Minneapolis to Anchorage

Alaska. Or Alaxsxaq, the Great Land, as it was known to the first inhabitants of the Aleutian Islands. And they would know, for their ancestors had traveled far: from the eastern steppes of Siberia farther and farther East, until they finally crossed the Bering Straight and made their way down the coast of their new continent and eventually followed the Aleutian Islands back westwards until they could go no farther. It was they who greeted the first European explorers and told them the name of this great new frontier, which is now the last, according to the license plates of its present residents.

Whether or not the Aleutians were actually aware of the true vastness of this peninsula, which is large enough to be called a sub-continent by some, the name is certainly appropriate. Descriptions of Alaska invariably end in superlatives. Alaska is, for example, the largest of the United States. If it were split in half, Texas would still only be the third largest state. Alaska is the westernmost, easternmost, and northernmost state. 10,000 lakes? How does three million sound? And yet, for all its size, only North Dakota, Vermont, and Wyoming have fewer human residents than Alaska's 670,000. This, then, is Alaska: a juxtaposition of extremes, in which nature with its crass geology, large animals, and sheer size dwarfs the tiny human development that has taken hold here over the millenia.

But I get ahead of myself. We left Minneapolis on the very last Sun Country flight of the brief 2007 season. Sun Country usually means a relatively relaxing Humphrey Terminal at the Minneapolis/St. Paul airport, direct flights, snacks on board, and friendly staff. And so it was today, the check-in line was non-existent, and neither was the security line. The Monday after Labor Day must not be the most popular travel day of the year, fancy that. The airplane was half empty, and the almost six hour long flight turned out to be quite enjoyable.

Leaving Minneapolis

Not only was the flight enjoyable because it was not very crowded, but it was a beautiful day across North America, and we were treated to some beautiful views of, at first, our friendly neighbors to the North, and then what we had come to see: Alaska.

Oh, Canada

Into the Great Wide Open

Little Italy?

The Harding Icefield

The weather was so good that we could even see Mount Denali on the horizon as we descended into Anchorage. Anchorage itself is not much to write home about, in my opinion. To me, it mostly stands out as the great FedEx transportation hub through which all the tasty Apple products pass on their way from China to Minneapolis when ordered online.

Millions and millions of iPods served daily

At the airport, we quickly picked up our rental car for the week, a Dodge Caliber. If you ever wonder what is wrong with the American car industry, go ahead and rent a 2007 Dodge Caliber, and all your questions will be answered. It is a true lesson in complacency. Remember when we used to laugh at the Japanese cars? Nobody is laughing anymore. Except the Japanese, of course. The Koreans are next, and then the Chinese. How you can seriously expect to stay in business if you make cars like the Dodge Caliber is beyond my comprehension. That's really all I have to say about that anymore.

We checked into the Voyager Hotel, which I cannot quite recommend because the non-smoking rooms smelled pretty smokey, but it was okay. A stroll through Anchorage's downtown mostly revealed how small the town is and how insignificant its history, in the grand scheme of things. Alaska, it seems, is all about the outdoors, nature. People are an afterthought at best, unless they carry and spill over a million barrels of oil, as did the Exxon Valdez on that fateful spring day in 1989.

Well, we are here. Tomorrow we head North, towards Talkeetna, and ultimately Healy, outside Denali National Park. Then we will see the Alaska for which we came here, the one that was promised us by the views from the airplane.