Alaska by Rail

Contents

Exploring Alaska by Rail
Arrival in Fairbanks
Fairbanks to Denali
Denali Park
Denali to Anchorage
Anchorage
Anchorage to Seward
Seward and Resurrection Bay
Trip Around the Kenai Peninsula
To Anchorage and Home
Reflections on Alaska

We have considered trips to Alaska for many years, but taking a cruise ship to get there did not appeal to us. We could fly to Alaska and rent a car, but the prospect of all the driving was not attractive either. Then we recalled a vacation three years ago, when we took a Road Scholar tour using a train to cross the Canadian Rockies. Sure enough, Road Scholar also offered a tour of Alaska by rail.

A railroad extends 470 miles from Seward on the south coast of Alaska to Fairbanks in the center of the state. It passes through Anchorage, the state's largest city, and Denali National Park, home of the largest mountain in the continental U.S.

Mount Denali, meaning "The High One" or "The Grand One". was formerly called Mount McKinley, but it was recently restored to the name used by native Americans from the area.

We took the train trip in the opposite direction. We flew into Fairbanks, then spent two or three nights each in Fairbanks, Denali Park, Anchorage, and Seward. We took a bus back to Anchorage, and flew home from there.

As seen in the map, the east and south of Alaska are mountain ranges, capped by snow all year long. To the west and north the land slopes away in glacial valleys, with broad, flat valley floors and steep sides.

We flew into Fairbanks, in the near-center of the state. The landing offers a view of both a snow-capped mountain chain to the south and the wide, green valley to the west. We learned it is not rain that makes things so green, it is all the rivers and glacial runoff in the area.

Flowing through the valley is the very broad, muddy Tanana River, with the narrower, clearer Chena River bisecting the city. Beside the Chena is the River’s Edge Resort. Our lodgings for two nights were a small cabin in the resort. Not elegant, but comfortable.

The first morning we visited the Thompson Cultural Center, a display space for the history, cultures, and wildlife of Interior Alaska. The entrance provides a welcoming display of local flowers. We'll have more to say about Alaskan flora later.

In the entrance hall hangs a light plane used by the "Flying Bishop", William Gordon Jones. He used it to minister to remote villages.

The most informative display was a series of life-size models showing how the seasons created a rhythm of life for indigenous Alaskans. They would encounter different wildlife in different seasons. For example, the eagle and the wolf appear in summer. A beaver fells trees in autumn. Tents are used during hunting season, salmon can be cured in spring, and an ice sled was essential during the long dark of winter (Fairbanks is not much more than 100 miles from the Arctice Circle).

Outside the cultural center is a sculpture of young ravens. The raven is an important symbol for several indigenous tribes. It represents both the clever creator and the greedy trickster. We learned at the Native Heritage Center in Anchorage how such symbols often appear in contrasting pairs known as moieties.

Next day tried something quite different. We took a bus to the Chena Outdoor Collective to learn all about reindeer. Reindeer are a variety of caribou, selectively bred to facilitate domestication. The Collective caters to visitors who want to learn more about the reindeer.

Ryne Olson gave an explanation of how reindeer evolved, and their relationship with caribou and other deer. She showed how their hides can be used for clothing, and talked about their antlers. She showed how the antlers of one reindeer changed every year as the deer aged.

Then it was time to meet the reindeer. We were surprised at how friendly and easy going they are. They are quite happy to interact face to face, even with a stranger, especially if she is willing to offer them food that they like.

The Chena Collective breeds its own reindeer. The youngsters develop small antlers right awaay. We learned that, although the antlers for adult females start to grow as soon as they lose one set, antlers for males are delayed for a few months. This is presumably an adaptation to protect youngsters from bullying by bulls.

Next morning we took the first of our three train rides. While waiting to board the train, we could enjoy looking at an elaborate model of the Alaska Railroad. It even included a model of the Fairbanks raiload station. We could not tell if the model itself contained a model of the model. However, it did incorporate models of buildings and scenery along the way.

