35 Best Sights in The Bush, Alaska

At the northern end of the Alaska Peninsula, this sanctuary protects the world's largest gathering of brown bears. During the July to mid-August chum season, when salmon return to spawn, 50, 60, or even 70 brown bears congregate daily at the McNeil River falls to fish, eat, play, nap, and nurse cubs. The action happens within 15 to 20 feet of a viewing pad, so close that you can hear these magnificent creatures breathe and catch a whiff of their wet fur. Only 10 people a day can visit the viewing sites, and staffers (armed) are on hand to ensure that everyone behaves in nonthreatening, nonintrusive ways.

Because demand is so high, the Alaska Department of Fish and Game issues permits via a mid-March lottery. Applications and a nonrefundable $30 fee must be received by March 1, and Alaska residents get preferential treatment. Those who win pay an additional fee of just over $100 to $525, depending on the type of permit and the holder's residency. Air taxis to the sanctuary fly out of Homer on the Kenai Peninsula. Once in the sanctuary, all travel is by foot and guided by state biologists. Permit holders camp on gravel pads, in a protected area near a communal cook house, and must bring all their food.

The Porcupine caribou herd, with nearly 200,000 animals, migrates through Alaska's Arctic and Canada's adjacent Vuntut and Ivvavik National Parks, flowing like a river of animals across the expansive coastal plain, through U-shape valleys and alpine meadows, and over high mountain passes. These migration routes demonstrate the interconnected nature of the region's lands and waters, and how arbitrary human boundaries seem.

The largest of the Pribilof Islands at 40 square miles, St. Paul Island is home to the greatest concentration of northern fur seals in the world—500,000 of them—and more than 180 varieties of birds. Certainly it's hard to reach, but it's also a guaranteed treat for adventuresome naturalists. Russian fur traders claimed and named St. George, St. Paul, and St. Peter Islands, and they also enslaved the people of the Aleutian communities in Atka, Siberia, and Unalaska, relocating them to the islands to hunt for fur seals. About 500 descendants of Indigenous Aleutian-Russians live in St. Paul year-round, and the community has many elements of Aleutian cultures, as well as the Russian Orthodox Sts. Peter and Paul Church, built in 1907. The local museum provides details on how the U.S. government once controlled seal hunting on the island.

Anchorage's Alaska Regional Hospital has been operating Alaska Regional LifeFlight Air Ambulance since 1985. It might seem far to go if you get hurt in, say, Kotzebue, but the crew begins emergency care as soon as a passenger is picked up. In true Alaska fashion, planes taxi right up to the hospital's entrance like regular ambulances.

Through old newspapers, memorabilia, video footage, and exhibits about the Aleutian Campaign, this quaint museum outside the Unalaska Airport preserves bits of history from Alaska's little-known role in the war. The Aleutian Islands saw heavy fighting through much of World War II; at the peak of the war, more than 60,000 servicemen were stationed here in the farthest and most brutal reaches of the United States. On June 3 and 4, 1942, the Japanese bombed Dutch Harbor and landed in the far reaches of the Aleutians a few days later. The Japanese military forces took entire villages and outposts captive in Kiska and Attu, with many of those captured transported to Japan as prisoners of war. The center is within easy walking distance of the ferry terminal.

The historic area also includes Ft. Schwatka, a U.S. Army base poised on a mountain and comprised of over 100 structures when fully built out. You can do a group or self-guided walking tour of the fort by getting an access permit from the Ounalashka Corporation at 400 Salmon Way or at the visitor center.

Anaktuvuk Pass lies on a divide between the Anaktuvuk and John Rivers in the central Brooks Range. A small Nunamuit Iñupiat village of the same name sits atop this 2,000-foot pass. The economy and traditions here center on the caribou herds that supply residents with most of their meat. Surrounded by mountains, rivers, and lakes, this is one of the North Slope's most scenic spots. Daily flights from Fairbanks travel to the village, and you can walk from there into the national park. You can also do backpacking trips that start or end at the pass. As elsewhere in Gates of the Arctic, some of the terrain here is on private or Native corporation land, so inquire at the ranger station about where it's best to hike and camp—and whether or not you need permission to do so.

