The long road to Alaska, a story of letting go and discovering - Denali

The nature in Denali is both grand and subtle. We drove through taiga forests full of willows and aquatic plants – the perfect habitat for moose. These animals are the largest in the deer family and lead solitary lives. The females usually have two calves, which stay with them for up to two years. Although they seem gentle, they can be aggressive when protecting their young.

Further on, we spotted Dall sheep high up on the mountain slopes near the Teklanika River. They appeared as small white dots in the landscape but could be identified as ewes with lambs with the help of binoculars. The rams live separately in the summer, only coming together when the snow falls — sometimes as early as late August. The sheep then descend to lower altitudes in search of food.

Then there are the grizzly bears. In Denali, they are smaller than their coastal relatives because they do not eat salmon. Their diet consists of 80% grass, berries and roots, supplemented with small animals such as squirrels, young moose or caribou. The bears we saw had thick, light-coloured fur, which is well-adapted to the cold mountain climate. At Sable Pass, there was a warning sign for bears with bite marks in it. It was as if the bears themselves wanted to say, 'We are here'.

We saw a mother bear with three cubs walking calmly along the road. A little later, at Polychrome Pass, the bus fell silent. The views were spectacular, but the precipice beside us was terrifying. As we approached Wonder Lake, we were lucky again when another mother bear and her three cubs slowly crossed the road in front of us. No one spoke. We watched. And listened.

Denali – The Great One, the Unpredictable One

And, of course, there is the mountain itself: Denali, known as 'The Great One' by the Athabascans. It is still officially called Mount McKinley, after an American president from Ohio, but the people of Alaska have been campaigning to restore the original name for years. Until 2015, a senator from Ohio blocked the proposal in the American Senate every year. Then, in 2015, President Obama changed the name to Denali in honour of the indigenous name. However, since January 2025, the federal name has been changed back to Mount McKinley by decree of President Trump. This illustrates how deeply names can take root, even if they do not originate here.

At 6,194 metres, Denali is the highest mountain in North America. It has two peaks, with the southern one being the highest. Its impressive vertical relief of 5,500 metres from base to summit is greater than that of Mount Everest. Yet Denali is not technically an extremely difficult mountain to climb. It is the weather conditions that make it challenging. The mountain creates its own climate. While it may be sunny in the valley, there could be a snowstorm raging above. Only half of the climbers reach the summit. There are casualties every year – this season, a Japanese mountaineer lost his life.

On a clear day, Denali is a monument of snow and stone. Around 75% of its surface is covered in snow, even in summer. At Wonder Lake, we saw its reflection in the water – a sight that leaves you speechless. We took photos, but we knew that this moment could not be captured in pixels. It is an experience. It is an encounter with something greater than yourself.

Wonder Lake is often called the crown jewel of Denali, and rightly so. This vast lake lies like a mirror in the heart of the park. On a clear day, its calm waters reflect the mighty Mount McKinley – a breathtaking sight. All around, the landscape is unparalleled: endless tundra, jagged mountain ranges, and a horizon that seems to disappear into the sky. Here, you can truly appreciate the vastness and unspoilt beauty of Alaska.

Hiking in the wilderness – no path, but a ranger

The next day, we signed up for a guided hike with a ranger. There was no marked trail or signs – we were venturing straight into the wilderness. We set off at mile 57, with eleven participants and a guide who taught us how to look, listen and read tracks. We saw wolf prints and fresh moose tracks, as well as a spot where a bear had lain down. The ground was soggy, the vegetation was dense and the pace was slow. But it was real.

The ranger told us that although bears in Denali mainly eat plants, they are also opportunists. They follow hikers' paths, not out of curiosity, but because those routes are easier.

After this excursion, we decided to take the green bus deeper into the park. We got off at one of the stops, walked across pristine hills and admired the wildflowers, doing our best not to trample any of them. Suddenly, down in the valley, we spotted a grizzly bear about 300 metres away. There was no fence or barrier between us and the bear. It was a heart-pounding moment.

The rangers had warned us to make noise when we approached a hilltop because there could be a grizzly bear behind every bend. Although our daypacks were equipped with bear bells, we were still surprised and felt vulnerable. We sat down and watched the animal foraging quietly. It was a mixture of fascination and alertness – this was Alaska at its purest.

Time flew by, and suddenly we realised that the bus would not wait for us. We hurried back to the stop, only to see the bus approaching. The thought of spending the night in the wilderness with two children and bears nearby made my heart race. Thankfully, the driver stopped and waited for us to board. Sweat ran down my back as we sat safely on the bus, heading to the campground. That evening, we ate pasta, enjoyed a well-deserved beer, and fell asleep exhausted, grateful for a day that had brought us closer to experiencing the essence of Alaska.

Sled dogs and the rhythm of winter

In the afternoon, we visited the Denali sled dog kennels. These dogs are workers, not show animals. They are lean, muscular and focused. In winter, when the park is inaccessible to vehicles, they pull the rangers' sleds. Each dog has a specific role: leader, puller or stabiliser. They can carry an average of 50 pounds, and a team of ten dogs can pull up to 500 pounds.

The demonstration was simple yet impressive. The dogs were harnessed to a wheeled cart and, as soon as the starting signal sounded, they pulled with all their might. There was no hesitation or distraction – just work. We were allowed to pet them, and some came over curiously to sniff us. It was a different side of Denali, where the focus was not on the wild animals but on the working animals. Not the silence, but the rhythm.

A park that stays with you 

You can't understand Denali in a day. It is a landscape that forces you to slow down, to look and to listen. The animals are there, but you must earn the right to see them – through respect. The views are magnificent, but you must allow yourself to experience them – through humility. And the silence – it is everywhere, through being.

We left with the feeling that we had seen something that cannot be captured in a photograph. The gaze of a grizzly bear. The tracks of a moose in the mud. A mountainside full of sheep. And an awareness: the great outdoors is in charge here. And we, as travellers, are allowed to walk alongside it for a while.