Northern lights forecast tonight in the United States

A working village of a dozen or so people 18 km north up the Dalton Highway, at 67.4°N and under the auroral oval. No street lighting at all, and the Koyukuk valley keeps the northern skyline low.

Seven kilometres north of Coldfoot, a Bureau of Land Management campground sits at Mile 180 of the Dalton Highway with a cleared gravel loop and a wide gap in the spruce to the north. Coldfoot's few lights stay behind the trees from here.

The gravel apron outside the visitor centre is a two-minute walk from the truck stop, with the Dalton Highway corridor open to the north. At 67.25°N you are already inside the auroral oval, so driving further buys very little.

An open former dairy field on the north edge of town with an unobstructed northern horizon, and the only spot here you can reach without a car. It sits at the edge of the city's light dome, so it rewards a moderate or strong display rather than a faint one.

At 680 m on the Steese Highway, high above the valley cold pool and well outside the city light, with open views over the Tanana Valley. Use the free public pullout between mileposts 20 and 21 — the lodges at the summit are private and charge.

The highest point near Fairbanks at 877 m, with a full 360° horizon and no town light in any direction. The last few miles are gravel; four-wheel drive is the sensible choice in midwinter.

Mile 15 of the Denali Park Road, at 800 m where the spruce gives out and the tundra leaves the northern horizon clear. Private vehicles reach it from late April until the first snow, which covers the August and September end of aurora season.

A rest area and trailhead at Mile 13, 830 m up, with open ground on every side and no town glow anywhere on the northern horizon. The road is usually plowed this far from about 15 February, which reopens it for late-winter aurora.

The Chugach State Park trailhead lot sits at 671 m above the Anchorage Bowl, reached by O'Malley Road off the Seward Highway. You look down on the city glow rather than through it, with the northern sky open past Knik Arm.

West of downtown, a bluff about 37 m above Knik Arm puts water and the Alaska Range across the northern half of the sky. The airport is next door, and its lights cost you the faintest displays.

A fishing access off the Old Glenn Highway where the Knik River valley opens north with no mountains in the way. Far enough from Anchorage that the glow is a low band behind you rather than overhead.

Tidal flats at the mouth of the Eagle River, 35 km up the Glacier Highway, with Lynn Canal open to the north-west. About the clearest low northern horizon within reach of town, though rainforest cloud closes it most nights.

A wooded point in the Auke Village Recreation Area with Favorite Channel open to the north and west. Juneau's lights are twenty kilometres away to the south-east, which matters at 58°N where the aurora usually sits low.

Skater's Cabin Road runs to a parking area on the lake shore, with the glacier and the Mendenhall Towers across the water. The peaks stand high in the north, so this rewards an overhead display more than a horizon arc.

City-owned reserve land on East Skyline Parkway, high on the ridge behind Duluth. The city light dome sits below you to the south-west, and the ground falls away into unlit forest on the northern side.

A cobble shoreline park at the north-east end of the city where Lake Superior takes up the eastern and north-eastern sky at water level. Aurora here usually appears over the lake rather than due north, which is uphill and lit.

Thirty kilometres north of downtown, out beyond the ridge that holds Duluth's glow. The reservoir shore and the surrounding forest roads give a dark northern horizon that nowhere in the city itself can match.

West Seattle's storm-night gathering spot: the stretch of Beach Drive near 63rd and Alki has a clear shot north across the Sound and is about as dark as you can get without leaving the city. On the October 2024 night a local photographer put out an open invite on West Seattle Blog to meet there at 8:45 and people actually showed. To your eyes it's usually a gray-white smudge; point your phone at it and the color appears, so don't leave just because it looks faint.

The classic move is north, and Edmonds is the first place it pays off: the beach beside the ferry dock faces north up the Sound, and every good storm since 2023 has produced a round of waterfront photos in the local news, ferry in the foreground. About 25 minutes up I-5 from downtown when traffic cooperates. If the last Kingston boat is still running you'll share the beach with its headlights, which honestly makes the better photo.

The real dark-sky trip: about 90 minutes north past the Skagit flats, with open water views and almost no glow on the northern horizon. It gets named on storm-alert nights by Seattle radio, and on the May 2024 night people were shooting at Pass Lake and West Beach while Anacortes lit up pink. You need a Discover Pass, and check where the gates close before you commit; the pullouts along Rosario Road work if the park lots are shut.

The highest point in the city proper, and where KOIN's own cameras went during the May 2024 storm. You are shooting over the downtown glow, so expect the color to show up on your phone screen before your eyes catch it — and the park closes at midnight, right when the show tends to peak. Drive up SW Council Crest Dr, or hike in on the Marquam Trail if the lot is full.

The old Chanticleer Point on the Historic Columbia River Highway above Corbett, with the same wide north-facing view down the gorge as Vista House but without the parking chaos. Take I-84 to exit 22 and climb the hill; bring a real coat, because the gorge's east wind does not quit at night. On a forecast storm half of Portland has the same idea, so get there before dark.

About 45 minutes west on US 26 toward Vernonia, then up OR 47 past Buxton — the hilltop day-use area lets you park next to your view, flush toilets and all. This is where OMSI and the Rose City Astronomers hold their star parties, dark enough for the Milky Way with open sky to the north. Kill your headlights the moment you park; everyone up there is dark-adapted.