This parkland of 586,000 acres contains an extraordinary living volcano that rises to the south of Katmai. Towering more than 4,400 feet above the landscape, the volcano also has one of the largest calderas in the world, with a diameter averaging 6 miles across and 2,500 feet deep. Although Aniakchak last erupted in 1931, geologists place the first eruption after the last ice age because of the lack of glaciation. The Aniakchak climate brews mist, clouds, and serious wind much of the year. The caldera is so big that it can create its own weather patterns, and it really seems to like the bad stuff. Although the Aniakchak River (which drains Surprise Lake) is floatable, it has stretches of Class III and IV white water navigable only by expert river runners, and you must travel through open ocean waters to reach the nearest community, Chignik Bay (or get picked up by plane, along the coast). In other words, this is not a place for the unprepared or untested. An alternate way to enjoy Aniakchak is to wait for a clear day and fly to it in a small plane that will land you on the caldera floor or on Surprise Lake. There are no trails, campgrounds, ranger stations, or other visitor facilities here, though there are plenty of bears and mosquitoes.

Take a summer evening drive to the top of Anvil Mountain, near Nome, for a panoramic view of the old gold town and the Bering Sea. As this is the city's lone peak, anyone in town will be able to direct you there. Be sure to carry mosquito repellent.

The Arctic Refuge includes one of the few protected Arctic coastal lands in the United States, as well as millions of acres of mountains and alpine tundra in the easternmost portion of the Brooks Range. Hundreds of thousands of birds, caribou, and other animals move across the Arctic Refuge during their annual migrations, relying on the area to nurse and feed their young while finding refuge from insects and predators. The Iñupiat and Gwich'in peoples have also relied on the lands of the Arctic Refuge for their food and ways of life for thousands of years. The Gwich'in consider the coastal plain of the Arctic Refuge a sacred place because it feeds and protects the Porcupine caribou herd, which in turn feeds and provides the cultural foundation for the Gwich'in people. The quest for oil in the coastal plain has become a divisive issue that pits corporate interests and proponents of oil extraction against those seeking to protect traditional ways of life for generations to come. A lease sale of land in the coastal plan occurred in January 2021, but any further oil and gas activity or industrialization has been put on hold.

The coastal area of the Arctic Refuge also provides critical denning grounds for polar bears, which spend much of their year on the Arctic Ocean's pack ice. Other wildlife include grizzly bears, Dall sheep, wolves, musk ox, and dozens of varieties of birds, from snowy owls to geese and tiny songbirds. As in many of Alaska's more remote parks and refuges, there are no roads here, and no developed trails, campgrounds, or other visitor facilities. Counterintuitively, for such a notoriously brutal geography, the plants and permafrost are quite fragile. The ground can be soft and wet in summer months, so walk with care: footprints in the tundra can last 100 years. Plan for snow in almost any season, and anticipate subfreezing temperatures even in summer, particularly in the mountains. Many of the clear-flowing rivers are runnable, and tundra lakes are suitable for base camps (air taxis can drop you off and pick you up).

Stretching along the southern edge of the Alaska Peninsula, these two refuges encompass nearly 6 million acres of towering mountains, glacial lakes, broad tundra valleys, and coastal fjords. Volcanoes dominate the landscape—14 in all, nine of them active—and the waters are known for their salmon and grayling. The world-record grayling, nearly five pounds (most weigh a pound or less), was caught at Ugashik Narrows in 1981. Remote and rugged, with the peninsula's signature unpredictable weather, the Becharof and Alaska Peninsula Refuges draw mostly anglers and hunters. Backpackers, river runners, and mountain climbers also occasionally visit.

Some people hike the Kanatak Trail in Becharof, an ancient route between the Pacific Ocean and Bristol Bay via Becharof Lake. Early settlers continued using the trail and developed settlements, with oil exploration bringing people to the region in the 20th century. The last residents left in the 1950s. If you walk the trail now, you're likely to see plenty of animals and no other humans. It's not a long hike—about 5 miles—but the weather, terrain, and other elements can be challenging, so come prepared.

The frozen ash and lava of the 2.8-million-acre Bering Land Bridge National Preserve lie between Nome and Kotzebue, immediately south of the Arctic Circle, one of the most remote parks in the world. The Lost Jim lava flow is the northernmost flow of major size in the United States, and the paired maars (clear volcanic lakes) are a geological rarity.