A few minutes before departure time, our leader gathered her flock, and we all boarded the train. We were ready to find out what Central Alaska looked like.

One feature became evident as our train headed west, then south, along a broad river valley. This was the permafrost, i.e., ground that stays frozen for two or more consecutive years. It underlies some 85% of Alaska, mostly in the north, but extending to higher ground in central areas. The upper layer thaws in summer, allowing plants to grow, but climate warming is now thawing the deeper permafrost. This leads to "Alaskan quicksand," subsidence and flooding that create environmental hazards, sometimes forcing relocation of built areas.

In many areas the melted permafrost has killed off spruce forests that were previously much thicker. Later we'll see other consequences of the melting.

The tracks followed the River Nenana and the main highway that runs north-south through Central Alaska. At the town of Nenana the highway branched off.

Near the town of Healy the river runs through a gorge, which it follows all the way to Denali Park. The gorge becomes narrower, and the river runs faster. We saw rafters, probably from the park, taking advantage of the current.

We arrived at Denali Station, and boarded a bus that took us to Denali Park.

We stayed for three nights at the Denali Education Center. As the name implies, the Education Center is a residential setting for groups that want to learn more about the park. In fact, it works closely with Road Scholars to organize activities like the railroad trips.

The Education Center includes communal facilities such as a dining room and lecture hall. There are 12 cabins providing sleeping quarters that are accessed along a trail through the woods. Each cabin has lodgings for two couples.

The Center lies on a bank of the Nenana River, which the railroad followed coming from Fairbanks. It makes for a delightful picnic area, set among Aspens and Spruce.

The cabin trail leads to a small beach, a great place to relax. The trail itself is lined by lovely lichen and mosses that form a thick carpet anywhere nobody walks.

A feature that might not be expected is this odd contraption hanging in the trees. The local spruce trees have been seriously harmed by spruce beetles. This is a trap that lets researchers count the beetles in a given area.

During our stay at the Education Center we did not see a lot of wildlife; the best place for that was the interior of the park itself. There did seem to be several snowshoe hares though. In winter they are all white; in summer only the feet are white.

Outside the dining area was the skull of a Dall sheep. Dall sheep are common in Denali Park, but they are rarely seen up close. This was our only good view of the horns. Also on view was a set of antlers from a moose.

In the lecture hall was a collection of hides from other large mammals to be seen in the park.

Unlike wildlife, wildflowers were prolific. Many different varieties could be seen within 100 yards of our cabin.

The main reason for this proliferation is the short growing season this far north. Roughly three months each year is available for plants to grow. A great deal of energy is used in displaying blooms that attract pollinators, thus enabling the plants to reproduce.

One feature occasionally seen on trees is the tree burl. It is an abnormal growth caused by stress in the plant. The burl serves to wall off infected tissue, and does not usually harm the tree. We encountered one pair of trees sprouting 20 burls or more. We have no idea what caused this profusion.

Burls are not the same thing as the galls you may be familiar with. A gall is a reaction to foreign invaders like wasps, insects, or fungi. It encases the invader to prevent it from doing harm. Burls are solid wood, and often have a grain pattern that is prized by woodworkers.

While staying at Denali, several activities were available to us. A flight in a small plane to take photos of Mount Denali sounded interesting to Gordon, but JoAnn was not excited. We settled for a pair of nature hikes (although JoAnn opted out of the first).

So one day we took a bus to the Denali Park Visitors Center. JoAnn decided to stay and explore the Center; Gordon joined a group on a fairly vigorous two mile hike with Toni, one of our guides.

We headed for Riley Creek and took a trail that followed the creek for a while. Eventually we came to a railroad bridge that crossed the creek. We would cross the bridge when we left for Anchorage.

We came across small groups of Quaking Aspen among the spruce trees. Toni identified interesting wildflowers, and described the mosses and lichen that were thriving in this setting.

