Here's the tundra to prove authenticity:
After what seemed like a few minutes of sleep, we awoke and proceeded through the most northern border crossing of the USA. It was especially exciting for young Heather, who had never before experienced all that is America ie: log cabin border crossings with antlers and pylons for additional security.
Our first stop was the Alaska state sign, for a quick action shot. Vern patiently watched the whole thing from the vehicle.
We then proceeded into the fine metropolis of Chicken, Alaska for souvenirs, a taste of the salty local culture, and some passport stamps from the post office! After spending an hour with the locals it seemed very fitting the town, which was originally to be named ptarmigan, was officially called Chicken, a much easier word to spell.