Chasing the Aurora

So...how do you go about Aurora Borealis hunting?

       

Well, the first thing is to head north at the right time of year! The closer to the Arctic Circle the better. So I set off from Anchorage to Fairbanks, determined to see the Northern Lights whilst visiting the second largest city of Alaska in the process (40,000 people.) I knew that April marked the end of the Aurora season, but close to the Spring Equinox, there was still a good chance of seeing something.

                             

     

                               Stunning views travelling up through the Denali National Park

Then you need to check the weather, because if it is cloudy, there is absolutely no point in going out. Some of the weather Apps are pretty good at indicating cloud cover, but all forecasts have to be taken with a pinch of salt, particularly here in Alaska. 

                                     

Then you need to check out the Aurora Forecast. A meteorological website has current daily predictions based on the sunspot activity observed and monitored by astronomers and scientists. The site I used displays Aurora activity for the entire northern hemisphere and gives you the ability to choose which area of the planet you are looking from (see the 'Select a Map' section bottom left.)

                               

Aurora strength is then graded on a ten point scale from 0 - 9. Basically a forecast of 0-2 means do not bother going out - nothing is going to happen. Meanwhile a forecast of 3, 4 or 5 is judged as 'Active' and you should be able to see some green ribbons and shows of light. A prediction of 6 and above means there is a phenomenal amount of solar activity. This is officially classed as a 'storm' - and that is when you are going to see reds and oranges, blues and greens.

Therefore, if the two above factors coincide, a 'clear skies' weather prediction and a forecast of significant Auroral activity, then you need to be out.

So the next task is to find somewhere to view the spectacle. Somewhere which is away from any light pollution. A dark place, with an open skyline above and a chance to face predominantly northwards (though not exclusively.) And then it is just a waiting game.

                           

I drove 20 miles north, up to a place called Ski-land, high above Fairbanks and known locally as Cleary Summit. In April, the sun doesn't set here until nearly 10.00pm and you have to allow the dusky, twilight period to go before the sky becomes dark enough. I decided that 11.30pm was a good time to set off, so I could arrive at my chosen destination for midnight. 

My first attempt ended in freezing failure. I camped out, alone in the snow and icy cold night air and strained my eyes (and neck) looking up into the heavens. The few stars I could see gradually vanished under a blanket of cloud and at half past two in the morning I drove the half hour road back to my accommodation and a warm bed.

The next night I tried again, returning to the same location and once again I waited patiently, looking upwards and crossing my fingers. It was so cold that I kept jumping back into my car as a cold wind was blowing - and each time I got in, I stayed a little longer. Feeling increasingly glum, I happened to glance out of the rear window and I saw a ribbon of cloud which looked like a whitish smudge in the sky. I thought that it was a little weird as there were no other 'clouds' around so I got out of the car and looked at it. The more I looked at it, the more I thought that it was not simply a ribbon of cloud. It appeared to have a slight green tinge to it. I kept looking at it and I got my camera out and half heartedly pointed it upwards. Then, all of a sudden, the cloud changed. It suddenly became a green curtain of light which danced and moved above me. I nearly dropped my camera and I started to laugh. 

                               

   

I had read about Northern Lights 'dancing' and thought it was simply artistic and poetic licence, but actually it does dance. The display is constantly shifting and changing, pulsing and undulating. At one moment it is bright and fills the sky and at the next it diminishes into the distance. You can see it swirling and moving, brightening and fading. You can even begin to pick out secondary colours and hues at the edges of the lights. At times it was behind me, and then it would fade and reappear to the extreme right of me. 

Now my camera in no way did justice to what I was seeing. The ribbons were far stronger and the movement was balletic and rapid. I set my exposure time between 10 and 15 seconds, opened the aperture as much as possible (my lowest F setting was 3.2) and my ISO setting automatically went to 100 (when a higher number would have been better) in an attempt to capture enough light for every image. 

5 - 10 seconds could well have be long enough in hindsight, an ISO of 400 - 600 and a sturdy tripod would have really helped, but, due to my travelling luggage restraints and camera limitations, I had to make do with my small gorilla pod sat on the bonnet of my car, but it worked. Had I had a damn good tripod, I would have set my camera up and taken picture after picture, though with the cold, the constant checking of the image, the resetting of the camera and the occasional wobble of the tripod in the wind - I managed to capture just 8 northern light photographs. Then again, my pleasure came from watching them for an hour, despite the bitter cold.

All the Aurora photographic experts go and find a designated place in advance from which to take their pictures. Somewhere with an excellent foreground featuring a tree or a cabin. They then set up their camera(s) and snap away from the comfort of their vehicle using a remote control. 

                              

                                       Which is how they capture images like this one

I wish my images matched what I had witnessed. I went out on a third night, and tried a different location near to where I did my dog mushing. Yet again, I sat patiently and got progressively colder. Close to giving up, I drove back towards Fairbanks and stopped for one last chance and the Aurora promptly delivered and gave me an even more spectacular show which was far better than the previous night. Yet again fast moving dances of light moved across the heavens and clear secondary colours of orange and red began to tinge the green. I was alone, in the middle of nowhere, listening to an owl and the howling of a husky (or a wolf!), next to a fast flowing creek watching a majestic light show just for me. I will never forget seeing the Northern lights and I hope one day I am lucky enough to witness them again.