Members of the group who did not live in Alaska were surprised to see Dogwood blossoms growing on low shrubs rather than on trees.

The next day we both joined a hiking group that followed a trail near the Education Center. The pace was easier than it had been the day before. The weather was not as good as it had been, and rain was threatening. We took a break at an overlook along the Nenana River, just as the rain started.

The rain did not last long. The skies cleared, and we were able to focus on interesting vegetation. One rotting log, a "nurse log", had produced a wealth of new plants.

When we stopped to enjoy a patch of open ground along the river, several members of our group indicated they would like to go back to the start rather than continue. We were about one third the way into the hike. Our group leader, David, said he would accompany those who wanted to turn around. Gordon and Mike, another member of the group, decided to complete the hike.

The two of us picked up the pace, but since we had twice as far to go as the others, we assumed the others should get back before we did. We enjoyed the walk, which followed the river until we saw the beach at the Education Center.

We arrived back at the starting point, expecting to see the rest of our group (including JoAnn). They were not there. Gordon was worried. Surely they could not get lost if the guide, David, was with them. We had met up with Toni Oliveira, who had not seen the others. She headed back down the trail to see if she could find them.

At last they all appeared, examining flowers, moving at a leasurely pace. JoAnn could not understand why I had been so concerned. Ah well, it was another lovely hike.

To see the interior of the park, one must take the only road, 92 miles long, from the boundary to the park center.

The early stages of the drive are through glacial valleys, climbing to higher elevations where there is still plenty of snow.

Unfortunately, the road is closed after 42 miles. Landslides during the last few years have undermined the road at that point. The ground under the road at Pretty Rocks, near Polychrome Pass, has been moving for decades, but in 2014 it began to accelerate substantially. In August 2021, when movement reached speeds of almost an inch an hour, the road was closed.

But such beautiful names! Pretty Rocks; Polychrome Pass; how could bad things happen? Blame a thawing permafrost and warming temperatures. Here is a photo of the landslide site in 2022.

Now click here to see a time-lapse video of the site from June 24 to November 8, 2024. A period of 137 days is compressed into 22 seconds, but it is still frightening.

The landslide at Pretty Rocks has been compared to an ice cream sandwich. A photo taken from the spot where traffic must turn around shows why. The white section consists of easily eroded rocks, surrounded on each side by harder, more solid formations.

Notwithstanding the problem with landslides, the trip out and back was interesting enough in terms of mountainous terrain, the tundra and snow, and the wild life.

Dall Sheep are common in the park. They are wild sheep native to northwestern North America. One reason for the existence of Denali Park was to provide a refuge for these sheep, who were at one time being hunted to extinction.

The sheep mostly graze the higher and steeper slopes, and unfortunately they were never close enough for a good photograph.

Also common in this area are moose. We saw several, including this young one. It was likely a bull, as indicated by the developing antlers. We also caught sight of a caribou, the undomesticated version of the reindeer we had met earlier.

One thing we did not see was any variety of bear, to JoAnn's relief and Gordon's disappointment. Near Polychrome pass we saw a very explicit warning sign (enlarged in the photo). After an inspection, Gordon was convinced it was a false alarm (that day). Toni, one of our guides, agreed.

Before leaving the park we stopped at an overlook, from where one can normally obtain a good view of the Mount Denali. Today we were not in luck.

To see what we missed, here is a photo that friends sent to us, taken from Talkeetna a few years ago.

Throughout the bus ride back we did have excellent views of one beautiful snow-covered mountain, Mount Deborah, elevation 12,339 ft. It is a major peak in the Alaska Mountain Range, some 50 miles east of Denali Park. While not the highest in the range, it is particularly impressive in terms of its rugged outline.

One morning we drove to Squid Acres, a few miles outside the park, to meet a team of sled dogs, and learn about the Iditarod race from a prize winning musher. The musher was Paige Drobny, who with her husband raises Alaskan Huskies, the breed most preferred by sled racers.