Of equal interest are the paleontological features of this preserve. Sealed into the permafrost are flora and fauna—bits of twigs and leaves, tiny insects, small mammals, even the fossilized remains of woolly mammoths—that flourished here when the Bering Land Bridge linked North America to what is now Russia. "Bridge" is something of a misnomer; essentially, the Bering Sea was dry at the time, and the intercontinental connection was as much as 600 miles wide in places. Early people wandered through this treeless landscape, perhaps following sources of food and materials, such as the musk ox, whose descendants still occupy this terrain, or the mammoths and steppe bison, which are both long gone. Flowering plants thrive in this seemingly barren region, about 250 species in all, and tens of thousands of migrating birds can be seen in season. More than 100 species, including ducks, geese, swans, sandhill cranes, and various shorebirds and songbirds, come here from around the world each spring.

At Katmai's biggest draw, viewing platforms overlook Brooks Falls, a 6-foot cascade. Here, salmon leap upriver to their spawning grounds while brown bears stand on the edge of the falls to catch them, particularly in July and September. An access trail and boardwalk are separated from the river to avoid confrontations with bears. Note, too, that the daily tour to the Valley of Ten Thousand Smokes starts from nearby Brooks Lodge, and there's camping at Brooks Camp (just $12 a night, no permit required).

The most northern mountain range in North America stretches some 700 miles west to east across northern Alaska into Canada's Yukon Territory. Considered a subrange of the Rocky Mountains, the Brooks Range is the highest range above the Arctic Circle, with peaks of nearly 9,000 feet. Noatak National Preserve, Kobuk Valley National Park, and Gates of the Arctic National Park all lie within it. At the range's western end, the Baird Mountains, where Mt. Angayukaqsraq is the highest peak (4,700 feet), are in Kobuk Valley National Park.

The northernmost mountain range in North American stretches some 700 miles west to east across Alaska into Canada's Yukon Territory. The Brooks Range also forms the continent's northernmost drainage divide, separating streams flowing into the Arctic Ocean and the Pacific. It also marks the northern extent of the tree line. The range is the highest to the east, with peaks of nearly 9,000 feet.

Gates of the Arctic National Park lies in the center of the Brooks Range, with the Arrigetch Peaks as the showpiece. Designated a National Natural Landmark, the peaks draw hikers, flightseers, and even climbers intrepid enough to scale granite walls that rise thousands of feet. "Arrigetch" means "fingers of the outstretched hand" in the Iñupiaq language, and the name truly conveys the sense of awe experienced by many of those who visit them.

Just downstream from Brooks Falls, you can fish for salmon and rainbow trout in Brooks River. Note, though, that sometimes only fly-fishing is permitted, and there are seasonal closures to prevent contact with bears, so check locally for the latest information.

This museum, located in the Richard Foster Building, holds the long-term exhibit Nome: Hub of Cultures and Communities Across the Bering Strait, which centers on five Arctic themes and involves interactive environments, such as an Iñupiat skin boat and miner's tent, along with hands-on technology to help engage the narratives. A second space contains a changing contemporary exhibit that typically features a regional artist or artists.

Undoubtedly the most dramatic human-made sight in Unalaska is the Holy Ascension Russian Orthodox church. The blue, onion-domed chapel right on the edge of Iliuluk Bay is arguably the most perfectly intact and authentic Russian church left in Alaska, and possibly the most scenic church anywhere. The extant buildings date to the 1890s, although there has been a church on the site since 1808. Now a National Historic Landmark, Holy Ascension is one of the oldest cruciform-style Russian churches in the nation, and it houses one of Alaska's richest collections of Russian artifacts, religious icons, and artwork. Next to the church is the Bishop's House. A walk in the graveyard between the two buildings captures some of the history of the area. Tours of the church can be arranged through the Unalaska/Dutch Harbor Convention and Visitors Bureau.

The Kobuk Valley provides a glimpse into what the thousand-mile-wide grassland of Beringia, the land connecting Asia and North America during the last ice age, looked like. The Kobuk River bisects the national park, with dunes to the south and broad wetlands leading to the Baird Mountains to the north. Running hundreds of miles (60 of them in the national park) from the Endicott Mountains to Kotzebue Sound, the generally wide river has been used for transportation for thousands of years. It also sustains a big population of sheefish, a large predatory whitefish in the salmon family that spawns in the river's upper reaches every fall. A portion of the vast Western Arctic caribou herd uses the Kobuk Valley as a winter range, and the boreal forest reaches its northernmost limits here.

