After days of driving, endless highways, and countless moments of awe, we finally reached the Canada-Alaska border. For me, it wasn’t just another milestone on the map. It felt like the culmination of everything the journey had been leading up to. My dad and I pulled over, parked the van, and stepped out to take it all in. That moment—standing there with one foot in Canada and the other in Alaska—became one of my favorite memories of the entire trip.
The drive to get there wasn’t easy. The long stretches of road tested us both physically and mentally. We’d spent hours navigating highways framed by towering mountains, forests that seemed endless, and occasional wildlife crossings that brought the van to a halt. Often resulting in me jumping out of the van with my camera, trying to take photos of the bears, moose, or birds. The beauty was overwhelming, but so was the scale of it all. Each mile reminded me of just how far we had come—and how far we still had to go.
One of the things about driving to Alaska is how much time you spend reflecting. There’s something about the endless stretches of wilderness, the quiet hum of the road, and the absence of distractions that make you turn inward. For my dad and me, those hours of driving were about catching up on years of conversations we’d never had. Growing up, we didn’t have a lot of time to spend together. He worked long hours to provide for the family, and while I’ve always appreciated that, it meant we missed out on moments like this. This trip gave us the time and space to reconnect in ways that felt both overdue and deeply meaningful.
When we arrived at the border, it was quiet. No traffic, no other travelers, just us and the line separating two countries. There was something surreal about being there. The air was cool and crisp, carrying a sense of anticipation and accomplishment. My dad grinned as he stepped onto the imaginary line, positioning himself with one leg in Canada and the other in Alaska. “Look at me,” he joked. “I’m in two places at once!”
We laughed, but it was more than a joke. That moment captured the joy and simplicity of the trip. It wasn’t about grand gestures or extravagant destinations. It was about these quiet milestones, shared with someone you care about, that turn an ordinary day into something extraordinary. For my dad, it was pure fun. For me, it was a moment to soak in how far we’d come—not just in distance, but in everything this journey represented.
We stood there for what felt like ages, even though it was probably only ten minutes. The “Welcome to Alaska” sign felt like more than just a marker; it was a symbol of how far we’d come. For me, it was the first time Alaska felt real. Up until that point, it had been an idea, a destination I’d read about or seen in photos. But standing there, on the edge of it, made it tangible. This wasn’t just a place on a map. It was something we had earned by driving every mile to get there.
The border itself was striking in its simplicity. There were no grand monuments or bustling checkpoints. Just the quiet stillness of the wilderness around us. It made me think about how much of this trip had been about embracing the in-between. The moments on the road—seeing a moose by the side of the highway, stopping to fix our makeshift bug nets, or sharing snacks at a random pullout—had been just as impactful as the major stops we planned.
I’ll never forget the way my dad’s face lit up as he joked about being in two places at once. It was one of those moments where everything feels lighter, where the weight of the miles disappears, and you’re just there, fully present. It’s funny how the small moments stick with you the most. They aren’t flashy or dramatic, but they capture the essence of the journey.
As we stood there, I thought about all the miles ahead. Reaching the border wasn’t the end—it was just the beginning of exploring Alaska. But that moment gave me the energy to keep going. It was a reminder of why we’d chosen to drive instead of fly: to experience the journey, to connect with the places we passed through, and to share these quiet, powerful moments together.
That moment at the border wasn’t flashy or dramatic, but it was perfect. It captured everything the trip was about: the journey, the connection, and the joy of being present. It’s funny how something so small can stick with you, but that’s what makes it special. Standing there with my dad, sharing that quiet milestone, is a memory I’ll carry with me forever.