Paige's presentation was assisted by Ragnar, an Alaskan Husky, who enjoys nothing more than meeting visitors.

Page and her dog team have taken part in the Iditarod race several times. The race is over 1,000 miles long, teams covering around 100 miles a day. Earlier this year she placed fourth overall of 29 finishers in 9:15:38:48. She was 8 hrs 6 min behind first place. Last year she placed third of 22 finishers.

Paige explained the strategies that enable her and the dogs to cover the distance so quickly, and survive. She described the sled itself and its contents, which have to support a team of 16 dogs and the musher. They will spend 10 days on a snow covered trail, racing through the wilderness in bitterly cold weather.

So now it is time to dress for the event. This involves adding layers of clothing to ward off a cold wind. The face disappears behind a heavy hood; gloves are essential to prevent the fingers from freezing, and a racing bib shows you are a registered competitor.

Finally, wearing some 18 pounds of gear, the musher is ready to take charge of the sled and direct her dogs.

It is time now to bring in the dogs. The dogs live in individual kennels, from where they are brought over and connected to the sled. They are attached to the main rope in pairs. The dogs have been trained not to get tangled while pulling. If they should get tangled, they know how to get free.

There being no snow on the ground that day, the dogs were going to pull a jeep. It seemed to make no difference to them; they clearly enjoy the exercise..

While the dogs were pulling a jeep on a trail somewhere, we met a breeding dog and her puppies. As with almost any breed, the puppies were irresistibly adorable.

The next section of our railroad journey was by far the longest. It may also have been the least interesting.

The train was scheduled to leave Denali Station a little after noon. Passengers waited in sheds at the station. The train pulled in, and left right on time.

The tracks cross the Alaska Range south of Denali park, and follow the Nenana river upstream. From time to time one can look back and see Denali Park.

Eventually the tracks cross the Broad Pass, elevation 2363 feet. From here it is all downhill to Anchorage.

The river is fed by streams coming from the Talkeetna Mountains to the East. In low lying areas though, the effects of melting permafrost become apparent.

The tracks cross Hurricane Gulch using a trestle bridge that was the most difficult bridge to construct when the railroad was built. The stream running through Hurricane Gulch joins the Chulitna River, with excellent views back to the Alaska Range.

The tracks now follow Susitna River, with the Talkeetna Mountains to the east. Near the town of Talkeetna the Susitana River joins with the Chulitna and grows even wider.

As we approached Anchorage the scenery became more urban. We saw more and more signs of construction. Unexpected was the prevalence of gravel mining. Because of the increasing instability of building sites, gravel has become critical for stabilizing foundations. A serious shortage of gravel is beginning to manifest itself.

We stayed two nights in Anchorage at the Captain Cook Hotel. Captain James Cook, was a famous British explorer who was very instrumental in the European mapping of Alaska. The 200 mile inlet leading to Anchorage was named after him. Our room was on the 18th floor, offering a fine view of downtown Anchorage and the Chugach mountains to the east.

The Anchorage Museum is a large art, history, and science museum in downtown Anchorage. We had time for only a brief visit. .

We enjoyed some of the native Alaskan art work, like this whale bone and walrus ivory sculpture of a "Dancing figure" by Tony Weyiouanna (see figure detail.)

Gordon also spent a little time in the museum's planetarium. Although designed for youngsters to learn about astronomy and space, it is much broader than that. Gordon enjoyed watching a young boy interacting (through the glass) with a snapping turtle. He was also intrigued by an exhibit showing how infrared light can measure warm and cool areas of a person's body. (That's Gordon taking selfies, with and without his glasses.)

We spent one morning at the Native Heritage Center, where one can learn about the traditions, languages, and arts of Alaskan cultures. At the entrance is a representation of Raven the Creator, as noted previously a common symbol among indigenous tribes.

Reproductions of the communities for many indigenous tribes have been created on the Center's grounds. We were given a tour by one of the guides, here describing a village site for the Yupiit and Cupiit groups. Her presentation was excellent; she provided a lively explanation of their way of life.