South of the Kobuk River, the Great Kobuk (the largest active, high-altitude dune field on Earth), Little Kobuk, and Hunt River Sand Dunes—stabilized by small trees, shrubs, and the lichen that's typical of the tundra—cover much of the southern Kobuk Valley. They formed when glaciers slowly pulverized mountain rock into sand that washed into the valley during the last ice age. Of note, a flowering herb called the Kobuk locoweed is only found on the slopes of the Great Kobuk Sand Dunes. Most outfitters and air taxis that operate in the Arctic will take visitors to the sand dunes.

This remarkable museum highlights the cultural, military, and natural history of the Aleutian and Pribilof Islands. You'll find an array of objects representing some of the region's history, from gut parkas and repatriated religious artifacts to original drawings from Captain Cook's third voyage. The exhibits also give glimpses into the Unangax̂ way of life, as well as illustrating the impact of Russian contact and occupation, the gold rush, World War II, the fishing industry, and more. In the summer, the museum sponsors archaeological digs as well as periodic lectures by visiting scientists, historians, and researchers.

The Alatna, John, Kobuk, Noatak, and Tinayguk Rivers with the North Fork of the Koyukuk River make up six of the 13 National Wild and Scenic Rivers in Gates of the Arctic National Park. They have been byways for people and animals for thousands of years, and they support each summer's explosion of life. They're also navigable, with a variety of access points. Boating through the park reveals mountains, glacial valleys, and rolling tundra, plus glimpses of animals along the landscape.

Most people use rafts, inflatable canoes, packrafts, or other collapsible boats, as air taxis will not haul rigid vessels. Although the waters are generally Class I and II rapids, a few sections include Class II–IV rapids. The water is cold, and conditions constantly change, with levels fluctuating dramatically and the possibility of log jams and strainers. But when the going is good, boating can beat walking through thick tussocks and boggy ground. Many outfitters offer paddling options. If you're heading out on your own, talk to your air-taxi operator or local guides about current conditions.

Adjacent to Gates of the Arctic National Park and Preserve, 6.5-million-acre Noatak National Preserve encompasses much of the basin of the Noatak River. This is the largest mountain-ringed river basin in the country, and part of it is designated by the National Park Service as a Wild and Scenic River. The river carves out the "Grand Canyon of the Noatak" over 425 miles and serves as a migration route between arctic and subarctic ecosystems. Its importance to wildlife and plants has resulted in its designation as an International Biosphere Reserve. The Noatak River also serves as a natural highway for humans and has for thousands of years. These days, river runners head here because of its beauty, inviting tundra for camping, and good hiking in the nearby Poktovik Mountains and Igichuk Hills. Birding can be exceptional; horned grebes, gyrfalcons, golden eagles, parasitic jaegers, owls, terns, and loons are among the species you may see. You may also spot grizzly bears, Dall sheep, wolves, caribou, and lynx, as well as the occasional musk ox. The most frequently run part of the river, ending at Lake Machurak, is mostly an easy Class I–III paddle. As with other parks and preserves in this northwest corner of Alaska, no visitor facilities are available and you are expected to be self-sufficient. Do not forget first-aid supplies, clothing for all conditions, and precautions for being on the water and around wildlife. Most trips on the Noatak use the inland town of Bettles as a gateway.

Stop by the Nome Convention & Visitors Bureau for a historic-walking-tour map, a city map, and information on local activities. The offerings do a good job capturing Nome's historic and current role as a gateway to the vast expanses of western Alaska.

Due west of Bethel and separated from the Yukon-Kuskokwim Delta by the Etolin Strait, Nunivak Island is part of the Yukon Delta National Wildlife Refuge. The terrain includes interior craters and deep lakes from the island's volcanic origins, plus over 40 rivers and a tundra that gives way to shorelines and lagoons. The island sustains a large herd of reindeer managed by residents of the only permanent settlement on the island, the Cup'ik village of Mekoryuk. There's also a transplanted herd of musk ox, along with vast seabird colonies, migratory birds, and an array of sea mammals. For information on the island and travel options, contact the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service in Bethel.

