I visited Alaska in the winter. Here are 5 things I'm glad I packed and 2 I regretted leaving behind.

In March, I visited Alaska to attend the start of the Iditarod, the annual Alaskan dog-sled race that runs roughly 1,000 miles from Anchorage to Nome.

I was determined to not check a bag on my flight to Anchorage, but I also knew the cold and wet adventure would require lots of layers. So I had to get pretty creative and picky with my game of suitcase Tetris.

After spending seven days in and around Anchorage in the winter, here are five things I'm glad I packed — plus two I immediately regretted leaving behind.

Alaska in early March was unsurprisingly cold.

I had vacuum-sealable bags from a previous cross-country move, and they excellently condensed my thick and bulky layers to fit in my small carry-on suitcase.

I packed a cozy sweater for each day of our trip but often had to double up to handle the chill. I also donned a puffy vest, a big scarf, and a long winter coat.

I almost always wore fleece leggings, then choose flannel-lined jeans or chunky sweatpants to go on top depending on our planned outing.

Somehow, I was still very cold, so I made a day of going to the Hoarding Marmot in downtown Anchorage to stock up on extra gently-used layers. A very sweet store dog kept me company while I shopped.

Knowing we'd want to splurge on adventures like flight-seeing, my travel companions and I planned to only eat out once per day.

So the night before our flight, we stocked up on nonperishable essentials like mac and cheese, peanut butter, and precooked bacon, among others.

Canned tuna turned out to be the unexpected MVP.

We brought homemade tuna sandwiches to the official start of the Iditarod and nestled them in the snow along the racetrack to keep them chilled. It was a perfect outdoor snack — plus a fun excuse to build our own cooler.

I was very glad I packed my Yaktrax traction cleats to traverse the thick layers of ice.

My host told me to pack them, mentioning that the sidewalks near her house downtown were lined with ice.

Although I never wholly doubted her recommendation, the former ice skater in me scoffed. Any of my lingering doubts immediately vanished after my first walk downtown.

As fun as it was to waddle like a tall penguin down a slippery sidewalk, I was grateful to have my traction cleats in my backpack to pop on before I took a tumble.

I had hoped that my "waterproof" hiking boots would suffice, but the cold, wet elements seeped between their seams.

So I was grateful to have also packed waterproof socks that kept my feet plenty dry – if still chilly – during our big day at the Iditarod, the 13th snowiest day on record in Anchorage.

Next time, I'd just pack extra shoes. My host offered me a fresh pair of dry boots after a long day of walking in the snow and slush, and I literally breathed a sigh of relief.

I had tucked several books between my many sweaters, assuming we'd have lots of downtime during the long Alaskan nights.

They mainly came in handy in the mornings. Because of the time difference, our internal clocks woke us up earlier than expected.

Books were also a fun way to casually learn more about Alaska. My main biblio companion — Jon Mooallem's "This Is Chance!" — detailed the most powerful earthquake in US history that struck nearby Anchorage in 1964 and how radio announcer Genie Chance helped the town through the disaster.

I also enjoyed browsing through Title Waves Books in downtown Anchorage to find a new read for the flight home.

One of the biggest packing mistakes I made was not bringing sunglasses.

I had wrongly assumed that Anchorage in early March would be overcast and cloudy during the day. But the sun was out most of the time, and the light bounced off the snow and seemed even brighter.

About halfway through the trip, I borrowed sunglasses from my host. This was a game-changer, especially during the flight-seeing trip — the glow of the sun on the Denali peaks would've otherwise been hard to look at.

There were many stunning scenes that I wanted to document, but unfortunately, my phone and DSLR cameras couldn't capture the landscape's size, proportions, and details.

Our photos didn't catch how snugly the mountains hugged the dog-sled track we rode on or how the Denali peaks gradually rose above the horizon.

We wished we had packed a long DSLR lens to better encompass the scenery.