The tour began with the Athabascan Ceremonial House, a large log house used for tribal ceremonies. Behind it was a cache built on tall stilts, used for food storage to protect it from animals. A ladder was kept handy.

Several tribes built chambers by tunneling into a hillside. This provided both warmth in winter and protection from attacking groups. In some cases an escape tunnel was provided at the back of the chamber. The Qasgiq built an elaborate chamber that served as the men's house and community center, where boys old enough to leave their mothers joined the men. There was an especially elaborate alternative entrance and exit. (The "caution" sign was presumably not included in the original.)

For the Inipiaq and other groups the whale was an important element of life. In the tribes' worldview, whales bind members of the tribe to the land, and bind them to each other as a people. A whale rib might not often be prominent in the group's chamber, but the full skeleton of a Grey Whale was carefully laid out and venerated.

Two whale ribs arranged vertically give a good sense of the size of the whale. The effect is even better if two people are available to provide a sense of scale. (It's doubtful though if the Inipiaq posed for such portraits.)

Life was hard for the early inhabitants of Alaska, especially during bitterly cold winters. Some sea faring people though, such as the Unangax and Sugpiaq, had access to the Gulf of Alaska, so there was a rich sea life all year round. There was time available to do things other than scrabble for food. The tribes developed more complex societies and hereditary classes.

Other tribes in the south east, like the Linglit and Xaadas, lived quite a rich life. These were the people who built totem poles. Their underground chambers were more elaborate than other tribes'. For example, these are steps carved into a pole to enable access to the surface.

Some of their structures were quite elaborate, like this shed used for carving food. Their clan or long house was a massive plank house with cedar posts and spruce beams.

Inside the house were smaller totem poles that were used to represent moieties, spiritual systems that divide the universe into complementary halves, like the raven and eagle. The killer whale and wolf were used in some cultures. The skill used in the carving was quite remarkable.

The next day we left Anchorage on the last segment of the railroad journey. This section is the most spectacular part of the trip, and we were looking forwad to it.

We gathered early in the morning at the Anchorage train station. The steep bank behind the parking lot is the result of the 1964 earthquake, which led to one side dropping several feet while the other side was pushed up.

Before the train arrived we had time to admire a hundred year old steam engine, the Alaska Railroad #802. This is a preserved steam locomotive originally used during the construction of the Panama Canal. It was transferred to the Alaska Railroad Commission in 1917, and used to lay track during the building of the Alaska Railroad.

We boarded the train, and soon after leaving Anchorage we were treated to beautiful scenery. The tracks run alongside "Turnagain Arm", an extension of Cook Inlet. The name reflects Cook's frustration when he kept running into shallow waters and having to back out.

To our right were the spectacular Kenai Mountains. It was low tide, and mud flats were extensive. To our left were the Chugach Mountains. We saw Dall sheep grazing on the mountainside. The further into the arm we traveled, the more extensive the mud flats became.

Near the end of the arm the tracks follow a narrow spit of land, with the Seward Highway between the tracks and the main body of water. The closer we came to the end of the arm, the more spectacular the Kenai Mountains became. To our left we saw the spectacular Spencer Glacier.

For the rest of our trip we were treated to a constantly changing series of beautiful views. Remnants of the winter's snow looked like mini glaciers (though they were snow, not ice). Snow melt had generated rushing streams, and more distant views showed cascades running off the steep slopes.

The vegetation was a lush green; the Kenai Peninsula receives more rain than most of the state. The color contrast with mountains, glaciers and mountain streams was delightful.

We passed close to another glacier that is fed by the Harding Icefield, an enormous body of ice field in the Kenai Mountains to the west. We caught more reflections of these mountains in Kenai Lake.

We soon reached the outskirts of Seward, and pulled into the railroad terminus. The scenic views had not come to an end though. There was more to come.