If you're hiking the wildflower-carpeted tundra around Kotzebue, you are entering a living museum dedicated to permafrost, the permanently frozen ground that lies just a few inches below the spongy tundra. Even Kotzebue's 6,000-foot airport runway is built on permafrost—with an insulating layer between the frozen ground and the airfield surface to ensure that landings are smooth. These days, thawing permafrost can cause problems for communities like Kotzebue: as the ice that binds frozen ground melts due to warm temperatures, the ground collapses and splits, damaging buildings, roads, and other infrastructure.

Named after Thomas "Pinky" Sekanoff, who walked across the Bering Strait to escape the Russian Revolution in the early 1900s, the 22-acre Pinky's Park remembers his life in Bethel and constant goodwill toward the kids in the community. Take a stroll on the park's nearly 2 miles of wooden boardwalks, decks, and trails. These structures are engineered to hold up to the often harsh climate while not damaging the tundra underneath. There's also a nice community garden, along with a playground and multiuse sports field that acts as a hub for all of Bethel's July 4 festivities.

Rising out of the surging waters of the Bering Sea, the Pribilof Islands are a misty, fog-bound breeding ground of seabirds and northern fur seals that consist of five islets, all tiny, green, and treeless, with rippling belts of lush grass contrasting with volcanic rocks. In early summer, seals come home from far Pacific waters to mate, and the larger islands, St. Paul and St. George, are overwhelmed with frenzied activity. Although St. Paul and St. George are less than 50 miles apart, the island group itself is a 1,600-mile round-trip from Anchorage, over the massive snowy peaks of the Alaska Peninsula and north of the rocky islands of the Aleutian chain.

Few visitors go to the Pribilofs, save commercial fishermen and the most dedicated wildlife watchers. Yet together, St. Paul and St. George Islands are seasonal homes to hundreds of thousands of fur seals (about 80% of them on St. Paul) and nearly 250 species of birds. Some birds migrate from as far away as Argentina, while others are year-round residents. Most spectacular of all is the islands' seabird population: each summer more than 2 million seabirds gather at traditional Pribilof nesting grounds; about 90% of them breed on St. George.

Though home to nearly 2 million nesting seabirds, St. George Island is rarely visited because no organized tours visit here, and accommodations are limited. People who live on St. Paul try to avoid going to St. George because of the weather. Avid bird- and wildlife watchers will find plenty to feast the eye on, however.

One of the most isolated roads in the country, the Dalton Highway (Alaska Route 11) consists mostly of loose-packed dirt and gravel that can put wear and tear on your vehicle, as well as your spine. It can also take you on a magical road trip with sublime views and remarkable experiences. If heading up the 400-plus-mile "haul road" toward the Arctic Ocean, start 80 miles north of Fairbanks at a tiny town called Livengood (population: a baker's dozen, more or less), and then keep heading north.

The Dalton was built to support construction of the Trans-Alaska Pipeline and the oil fields on the North Slope, so the pipeline and tinges of industrialization parallel the road—and spellbinding beauty spreads out beyond it. The drive will take you through boreal forest, the Brooks Range, the Arctic foothills, the coastal plain tundra, and finally, a few miles short of the Arctic Ocean, to a town called Deadhorse, a place named exactly how it feels.

There's much to see along the way, yet many reasons to miss the show. The drive can be treacherous, with hazards ranging from speeding 18-wheelers to fog, snow, rain, potholes, and steep grades, with only a few services along the way. Plan ahead (spare tires, provisions, etc.), and take your time. Like all good road trips, there are things you won't want to miss, and a few you will.

This dramatically sculpted landscape demonstrates the power of volcanic eruptions and their effect on geology, flora, and fauna. The impact of the Novarupta eruption on the park's ecosystems can be both obvious and subtle, so it's helpful to have a guide. The park concessionaire offers a tour ($96, including lunch) that departs from Brooks Camp on a 46-mile (round-trip) bus ride to the valley, with an optional 3.4-mile hike to the valley floor and back. This is also the bus to take for multiday backpacking trips up the valley to Mt. Katmai or the foot of Novarupta itself.