Alaska Day 14: Seward and Kenai Fjords National Park

The 0515 alarm clock was jarring, to say the least, and I hated it until I could shut it off. Probably longer, truth be told. It was necessary though for us to make our 0545 check-in time to catch the Alaska Railroad Coastal Classic to Seward. It was just another in a long series of very early mornings on this vacation. Today is the last day big-ticket day of that vacation; tomorrow will see us with a quasi-rest day, before flying back to Portland the day after.

Ann booked for us first-class tickets on the train, called Gold Star class, which included breakfast on the way to Seward and dinner on the way back to Anchorage. Two drinks each were also part of our fare, though we did not take advantage of them in the morning, unlike some of our fellow passengers. Our tickets were also part of a package that included a cruise to Kenai Fjords National Park before our return. We had always heard how nice Alaska Railroad was and this was a perfect opportunity to experience it for ourselves.

Having discovered last night that the station is situated right by our hotel, we set out to walk the five minutes to arrive by 0545. The streets were dimly lit, fairly dark because of the cloud cover and light rain, and deserted at that early hour. Despite its listing on the National Register of Historic Places, Anchorage Depot is a decidedly utilitarian looking and small concrete 3-story structure, resembling perhaps an Army barracks or a jail. For frame of reference, we are most used to Union Station in DC and Penn and Grand Central in the City, monuments all.

Inside the remarkably small building for a terminal in a major city, the line to check in was fairly short, but would grow very long in the time leading up to our 0645 departure. Fully checked-in, we went to the little coffee kiosk in the station to start our morning caffeination. Coffee in hand, we parked on one of the few benches lining the wall. We were going to get coffee at the Kaladi Bros in the hotel lobby, but it and the lobby, like the streets, were deserted when we walked through.

The crowd grew and grew until the terminal was positively jammed, people shoulder-to-shoulder like sardines despite COVID. Finally, an attendant opened the back gate and let us walk out across the concrete to the train to find our assigned cars. Our first-class car was a double-decker and the second of two Gold Star cars featuring a dining room below with seating on the second floor. We climbed to the high glass-windowed sightseeing dome via a spiral staircase at the end of the car near where we boarded.

In fairly short order, we found our seats and the train pulled slowly away from the station along Knik Arm, headed south. For a couple minutes, we paralleled the Tony Knowles Coastal Trail on which we had walked briefly on our first day in Anchorage. Slow and steady would be the order of the day. This train is primarily for leisurely sightseeing and not for rapid transport. The trip would take about four hours and twenty minutes each way. The time is approximate: the engineers will slow the train on occasion for passengers to see wildlife. Contrast this with about two and a half hours by car. 

Masked and Slowly Moving Through Anchorage

The High Dome First Class Cars are Wonderful

I was really looking forward to this trip because although I had driven along Turnagain Arm several times along its full length, I never really got the opportunity to look at it and take in all the scenery. My concentration had to be on the road, naturally. Sadly, the weather did not cooperate today and the gorgeous scenery that I might have seen was largely fogged in and obscured from view as we made our way south along the Arm. In contrast to days prior, I could see large waves and whitecaps on Turnagain Arm which has been largely flat the dozen or so times we’ve seen it in the past two weeks.

Just south of Anchorage while the train picked up speed, Ann and I were invited downstairs to breakfast, included with our tickets, in the dining car whose windows were totally fogged. We were seated at a booth with a young couple from Mexico City on their COVID-delayed honeymoon. I had biscuits and gravy which wasn’t terrible. Somewhat pastry-like, the biscuits were a bit off from my idea of what a true biscuit should be, while the gravy had good flavor and consistency. After breakfast, they showed us some photos of their wedding in Mexico and we showed them photos from our time at the Alyeska Resort, where they were heading. Just after breakfast, they got off in Girdwood, the sole stop for the Coastal Classic, to begin their stay at the Alyeska Resort.

Gloomy Weather Near Portage

Alaska is Beautiful Even in the Rain

The train track parallels the Seward Highway and Turnagain Arm all the way to Portage before diverging from the highway and heading roughly south along the Placer River. It follows the river from its mouth at Turnagain Arm where it is a large braided river up into the vastly impressive Chugach Mountains where the river is a raging stream, fed by glacial melt and screaming downhill toward the sea.

High in the hills, the railroad continues its southerly course while the Placer veers nearly due east to its source at Spencer Glacier Lake at the foot of Spencer Glacier. The lake is full of icebergs calved off the glacier. Just at the glacier, we saw the Placer River pedestrian bridge, a 280-foot camelback truss bridge believed to be the longest laminated timber truss bridge in North America.

The glacier imposed some unique engineering requirements. The impressive bridge needed to be high enough for icebergs from the lake to pass under the deck and those same icebergs mean that there could be no support piers in the water. Thus, the deck is 25 feet above the water and is 280 feet long between supports.

Besides all this, it's just a cool looking wooden bridge and part of the National Forest Service's efforts to create a recreational area in this part of the Chugach National Forest.

