Nowhere else is gas stations more rare like little glimmers on the map than in the Arctic region. In fact, the further up you go, the more of a rarity it becomes. For this reason alone, you should fill your tank whenever you can, even if it feels early – even if it seems unnecessary. The distance from one station to the next is often measured in hours rather than in miles when you’re up North; and a half-empty gauge is not the kind of anxiety you want out in any expanse, much less one where temperatures easily dip below 0°C on a good day.

If your journey covers remote stretches and you’re not particularly confident about placing gas stations along the way; consider carrying a small reserve of fuel. Even a modest backup will allow you the time and space to reassess your route and navigate unexpected detours.

2. don’t rely on mainstream map apps.

The roads which form all the routes you want to take are always there… and yet, trusting technology is a luxury the Arctic does not allow.

Signals get covered with ice, roads vanish beneath snow; even trustworthy apps like Waze or Google Maps will work until they don’t. Believe it or not, here, it is not uncommon for extremely reliable and renowned map apps to recommend roads that are recently closed, impassable, or covered in snow – and it is often not for anything but the fact that they are just simply not made to be time- nor region-sensitive to the tee.

Here, your basic navigation tools are the ones that encourage pre-drive planning (such as offline, downloaded, or even paper maps);

The Arctic can really make you feel like the world has paused for you; and it can be immensely tempting to simply just pull over wherever the view strikes, especially when it always feels like hardly anyone else is ever around anyway. Should you get out of the car and take a quick snap? A lot of the time, the answer can feel like an emphatic yes.

Don’t.

Arctic winter roads often have excruciatingly low visibility; and you must never assume that other drivers can see you just because your car is stationary and largely reflective. Heavy fog and blowing snow can sometimes mean even a stopped vehicle appears in view only at the last moment. And just in case you think this is getting a little too pedantic, you’d be surprised to learn that local authorities in Iceland, Norway, and Finland have all explicitly advised against random and abrupt photo stops. Even locals on travel forums have described this specific tourist behavior as being dangerous for them, effectively forcing them to undertake last-second maneuvers because stationary vehicles – no matter how sizeable or reflective – are often invisible until the last moment.

If you must, seek out official parking areas, designated viewpoints, or wide lay‑bys. Do not stop at bus stops, bends, or even road shoulders unless you have a very good reason to.

I hate to say this, but as an Asian, I will be remiss not to mention this personally (very) painful observation that I made within the broader context of Arctic driving when I was up North: and that is a lot of us just do not seem to know the headlight etiquette that is common knowledge for those who have experience driving in winter.

I am not saying this to stereotype – and if the links I provided at the start of this post still aren’t enough – know that “Asians are bad drivers” is a notoriously well-circulated fact up there; and it is a substantiated observation that has struck me rather uncomfortably plenty of times while I was on the road. I see us switching to high-beam in fog or heavy blowing snow; then I see us failing to dip said high-beam when there is an oncoming car. And among all the other cardinal sins we are guilty of up north, this is perhaps one of the most fatal, because high beams scatter light in every direction when it refracts off things like snow, frost, and especially fogs; and this leaves not just you, but also oncoming cars, blind for as long as you leave them up.

I know it feels counter-intuitive, but low beams, angled downward, actually cut through the snow and reduce backscatter better. For most part, we were trained for temperate, well-lit, and predictable conditions; and that is not built in harmony with the contours of this region at all. You almost have to forget everything you know, and be extra heightened to all the conveniences we take for granted back home.

It is not hyperbolic to suggest that visibility, in the Arctic, is a form of self-preservation. A huge percentage of road accidents up here are not because of speed or even recklessness, but because someone or something was just simply, not seen soon enough.

Clip reflectors onto jackets, bags, or even hats. And if you have kids, a vest is absolutely necessary. Everything about these little utilitarian objects is cringe and unglamorous, you don’t have to tell me twice; but, sometimes, I personally cannot help but feel more attached to my life than fashion ideals.

(And no0000oooo, for goodness sake, they do not interfere with the Northern Lights.)

When we stepped off the van that brought us to see the Northern Lights, the air was bracingly cold. We were surrounded by forest, gentle drifts of snow, and a rare and delicious quiet; and just about an hour later as we were packing to leave, a van that had arrived slightly after us was already struggling to get one of their wheels out from being trapped in compacted snow.

Yes, one hour was all Mother Nature needed.

But these things are surprisingly common. In fact, it is rarely dramatic (just inconvenient) and a small shovel will set things straight in minutes.

Without one, however, this small inconvenience can (and most probably will) stretch into a cold, frustrating delay – and do not even think about flooring the accelerator, because every attempt to move the wheel will only sink you deeper into the compacted snow that rests below your vehicle.

Literally the one thing that solves this most efficiently and practically is a simple basic shovel: just dig around the tyre, clear the compacted snow, and you’re good to go.

And if it just so happens that you choose to travel on the roads without one and find yourself in a similar bind, once again, don’t mash the gas. You’re gonna want to clear the snow around the tyre; and unfortunately because you chose not to have a shovel, you’re gonna have to do it with your bare hands.

