Cut off from the rest of the United States, this great northern oasis has been attracting renegades, free thinkers, roughneck profiteers and nature-lovers from the very beginning. Alaska is about independence, individualism and taking care of business. It’s a state of transient workers, rugged frontiersmen and women, and down-home sensibilities, and a place that attracts the eccentric in all of us. And that’s what makes the Alaskan way of life so fascinating.
Most of Alaska may be rural, roadless areas collectively known as the Bush, but most Alaskans are urban. Almost 70% of the residents live in the three largest cities: Anchorage, Fairbanks and Juneau.
The vast majority of households in rural Alaska participate in subsistence living. Studies show that 86% use game and 95% use fish. There are also Alaskans who gather and hunt the majority of their food and live in small villages that can only be reached by boat, plane or, in the winter, snowmobile. But the majority live in urban neighborhoods, work a nine-to-five job and shop at the supermarket.
And most Alaskans are newcomers. Only about a third of the state’s population was born in Alaska; the rest moved there. Such a transient population creates a melting pot of ideas, philosophies and priorities. What they usually have in common is an interest in the great outdoors: they were lured here to either exploit it or enjoy it, and many residents do a little of both.
Thus debates in Alaska usually center on access to land, resources, and, in particular, the wilderness. There are some liberal bastions of environmentalism, Juneau and Homer being the best known, but over the years Alaskans have moved to the right, voting for Republican presidents, fighting tax increases and becoming one of the first states to pass a constitutional amendment banning same-sex marriages (which was later struck down within the court system). Alaska also became the third state in the USA to legalize cannabis use, in 2015.
Alaska is a firearms-friendly state, and travelers should know that opinions that favor gun control will likely not be appreciated, especially in rural areas. To be fair, many Alaskans live in places where the nearest law enforcement is hundreds of miles away, while the nearest bear is sometimes right outside their door. Even the most hardcore environmentalist may keep a rifle on hand for protection from wildlife if they live in an isolated enough area. Drive past any street sign in rural Alaska, and you’ll likely notice it’s been used as target practice.
Travelers come to visit and marvel at the grand scenery. But Alaskans are here to stay, so they need to make a living in their chosen home, a land where there is little industry or farming. They regard trees, oil and fish as an opportunity to do that.
In Anchorage, residents can shop at enclosed malls, spend an afternoon at one of 162 parks, go in-line skating along paved bike paths, or get in their car and drive to another town. By contrast, in Nunapitchuk, 400 miles west of Anchorage on the swampy tundra of the Yukon–Kuskokwim Delta, the population is 526, there are no roads to or within town, homes and buildings are connected by a network of boardwalks, and there is just one store and a health clinic.
Rural or urban, Alaskans tend to be individualistic, following few outside trends and, instead, adhering to what their harsh environment dictates. Mother Nature and those -30°F (-34.4°C) winter days are responsible for the Alaskan dress code, even in Anchorage’s finest restaurants. Alaskans also like to take care of things on their own, and many seek out spartan and tough living conditions. In the Bush, most homes feature a pile of old airplane parts, broken-down cars and construction materials in the front yard – you never know when a hard-to-find part may come in handy.
With that said, American visitors will find that most of the locals they meet in towns and cities have lifestyles similar to their own. They work, they love their weekends, they live in a variety of homes big and small, and they participate in double-coupon days at supermarkets. They may well have a hunting or fishing camp set up in an isolated area, but this is a place of retreat, as opposed to a place of residence.
Still, it is difficult to overstate the gap between urban and rural Alaska. In the deep Bush and Interior, communities are often entirely cut off from overland infrastructure, including groceries, and have limited (if any) access to law enforcement, medical care and public education. In indigenous communities, English may be a second language. The logistics of governing and managing a state of both concentrated urban areas and such extreme far-flung localities are akin to the challenges facing developing world economies.
Even in remote villages, satellite-TV dishes and internet access provide connections to the rest of the world, which can both reduce or exacerbate a feeling of isolation. Internet access can make it easier to take online classes or remotely fill out employment or college applications, but it can also yield tragic consequences. In 2017, for example, a 16-year-old indigenous hunter from Gambell Island brought down a bowhead whale – a source of enormous respect and honor in a village where a whale is often the main source of winter protein in a sustenance diet. The hunter posted pictures of his kill online and was then inundated with social-media hate messages from animal-rights activists, including death threats. He suffered through subsequent depression, although the local indigenous community rallied around him.
Alaska has social ills, exacerbated in large measure by the environment. The isolation of small towns and the darkness of winter have contributed to Alaska being one of the top 10 states for binge and heavy drinking, and depending on the year, fifth or sixth overall for the amount of alcohol sold per capita. Since the 1980s, Alaska has seen some of the highest per-capita use of controlled drugs in the country, and its suicide rate is twice the national average. Alcohol abuse and suicide rates are higher for Alaska Natives than other populations. In rural areas, methamphetamine abuse is becoming widespread.
To survive this climate and to avoid such demons, you have to possess a passion for the land and an individualistic approach to a lifestyle that few, other than Alaskans, would choose.
Alaska has a role in the collective imagination as a mysterious, often frozen, dramatically scenic land. Not surprisingly, the state’s portrayal in popular media often reflects this idea.
Two of the best-known writers identified with Alaska were not native to the land nor did they spend much time there, but Jack London and Robert Service turned their Alaskan adventures into literary careers.
The first print run of Jack London’s Call of the Wild – 10,000 books – sold out in 24 hours. London, an American, departed for the Klondike Gold Rush in 1897, hoping to get rich panning gold. Instead he produced 50 books of fiction and nonfiction in just 17 years, and became the country’s highest-paid writer of the day.
