Monday 8/13
We arise late. We are NOT feeling whittier, prettier, or bright. We’ve slept long and well, but we’re still bone tired after our exciting raft trip. Maybe our lyric should be, “We feel Ancienter, Sedantarier, not Right”. We have a leisurely breakfast including a double dose of Geritol.
Our plan for the day is to visit Whittier on the same Prince William Sound we so enjoyed in Valdez. We had originally intended to launch Das Bot for another excursion to the glaciers. Scrub that idea, it’s just too much work.
Our truncated plan includes a Jeep-only quick trip through the tunnel, one spin around beautiful downtown Whittier and a prompt return to the Admiral.
The big draw is the tunnel. Probably another Ted Stephens fiasco, this World War II railroad tunnel was modified in 2000 to finally give cars from the rest of Alaska a terrestrial connection to Whittier. The thing was supposed to cost $15 million but ended up with $70+ million in cost overruns. With a population of 182 (2000 Census), the per capita cost to us lower-fortyeighters was $500,000. I expect it enabled Stephens to get most of the votes in Whittier. All of that notwithstanding, the tunnel’s a cool idea. It’s one lane wide with railroad tracks down the middle. The single lane alternates between vehicles going in or out, and trains doing the same. As we enter the tunnel, we hope the computer is working correctly, and that we don’t find ourselves nose to nose with an outbound freight train.
The town of Whittier is a wart. A dozen or so tourist traps in a circle at the end of the road—including one souvenir store with two tired reindeer living in a shoebox. The town also had a modern new cruise boat dock. We haven’t seen anything like this before—may have been designed by the same engineer that did the tunnel. The dock looked like a long tube that could be attached to the cruise ship like a lamprey, suck out the tourists, and disgorge them in the center of town. Very efficient.
We waited patiently for the next outbound vehicle flow, returned to the RV and headed toward Anchorage. We have an appointment tomorrow to get the leveler jacks on the Admiral repaired.
On the way we retraced our route along the Turnagain Arm of the Cook Inlet. Not surprisingly its daunting beauty was unchanged. We spent the night about 30 miles south of Anchorage. Tomorrow will be a mostly urban day, and we are not bubbling with eager anticipation.
