Gates of the Arctic Is the Most Peaceful U.S. National Park — How to Visit

“What number is this for you?” a man asked the couple waiting in the cramped office, his casual tone laced with curiosity.

“56,” the woman replied, her voice steady, confident.

“And you?”

“We’re at 59,” the man said with a nod as if passing an unspoken baton.

They didn’t turn to me or the other solo traveler pacing near the doorway. They didn’t need to. We all understood the language. These numbers weren’t random; they were a measure of something bigger — a quiet badge of honor among national park chasers.

To most people, 56, 59, or even 63 wouldn’t mean a thing. But for those of us who’ve fallen in love with the challenge of visiting all the U.S. national parks, those numbers carry weight. They signify journeys taken, mountains climbed, and deserts crossed.

I glanced at the floor, trying to keep my excitement at bay. I was here to visit the last park on my list — all solo — and hit the magic number: 63.

There are more than 400 National Park Service sites in the U.S., but just 63 carry the title “national park.” They range from the Great Smoky Mountains — the most-visited park, which drew more than 13 million people in 2023 — to the stark solitude of Gates of the Arctic — the least-frequented on the list, with just 11,045 visitors in the same period.

It’s easy to see why Gates of the Arctic holds that distinction. Covering more than 8.4 million acres, all entirely above the Arctic Circle, there are no roads or trails — nothing to guide you but your determination. This park is not a place travelers stumble upon; it’s a place they must seek out.

While many visitors reach Gates of the Arctic through Fairbanks or Bettles — both short flights from Anchorage — I started my adventure in Kotzebue, a coastal town north of the Arctic Circle and another gateway to Alaska’s remote northern parks. After landing on a commercial flight from Anchorage, I walked the short distance to a short-term rental and awaited word from Golden Eagle Outfitters, the flight-seeing and air-taxi service that would take me into the Brooks Range.

Weather delays are common here, so there are no set flight times. There’s just a range of dates the outfitters recommend being in town, and they ask that you periodically check in until the weather is favorable. I spent the first day exploring the quiet streets of Kotzebue and learning about traditional Iñupiaq culture at the Northwest Arctic Heritage Center. Finally, the text came: The skies had cleared. It was time to go.

At the hangar, I joined five other travelers and our pilot for the flight into the wilderness. Bush planes are the lifeline of the Arctic, and as we took off, I couldn’t help but marvel as the landscape beneath us appeared like a living map — clear, bright blue rivers snaking through valleys, jagged peaks surrounding us, and tundra showing the vibrant first hues of autumn.

When the plane touched down on a gravel bar near the Ambler River — one of six designated wild rivers in the park — the silence was almost overwhelming: just the faint sound of water beside me and the crunch of rocks under my hiking boots.

I was here for a day trip, an experience that cost $1,750 — a steep price, but one that was worth every penny as I stepped into a world so untouched, it felt sacred. For those with the time and resources, multiday guided trips offer deeper exploration through hiking, rafting, fishing, and backpacking.

I walked along the river. The water was so clear and blue that I could see every pebble on the riverbed, and I couldn’t help but cry. Thinking of the journey that brought me here — the 63rd national park I’d visited solo — I felt at peace.

Gates of the Arctic isn’t just a place on a park checklist; it’s a reminder of how fragile and rare untouched wilderness is. The journey here stripped away modern life’s noise, distractions, and conveniences, leaving me with nothing but the raw beauty of the wild — and myself.

I didn’t just reach my final park goal in the stillness of Gates of the Arctic; I found a version of myself I hadn’t seen in a long time.

Where to Stay

There are no designated campsites or lodging within the park. Still, backcountry camping and backpacking are options for very experienced travelers or those on a trip with a guided outfitter.

On a day trip, most visitors will fly into the park from the gateway cities. Fairbanks is the largest and offers the most options, but it is also further from the park. Travelers can also find hotels, wilderness lodges, and bed-and-breakfasts in Coldfoot, Bettles, and Kotzebue.

How to Get There

There are no roads or trails into the park, but visitors can fly on chartered bush planes from multiple gateways, the most popular being from Fairbanks, Bettles, Coldfoot, or Kotzebue. Very experienced and prepared travelers can also opt to hike five miles from the gravel Dalton Highway to the park near Coldfoot.

Best Time to Visit

Most travelers will want to visit between July and mid-August, when days are long, the snow has melted, and temperatures are warmer. Mid-August to mid-September will bring fall colors, cooler temperatures, and more flight availability.