Seward is laid out as a long, narrow town, along Resurrection Bay. The downtown area is centered on the original railroad depot. (In 1964 the depot was moved a mile and a half north because of the earthquake.) From downtown one can look south along Resurrection Bay and out to the Gulf of Alaska.

A stone monument commemorates the 1903 founding of the town and the Alaska Central Railway. The monument also serves as the historic Mile Zero of the Iditarod Trail.

Mile Zero is in Seward because it was the starting point for the historic Seward-to-Nome mail and supply route. During the gold rush, steamships dropped off goods in Seward's ice-free port. Dog sled teams then carried these supplies to mining camps and northern villages.

While we were in Seward we stayed at the Gateway Hotel, a mile and a half north of downtown. Near the hotel is a humurous wood carving that satirizes the Iditarod.

Seward has been designated "Mural Capital of Alaska". There are more than 30 mural paintings distributed through the town, each locally relevant in some way. Justine Pechuzal, who is an artist and herself a painter of murals, gave us a tour of a sample of the murals.

She explained the origins and purpose of each mural, and it's relationship to the history of Seward. Here it was a mural about the Qutekcak tribe and Seward's Native Roots. Justine had a mural of her own, and the group spent some time discussing it with her.

One of the best known locations in Seward is the SeaLife Center (see next section). A mural attached to the Center represents the sea life that is its focus. And of course the Iditarod has to be featured in at least one mural.

Some murals are based on the mythical stories told by indigenous Alaskans. This one for example, "The Fog Woman", by master artist Jennifer Headtke, represents a legend that teaches respect for what one possesses. The Fog Woman manages to create salmon before she becomes lost.

One mural shows kayakers exploring icebergs in front of the Aialik Glacier within the Kenai Peninsula. The artwork celebrates the many physically active residents and visitors in the town.

On the side of one house are two murals that celebrate the Seward Mount Marathon race. The race takes runners up the side of a mountain just outside town. The mountain peak is the half way point. The slope of the staircase is supposedly the same as the slope of the mountain.

The Alaska SeaLife Center combines a public aquarium with marine research and education facilities. It is also the only permanent marine mammal rescue and rehabilitation facility in the state. The entrance is near the Iditarod Mile Zero. Sea Life displays can be seen on the first two floors.

Some aquaria feature local fish. Others show underwater vegatation like kelp, and smaller animals like shell fish, starfish, etc. Anenomes in all colors are very popular. One of the staff talked about shrimp and how friendly they are. (That's the dark brown creature.)

A large room occupying two stories of the building is devoted to sea birds. In the upper level, visitors can observe a variety of birds swimming in the large tank.

Some of the birds, like the Horned Puffin, can be very hard to see in the wild. In the SeaLife Center, however, they are almost tame. Other birds that can be seen up close include the Pigeon Guillemot and the King Eider.

A separate two-story tank is devoted to Sea Lions. At the lower level one can observe the acrobatic animals performing underwater, almost as if they enjoy entertaining the visitors.

The SeaLife Center is a very informative facility, but to fully appreciate the marine life it helps to see it in its natural setting. So one morning we took a trip on a catamaran boat, from Seward harbor south along Resurrection Bay, and around the Kenai Peninsula to Aialik Bay.

The harbor is at the north end of the town. We cruised slowly past the yacht harbor and the harbor entrance channel, and headed south past the downtown area.

We enjoyed an excellent view of the Kenai Peninsula to our west, as the ship's captain took care not to disturb a pair of sea otters. They did not seem to mind our presence though.

We picked up speed as we approached the open Gulf of Alaska, and we learned an important lesson. If you are standing on an open deck as the boat accelerates, keep a tight grip on the nearest handrail. And tie your hat down ahead of time.

The south end of Resurrection Bay is marked by numerous steep-sided rocks. To the west are the stunning peaks of the Kenai Peninsula. In the distance we caught sight of the Bear Glacier, the largest in the Kenai Fjords National Park - it's 12 miles long and 3 miles wide. We got a better view of the glacier as we came closer.

