Part II: Heading To Fairbanks

Arriving to the train station early was my dad’s idea, but even he underestimated how early we would get there. Either our driver knew the ropes well or the front desk lady drives slowly.

The morning light filled the small, quaint train station with a warm light that reflected off of the polished wooden benches and onto the detailed ceiling. We watched travelers saunter in as the time rolled on steadily towards our departure. I had never been on a real train before (just those things big cities call trains), and never first class!

The front car of the blue and yellow train was reserved for us Gold Star people (fancy-pants). The second story was the seating quarters, which included a bar, open-air deck, and a clear bubble ceiling. The bottom of the car was where the bathrooms and dining room were. I chose to spend much of my time out on the open air deck with my camera. I was about to find out that this was to be prime real estate for many reasons.

As with most adventures, things began to chug along quite nicely. The scenery was fantastic, from the jagged mountain peaks to the braided-meandering river crossings. Trees were a nice touch as well. What was not a nice touch was an Indian family located a few seats back and to the right of us. Their little girl, who had to have been three or four, was a brat of a child.

Great loud and strange wailings continued out of her mouth for eight hours, greatly annoying everyone in the train car. The creature even drove the nice New Zealand couple to drink excessively. Now, I am not usually bothered by a little bit of fussing as long as the parents are trying their best to silence the child. These people did NOTHING! Not even their extended family, who was with them, would provide aid.

I missed most of the screaming child action since I was out on the open-air deck part of the train car, and could not hear much. Only when the child came outside did I come inside, except for the lure of the dining car. The food on the train was wonderfully well-prepared and flavorful. I dined on buffalo burgers for lunch and salmon corn chowder in the evening.

When the train stopped in Denali National Park so did the screaming. The Indian couple left the train. Everyone on-board felt and looked more at ease. Even the New Zealand couple had ceased their drinking binge, and promptly went to sleep. I came in and relaxed with a nice book in my seat while the wilderness of Alaska quietly sped past. We spent the next four hours in silence with only slight interruption from the staff narration.

As we rolled into Fairbanks, I saw the University of Alaska, my future home, for the first time. I thought about this introspectively, said goodbye to the staff, and exited the train.

Part III: The Hunt For Someplace Nice