Stephen Birdsall | Dave Thompson | Mount Aurora Fairbanks Creek Lodge | King

THE NEXT EVENING, I transfer to the Mount Aurora Fairbanks Creek Lodge, another popular destination for viewing the northern lights. Over a fabulous dinner of gigantic Alaskan king crab (the best I've ever had) and cedar-plank baked salmon, co-owner Stephen Birdsall gets me all worked up about the lights (he has installed low-level red lights around the property to help guests' eyes adjust to night vision). "The lights will make the hairs stand up on the back of your neck," he tells me. "When they start moving, you'll feel like they are coming down to get you." Birdsall's property boasts 270-degree views of the open sky, so I'm feeling pretty confident that tonight's the night.

Wrong. I set my alarm for one a.m. and hop outside to the viewing deck. Same thing: There are faint patches of green, but nothing like the intense photos around town. I wait around in the cold for about 45 minutes but give up before my toes begin to fall off. Can't anyone around here think of a warmer way to wait for the lights? At any rate, I'm beginning to believe they are a Photoshop creation.

I SPENT MY FINAL NIGHT at a wonderful log cabin bed-and-breakfast called Grand View (the view, of course, refers to the lights). This gorgeous spruce home is owned by American Dave Thompson and his lovely Irish wife, Clodagh, who had enough sense to put in a Jacuzzi on their outdoor deck overlooking the expansive Tanana Valley. Now that's what I'm talking about. Once again I set my alarm for one a.m., and I fall asleep in my bathing suit with Christmas-morning-like anticipation - surely the third time must be the charm.

Nope. Thanks for playing. It turns out to be the cloudiest night of the trip. The next morning, I express my newest hypothesis, which I cleverly title the "Adobe Photoshop Northern Lights Conspiracy," to my host from the Fairbanks Convention and Visitors Bureau. I'm clearly bummed about the lights, and in an effort to lift my spirits, he asks me if I've ever driven a car across a frozen river. I most certainly have not, I tell him.