At Spencer, the Placer River Pedestrian Bridge

Spencer Glacier

Past several more glaciers (Bartlett Glacier) and indescribably spectacular scenery, the train winds up through an impressive set of curves and passing through five tunnels, finally crossing over the Kenai Mountains at Grandview Pass. The tracks then bend to the southwest to follow Moose Creek to the shores of Upper Trail Lake and passing through the hamlet of Moose Creek where the tracks again follow alongside the Seward Highway which they left back in Portage.

Adding to the ambiance while we were gawking an the incredible scenery was a group of rednecks from Florida, clad in camo and plaid, getting louder and louder on a constant stream of Bloody Marys, then beer after beer, first drinking all the Bud Light before moving on to Bud. Mask compliance in the group was nil. 

In the S Curves

I Believe This is Bartlett Glacier

Curve is Sharp: We're Only 3 Cars Behind the Engines

The train follows the highway nearly due south along the east side of the massive Kenai Lake, which gives rise to the Kenai River to the west at Cooper Landing where we were just days ago. From here it’s a nearly straight gentle downhill following the highway and crossing the Resurrection River before ending in Seward, perched on flat ground at the end of Resurrection Bay.

The first class cars have conductors who provide a little narration during the trip, but not so much as to be annoying. Our conductor, David, was largely helpful with his at times corny patter. He had a tendency to start every sentence with the word "now." "Now we are passing a glacier" and "Now boarding for the return trip will start at 5 o'clock sharp" are examples. We kept a running count at one point when he led 14 sentences in a row with "now." Ann ribbed him gently about it in good fun.

Kenai Lake in the Morning

Alongside Kenai Lake in the Afternoon

Just before arriving in Seward, the conductor in our car advised us to get our return boarding passes before heading out on the Kenai Fjords cruise. Inside the tiny station, Ann and I were the first in line for boarding passes but nobody was behind the counter. A sign on the counter advised that the station staff was unloading baggage from the train.

Because the train arrived a bit late and because of the delay in waiting for unloading baggage, we did not get our boarding passes until 11:26, four minutes before our boat departure time. We jumped out into the parking lot and flagged down a cruise shuttle, managed to jump the line at the cruise check-in counter, and were the last to board the cruise. We could have walked between the train terminal and the boat dock, had we known our way around, had good weather, and had the time. We had none of those.

At the counter they advised us that our cruise was a “weather cruise,” subject to being abbreviated because of high seas on the stretch of open Pacific that we would have to traverse. It was raining as we boarded, but lightly. Seeing the lower and upper cabins jam-packed with people and belongings sprawled all over, we opted for the upper stern deck sitting under the cabin overhang to keep the rain off. It helped a bit, just a bit.

As we backed out of our berth, I immediately recognized the boat directly behind us as the FV Kruzof, a long-liner belonging to Jim Hubbard. I had seen plenty of photos and video of the boat back in Virginia when Jim would come to visit his sister Beth, who ran the local farmers market and was a principal supplier to the restaurant. We had hoped to hook up with Jim on our trip out, but we were unable to find accommodations in Seward, hence our lengthy stay in Homer. Beth had told us that he would be out fishing anyway. Apparently not.

A Familiar Sight, the FV Kruzof

Seward Harbor Sentinel

Tiny Seward, Pop. 3000, Mount Marathon

Limited Visibility in Slashing Rain

The seas were gentle leaving Seward Harbor and heading out into Resurrection Bay, but 20-30 minutes into the trip we started feeling 8-10 foot seas. The rain increased to the point of near downpour. Our feet and the bottom of our pants were soaked. I had to keep my camera under my rain jacket to keep it dry. Even though wearing masks was optional while out on the deck, we wore them to help keep our faces warm. They helped; it was that cold outside.

Face Masks for Cold, not COVID

The seas continued to increase, but they were just moving up and down, significantly up and down, but not corkscrewing, and the captain did a great job of keeping the twin-hull catamaran heading into the waves. At this point, we really hadn’t seen anything of interest and the clouds kept the views to a minimum. After the captain pulled into a cove called Mary’s Bay on Rugged Island and killed the engines to give everyone a breather and a chance to hit the head, he came on the PA to let us know that another boat had seen orcas just off our position.

My First Orca

Within five minutes, we saw the magnificent black and white creatures at a quarter mile. We would see them for a good half an hour in pretty miserable rain and at times blasting wind. I hard a hard time photographing them as their appearance on the surface was brief and their location unpredictable, giving the tiniest window of time to get the photo composed and focused before opening the shutter. I ragged out a battery very quickly with the autowinder, not that cameras have autowinders any longer.

Did I mention it was raining sideways and the deck pitching and rolling? Even when I could get the camera on the large porpoises, half the time, someone would step right in my line of sight as I was shooting. At other times, I would get a great shot only to have rain drops on the lens messing up the image. I shot 400 frames to get a handful of keepers.

The captain mentioned that this was one of the resident pods of orcas. It was hard to estimate how many individuals we saw, but I would guess at least a dozen. Most of them were females with a calf in tow. One of the babies, maybe ten feet long, would entertain us by breaching every so often, but never when my camera was pointed its direction. Almost all I saw were females or young. I do have some photographs of a couple that look like young males. We never did see a definitive mature male.