All you’ll need to know about snow ridges is that they are essentially small mounds of snow not obvious until we actually drive over them; and the reason they are often referred to as being “hidden” is because, to our human eye, the roads typically look deceptively flat and uniform when in fact, there are raised sections of snow scattered everywhere that can really jolt your vehicle and cause you to lose balance. Think of it as a reverse pothole – except in this case, you often really don’t see it until after you have driven over it.

Locals have learnt to anticipate ridges instinctively; but even then, hitting a hidden snow ridge still happens to them from time to time. Naturally, this suggests that us tourist drivers basically don’t stand a chance; and therefore, should never trust that a smooth-looking road equals a forgiving road.

Always be scanning the road ahead, constantly. Look for subtle differences in texture and shadows – or even glints in the snow (these often signal ridges); and should you hit one, refrain from sudden correction and just let your vehicle roll over the ridge (hard braking or swerving on icy roads will cause an even greater loss of control).

Lastly, as a tip that can be followed just about anywhere in the world and quadruply more so in these unique conditions: learn to identify local drivers and follow their tail. Locals often take safer paths, drive at safer speeds, and do not blindly trust their line; and you’ll usually be much safer being part of their convoy.

Driving or not, one of the first mistakes anyone makes up here is forgetting that you don’t have as much light as you think you do.

You plan to head out at 8am and return by 5pm; without realising that deep into the recesses of winter, both these timings are enveloped in total darkness. And then what you thought you would have (daylight), turns out to be zero visibility for most part.

If you are headed towards this region at the end of the year, you’d probably also want to check if your dates overlap with the polar night season, which typically lasts between fifty to ninety-ish days in Scandinavia. During this time, expect light only around ten in the morning, and darkness by three in the afternoon.

(This picture you see on the left was taken a little after 1pm in the afternoon – and no, that is not the Sun. It is the moon.)

You know you’re in the Arctic when you see a reindeer or a moose just casually strolling down the side of a road.

It is all very quaint and adorable in concept, but the complication is that animals have very little regard for painted lines or vehicles; and especially at quiet stretches, crossings are frequent and unpredictable and alot of the time they quite literally pop out of nowhere.

This is extremely disorienting particularly to those of us who aren’t quite used to sharing the road with random animals; and the safest way to circumvent this is to never speed and always slow down when the signs tell you to, even as you’re itching to step on it just because it feels ‘quiet’.

Also, always look ahead – and I don’t just mean the road. Watch the tree lines, field edges, ditches, fence gaps, whatever is at the side, because that is the “nowhere” that animals usually pop out of. A good rule of thumb is to always drive like you have to brake within the next twenty to thirty seconds, and then not go over that speed too much.

Lastly, if for any reason a collision becomes unavoidable, never swerve abruptly because icy roads do not forgive sudden movements. If it is unavoidable, it is unavoidable; so just brake hard in a straight line. I can’t say the same for the animal, but there will definitely be less damage done to you this way.

Now since the chat has moved on to braking…

It’s probably also worth knowing that when it comes to these insidious roads, braking is not what you know back home. Braking here takes two, three, sometimes even four times the distance you are used to. So take this as your sign to always brake gently and always brake early at every intersection, curve, and/or unexpected obstacle.

It is not glamorous – and it won’t make for a perfect Instagram moment – but it works.

I’m talking about sand, gravel, traction mats, portable tire chains (or even kitty litter); and many of these you can easily get from one them larger supermarkets especially during winter season.

And before you think this makes you look unsound, your concerns will be assuaged by the knowledge that locals stock them in the car almost as reflexively as a spare tire (or the aforementioned shovel), because they literally make the difference between moving ahead effortlessly, and digging and slipping endlessly.

Don’t worry if you choose to sit this one out though, I’m sure it’d make for a hilarious Youtube montage as soon as someone catches sight.

It’s that thin, treacherous layer of ice that sits right on top of the road and blends seamlessly with it; and it’s black not because it is literally black, but because it is transparent. And therefore, all you see is the black of the asphalt without realising the stretch is actually completely covered in ice.

If you’ve gotten this far down the post, you’d probably be able to figure out on your own by now, how that in itself is forty kinds of fatal. As such, I will skip the naggy detailing of it all and instead, tell you the key to dealing with black ice: and that is to assume it is everywhere.

At the risk of repeating myself, the to-dos are awfully identical to everything that has been said thus far: Drive slower than you have to. Avoid sudden braking or swerves. And always leave extra distance between you and the vehicle in front of you. In all cases, you can look for telltale signs by keeping your eyes peeled for glossy patches, reflections in headlights, or even slight changes in the texture of the snow.

It’s all very visually fascinating for the passenger… but for the driver, black ice is a major red flag that you’d want to treat with extreme caution and extra respect. This is a highly fatal, highly invisible hazard. Not to get all morbid right at the end or anything but, all things considered, disregarding black ice as a ‘thing’ is one mistake you rarely get a second chance to correct*.