A few miles south we passed a rock that was populated by sea birds, and a little further on came to cliffs that were home for a group of sea lions.

We reached a small, isolated rock and turned south to head into Aialik Bay. We came to an area of steep, almost vertical rocks rising out of the bay, and pulled close to experience the steady drip of water coming from the cliff.

We sailed further south in Aialik Bay to see two of the glaciers that discharge into the bay from the Harding Icefield. The first one we came to was the Pedersen Glacier. It does not discharge directly into the bay, but into a lagoon created by the glacier's terminal moraine, which separates the ice from the bay water.

Further south we came to part of the bay that was full of ice; not icebergs exactly, just large lumps of ice. We came around a headland and saw the Aialik Glacier. The junction of the glacier with sea water is very active. It frequently drops large chunks of ice into the water, especially in May and June as temperatures rise.

Aialik Bay has its own population of wild life that kept us entertained. For the most part this consisted of humpback whales. The whales were rather unpredictable though. They would be underwater and out of sight; then one would discharge a spout of condensed water. It would emerge in roughly the location of the blow. If you were fast you could get a photo.

Eventually Gordon gave up. He put his cameras away and decided to enjoy the show. Of course, at that point a female whale and her calf appeared, the calf going through the full acrobatic routine that they seem to enjoy. It was wonderful to watch. There are no photos though.

It was time to head home. A bus took us north heading for Anchorage, from where we could catch a flight to Raleigh.

As we left Seward we were treated to one more sight of wildlife, a Golden Eagle high in a tree, who flew to her nest when we stopped for a better view.

Much of the bus route paralleled the route taken by the train, but with enough variation to maintain our interest. Again, we were treated to views of mountains set off by luxiuriant vegetation. We enjoyed the views of Kenai Lake.

We pulled into a parking area for a rest break about two thirds the way to Anchorage. This provided one more opportunity to take photographs.

As we approached Turnagain Arm the scenery began to look even more familiar. We crossed the Placer River, which drains into the south-east end of Turnaround Arm. We followed the arm to our night's lodgings not far from Anchorage Airport.

We enjoyed one more dinner with the Road Scholars tour group and got an early night. Although we were sorry that the trip had ended, it had left us quite tired. Only one thing led us to regret that we were going home. The weather in Alaska had been so cool and pleasant; the temperatures in Chapel Hill had been hovering near 100° F.

Next morning we flew to Seattle to catch the red-eye flight to RDU. By now we had spent so much time looking for wildlife like sea lions, whales, caribou, and moose, we were quite sure we saw a large moose on our way through Seattle airport. But we were very tired at that point; it was probably something else.

What follows is mostly a summary of what we learned from our trip. There's some interesting information and personal opinions of the author; there's a lot of words and not many pictures. So do not feel bad about skipping the whole thing.

Alaska is unique among the 50 U.S. states. It is the largest state, and the population is very small; there are only two with smaller populations (Vermont and Wyoming). If the land were divided equally among the people of Alaska, there would be roughly 10 acres per person. By comparison, in North Carolina there would be 3 acres each.

The distribution of people within Alaska is unbalanced. Nearly half live in and around Anchorage. The borough north of Anchorage, together with Fairbanks, account for much of the remainder. The blue line on the map marks our railroad route, and shows how our exposure to the state was mostly limited to the more populated areas.

Alaska has been inhabited for almost 15,000 years. Europeans have lived here for less then 300 years. Native Alaskans still make up over 15% of the population, which is more indigenous individuals than in any other state.

The first inhabitants had migrated across the Bering Straight. The first European settlers, thousands of years later, were Russian. They came from Siberia in maritime expeditions, mostly in pursuit of animal pelts. Russia claimed the land as their own until 1867. That year they sold it to the U.S.

The sale was not popular here, but we should understand why Russia did not want the territory, and why many in the U.S. thought it was not worth buying.