Baby Surfacing Between Male and a Female

Female Orca, Right, Spouting

Mom with Calf in Tow, Next Two Frames

About a Dozen Orcas Close Inshore

Back in the cabin trying to warm up after being soaked from 30 minutes of shooting orcas, I noticed more of the trend that I have been seeing all trip: tons of tourists sporting brand new hiker wannabe clothing and gear. Why? Especially on a boat, why?

Speaking of gear, my shoes were soaking wet for the second time in three days. I just finally got them dried out after fishing two days ago, only to soak them again today. Thank goodness for my Darn Tough wool socks that keep my feet warm, wet or no. This is the final hurrah for these Obōz shoes: I have well over 3000 miles on them and they are due for replacement. And I finally wore through the soles of my oldest Darn Toughs; they’ll get retired as well when we return home.

While I was in the cabin trying to get warm, the crew came by and handed out chicken wraps, mythical chicken and romaine lettuce in tortillas that had seen better days. The chicken was mythical in that it was rumored but not sighted. I wasn't expecting any lunch and this pretty much lived up to my expectations.

Hearing reports that the seas were worsening from other boats, the captain decided to cut our tour short. We followed the orcas for about an hour before returning to Seward. The captain tried to salvage as much of the trip as possible and showed us several abandoned mines along the shore and took us around Orca Island with its yurts on platforms for well-to-do glampers. I was only a little disappointed that we weren’t going to get over to the glaciers where others had been seeing humpbacks and Dall's porpoises all week, but I was wet, cold, exhausted, and ready to be back in Oregon.

There will hopefully be another chance to see Kenai Fjords National Park in better weather and next time, we'll charter a small boat to take us on a customized tour and avoid the cattle-car tour that we took on this visit.

Coming Back into Seward Harbor

We took the shuttle back to the train station at 3:30, opting to sit it out until boarding at 5:00 rather than exploring Seward which we might well have done earlier in our vacation. But given that we were exhausted, we just decided to sit in the tiny 20x50 depot and try to get warm and drier.

Tiny Seward Station

While we were on the boat, the ARR crew turned the train 180 degrees heading north towards Anchorage. While Ann tried to dry her socks on the heater in the depot, I walked the length of the train in the rain to see the equipment headed up by two older EMD SD70s, 4327 leading 4324, then a baggage car, two bi-level Ultra Dome cars for Gold Star class, a passenger car, a dining/lounge car, a passenger car, a shared dome car for Adventure class, a passenger car, another shared dome car, and a final passenger car. I liked that the trucks of the passenger cars were spiffed with a fresh coat of silver paint.

Nice Touch: Passenger Car Trucks Spiffed with Silver Paint

When you’re tired AF at the end of a long day, the slow train is tedious, no matter how glorious the scenery. We had quite the challenging little girl behind us who had minimal parental supervision. On the trip out, she was a few rows behind us; on the route back to Anchorage, we had the misfortune to have her directly behind us. It was truly uncomfortable given our exhaustion in that she was loud and boisterous in the extreme: she may have been autistic. In any case, we hit the bar server up for a couple of beers to take the edge off. She, like the rest of the crew, worked the trip out this morning and would work the trip back tonight. The ARR employees work hard for their money.

Anesthetic Against Brats

They started serving dinner immediately on leaving the depot at Seward. The dining area on the level below can only seat half the passengers in the car at a time, so they seat guests for meals in two shifts. We begged out of the first shift at 6:00, opting for the later 7:30 shift.

Food is not a strength at ARR, really our only complaint about their Gold Star service. Ann had pot roast and I had a hamburger. Naturally, my burger was cooked hours or days before and reheated on the train. Although I expected this situation, it didn’t make the burger any better. Ann’s pot roast was the better choice, I am certain, better, but not memorable.

The rain had mainly blown through before the trip back and I was able to get a few better-looking photos on the way back, though my enthusiasm for it had pretty much gone by the wayside.

Icebergs in Spencer Glacier Lake

We returned to Anchorage in the dusk, sometime after 10pm, probably closer to 10:30. We staggered up the hill and to our room at the Hilton. Tomorrow is our final day in Alaska, our last hurrah. We’re both so tired that our plan to hike the Crow Pass Trail in the Chugach to see mountain goats or bears, either at Girdwood or Eagle River, is in grave danger of being cancelled for a slug day. Who are we kidding? That hike is DOA.

My final thought for the day before bed is that Gold Star service on Alaska Railroad is wonderful and despite the crappy weather, this was the most spectacular train ride I have ever been on. I love riding on trains and definitely want to come back and head north to Denali and Fairbanks.

I think a wonderful trip would be to take the train to Seward, hire a small boat to explore Kenai Fjords, bum a ride out and hike the Harding Ice Field, then take the train back north to Fairbanks, explore for a couple of days, come back to Denali and spend a few days in the back country, then take the train south to explore Talkeetna and Wasilla before heading home.