Service, a Canadian bank teller, was transferred to Dawson City in 1902 and then wrote his first book of verse, The Spell of the Yukon. The work was an immediate success and contained his best-known ballads, ‘The Shooting of Dan McGrew’ and ‘The Cremation of Sam McGee.’ Both portray the hardship and violence of life during the gold rush.
Alaska’s contemporary luminaries of literature are no less elegant in capturing the spirit of the Far North. Kotzebue author Seth Kantner followed his critically acclaimed first novel, Ordinary Wolves, with the equally intriguing Shopping for Porcupine, a series of short stories about growing up in the Alaska wilderness. The Raven’s Gift by Don Rearden is a harrowing tale of village isolation and tundra survival, while The Snow Child is a standout debut from Pulitzer Prize–finalist Eowyn Ivey. One of the best Alaska Native novels is Two Old Women by Velma Wallis, an Athabascan born in Fort Yukon. This moving tale covers the saga of two elderly women abandoned by their migrating tribe during a harsh winter.
Other Alaskans who have captured the soul of the Far North include Nick Jans, whose The Last Light Breaking is considered a classic on life among the Iñupiat, and Sherry Simpson, who chronicles living in Fairbanks in the series of wonderful stories, The Way Winter Comes. For entertaining fiction using Alaska’s commercial fishing as a stage, there’s Bill McCloskey, whose three novels have characters ranging from the greenhorn fisherman to the hard-nosed cannery manager, with the plotline leaping from one to the next. His first, Highliners, is still his best.
Small cabins and long winter nights filled with sinister thoughts have also given rise to Alaska’s share of mystery writers. Dean of the Alaskan whodunit is New York Times best-seller Dana Stabenow, whose ex-DA investigator Kate Shugak has appeared in around 20 novels, some of which are free as e-books. Sue Henry is equally prolific, with musher-turned-crime-solver Jessie Arnold in novels such as Murder on the Iditarod Trail and Cold Company.
Alaska is also popular ground for nonfiction. Jon Krakauer’s Into the Wild explores the lost journeyer Christopher McCandless and humanity’s desire to seek isolation and connection with the earth. John McPhee’s 1991 classic Coming into the Country explores the explosive personalities of Alaska’s fringe.
The Iditarod is one of the most iconic races in the world, and dog mushing is one of Alaska’s most beloved pastimes. Supporters say sled dogs are born and bred to run, and if you’ve ever been tethered to a team flying across the frozen tundra, you’d probably agree. But a growing number of opponents say races like the Iditarod are cruel. Numerous reports of underfed, beaten and culled sled dogs at operations in Canada, Colorado and Alaska beg the question: should you support a race that has seen the death of 140-plus dogs since 1973? Should you even take a tourist trip on a dogsled?
People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) is opposed to dogsledding, while other groups like the Sled Dog Action Coalition and US Humane Society support recreational mushing as long as cruel practices (like beating dogs) do not occur. One issue is that winning times are dropping – from 20 days in 1973 to around 10 today – putting greater stress on the dogs, who suffer from ulcers, bruised and lacerated paws, and damaged lungs. On the Iditarod, about one or two dogs die each year (four died in 2017, but none died from 2010 to 2012), and around one third end up dropping out of the race.
There’s also the questionable practice of culling, where hundreds of substandard dogs are either given away or euthanized by their owners to ensure faster pedigrees. Race supporters cite new standards put in place to ensure the safety of dogs, including veterinarian checkups, mandatory breaks and drug tests.
Defenders of the Iditarod point out that as animal-abuse issues go, dog mushing is high profile and low impact, and even allowing for a per-capita comparison, far more dogs die in shelters than in the race. They argue that sled dogs have been bred to run, and are happiest running, and depressed when not allowed to pull a sled. It is said that the cold of the race is an environment the dogs desire; dog teams from the far northern Arctic can actually have issues racing because the route to Nome is too warm for them.
It is difficult to overstate the cultural impact of the race. As a test of animal-human companionship, individual endurance, and human will against the harsh environment, the Iditarod represents and exalts a set of values that are held sacred by many Alaskans. In some ways, the question of if these values should be honored – or if they can be honored in another fashion – is at the heart of the heated debate over the race.
Hollywood and Alaska occasionally mix, especially in Hyder. This tiny, isolated town (population 83) has been the setting for numerous films, such as Insomnia (2002), in which Al Pacino plays a cop sent to a small Alaskan town to investigate a killer played by Robin Williams. There’s also Bear Island (1978), loaded with stars, and Ice Man (1984), about scientists who find a frozen prehistoric man and bring him back to life. The 2007 movie Into the Wild featured many Alaska locations, including Anchorage, Healy, Denali National Park, Cantwell and the Copper River. Recent Hollywood tax breaks have also led to more films being shot in the 49th state.
A state with an entire season of nighttime has no shortage of noir and horror, and 30 Days of Night (2007), about vampires devouring a town during the sunless winter, is an excellent example of the genre.
Alaska has also been the backdrop for TV, including the Emmy Award–winning series Northern Exposure, but reality TV is where it’s hit the mother lode. The Discovery Channel has basically staked its lineup on Alaska, with shows like Alaskan Bush People and the ever-popular crab-fight-fest, Deadliest Catch. Everywhere in-between you have spin-offs about gold mining, ice-trucking, survival and logging.
Alaskan composer John Luther Adams won a Pulitzer Prize for Music in 2014 for his Become Ocean composition, which is inspired by the waterways and rhythms of Alaska. Singer-songwriter Jewel was raised in Homer and got her start playing local bars with her father. Hip-hop has become the preferred sonic expression for many Alaska Natives; if you get a chance, check out Samuel Johns, an Athabascan rapper who hails from Anchorage.