buildings; if a polar bear was spotted in the town the orange lights would be on as a warning and a beacon of welcome.  Any pedestrians walking on the street could knock on any door expecting to be let in for refuge from the predatory bears.  Life in the Arctic looks harsh, but we also got the message that community members look out for each other to survive.  We were given the option to take a true polar bear plunge into the Arctic Ocean, and no one took up our guide on the offer as people struggled to stay warm on the blustery beach.   

Would I recommend visiting the this town at the top of the world?   Yes, absolutely.  Know that you’ll still have creature comforts here, but you’re not visiting a tropical resort.  It’s a beautiful glimpse into a different world and way of living.      

Thank you for being here and keeping me company on these journeys!