This map displays the eventual distribution of indigenous tribes and their languages. As you can see, they occupied the entire territory.

Native Alaskans have always felt a mutual interdependence with, and a deep respect for, their environment. Europeans, however, have typically thought of the environment in terms owning property rights and extracting resource. When Russia felt that the cost of the resource extraction was too high, they decided to sell their rights. U.S. citizens who criticized the sale were probably thinking along the same lines.

Attitudes towards resources have changed though. Events such as the discovery of gold in the early 1900s, and the oil drilling that reached its peak in 1968, have given rise to bitter arguments. In essence, is it worth harming the environment to obtain more oil or precious minerals?

This photo of the largest truck in Alaska is a compelling portrait of the impact that gold mining has had. The truck holds 240 tons of rock. If the rock is used to extract gold, one truck load can generate no more than 5 to 8 ounces of gold. That leaves a lot of left-over rock.

When it comes to resource extraction, the European principle of property rights can manifest itself in unfortunate ways. Russia has probably regretted selling its claims to Alaska. They seem to be compensating now by applying a "finders keepers" rule to another neighbor, the Arctic Ocean. In 2027 two Russians took a submarine to a depth of 2.65 miles to explore the Arctic seabed, where they planted a capsule containing a Russian flag.

Conflicting attitudes about resources, and arguments over development of the environment, are just one source of problems for Alaska. The geology of the tectonic plates beneath Alaska is another. The Pacific Plate is sliding beneath the North American plate, generating earthquakes, and creating serious instability in built up areas.

There are roughly 600 earthquakes a year in Denali Park alone, plus residual earth movement that is almost continuous. One day JoAnn was reading her email and noticed that her iPad was shaking. The cabin was settling on its foundation.

Most earthquakes are hardly felt, but some can be deadly serious. In 1964 there was a magnitude 9.2 quake in Prince William Sound. Worldwide, only a 9.5 quake in Chile in 1960 has been worse. The earthquakes are bad enough, but global warming altering the effects of permafrost has made their consequences worse.

Of course, global warming has had multiple effects everywhere. Inland, the tree line (the level above which trees will not grow) has moved to higher elevations, and glaciers have shrunk. Sea ice has diminished as well, especially in Septembers, following summer warming.

Our experience in Alaska suggested other conclusions. They are not problematic, but they may be worth mentioning. We found the architecture in cities like Fairbanks and Anchorage to be plain and simple, but just not very interesting. In downtown Fairbanks, for example, there was plenty of space between buildings (as one might expect), but little originality. It was all straight lines and right angles. Bobby's Restaurant is very good (we ate there), but uninspiring from the outside. A general purpose grocery and supply store shows no spark of ingenuity; it might be seen in any of the lower 48 states.

Similar conclusions were suggested in Anchorage. The view of downtown from our hotel room was of plain buildings and parking lots. Contrast ths with, say, downtown Vancouver as we saw it three years ago.

We found a rare exception on the campus of the University of Alaska Fairbanks. This building is more architecturally interesting than others we saw.

There is, of course, so much that it positive we can say about Alaska. We have tried to point this out in the travelogue. We noticed one other thing during the course of our trip, one very positive feature that became apparent.

Most of those who organized or facilitated our tour were women. Jenn Shippee, Toni Oliveira, Jordan Lammert, Natalie Reimer, and others, produced an excellent Road Scholar tour. Ryne Olson and Kalyn Holl taught us about reindeer. Paige Drobny (the Iditarod competitor), Justine Pechuzal (our guide to the Seward murals), and our guide to the Native Heritage Center, all left us knowing more than we did when we arrived.

Many of the people we met in Alaska, especially the women, had moved there for a temporary job, and stayed because they loved the place. There seems to be a sense of freedom here to pursue one's own goals, without the usual social norms interfering.

I don't think either of us feels impelled to move to Alaska, but if this is an area where respect for the land can still balance a need to extract resources, there is much to be said for living there.

Other Pitz Vacations