And so the cruise portion of the trip ended. I enjoyed my time on the ship, but I’ve said over and again, going to Alaska on someone else’s schedule is really not the best way to go. To experience this place, better to go there with a general idea of a route, then take your time. The sun shines up to 18 hours a day in Alaska, and being rushed through little samples of it, while having certain advantages, leaves something to be desired. You’ve got time, which is one of Alaska’s great advantages.
A cruise ship the last night is a sailing contradiction. The passengers all spend most of that night in their room. You have to put your bags out the by 10pm the night before. Then, by 7am, its time to leave. So the last night is dinner, then a frantic rush to pack. College Fjord is not far at all from the cruises’s last stop, Whittier, which just on the other end of Port Wells. It’s about 52 miles. I got up to go to the bathroom in the middle of what there was of the night, and stole a peek off the balcony. We were nearing the port, and I could see the lights of Whittier off in the not too far distance, the end of the sailing voyage was approaching. If my camera weren’t so tightly packed away I would have shot a few frames of it. It was such a stark contrast to the festive mood that dominated the trip.
So 5:54am came earlier than I could have imagined, and after we spent the morning walking around the room like zombies, mindlessly bumping into each other, we were herded into the auditorium, then the next thing I knew I was nursing a Coke Zero on a train as it traversed a dark tunnel.
Soon we would emerge from the darkness, and the sun would come out, and the clouds of the early morning would give way to a brilliant Alaskan summer sun. My camera was still tightly packed, at my feet under our table. Eventually the instinct finally took over, but at that hour, the motivation just wasn’t there.
We hurtled through Anchorage, then zipped past Wasilla, and chugged onward north into the vast Alaskan wilderness, headed for Denali National Park. I have to stop here a moment and say something about this picture. This picture was taken in Wasilla, which we only saw from a moving train. We got through the entire place in less than 2 minutes, and I never imagined I would have gotten anything worth keeping.
A cruise ship the last night is a sailing contradiction. The passengers all spend most of that night in their room. You have to put your bags out the by 10pm the night before. Then, by 7am, its time to leave. So the last night is dinner, then a frantic rush to pack. College Fjord is not far at all from the cruises’s last stop, Whittier, which just on the other end of Port Wells. It’s about 52 miles. I got up to go to the bathroom in the middle of what there was of the night, and stole a peek off the balcony. We were nearing the port, and I could see the lights of Whittier off in the not too far distance, the end of the sailing voyage was approaching. If my camera weren’t so tightly packed away I would have shot a few frames of it. It was such a stark contrast to the festive mood that dominated the trip.
So 5:54am came earlier than I could have imagined, and after we spent the morning walking around the room like zombies, mindlessly bumping into each other, we were herded into the auditorium, then the next thing I knew I was nursing a Coke Zero on a train as it traversed a dark tunnel.
Soon we would emerge from the darkness, and the sun would come out, and the clouds of the early morning would give way to a brilliant Alaskan summer sun. My camera was still tightly packed, at my feet under our table. Eventually the instinct finally took over, but at that hour, the motivation just wasn’t there.
We hurtled through Anchorage, then zipped past Wasilla, and chugged onward north into the vast Alaskan wilderness, headed for Denali National Park. I have to stop here a moment and say something about this picture. This picture was taken in Wasilla, which we only saw from a moving train. We got through the entire place in less than 2 minutes, and I never imagined I would have gotten anything worth keeping.
We would have more time in Talkeetna the next day. For now, the mission was to make way to the Denali Princess Lodge, where we would spend a decidedly lower-key evening than we had gotten used to. When I got there, I noticed a huge deck with telescopes mounted on the rail, pointed northward. I figured that’s where the mountain, Denali, could be seen on rare occasion of its appearance. I noticed several people taking seats there on the deck, and I wondered what was up.
Turns out they were sitting out there just staring off into the cloudy distance, hoping to catch a glimpse of the mountain. Whether you do or not is largely dependent on fortune. Soon I heard people buzzing, and noticed some pointing. I couldn’t make it out at first, and I pestered the guy next to me, who was nice enough to point, and point again, and then again as I still couldn’t see anything. Then, after staring some more, I saw it. The clouds were slowly giving way, just enough to see one jagged edge.
The last time we were in Alaska, I saw Denali three different times. From the train, which was an extraordinarily rare sighting according to the guide on that trip who informed us of our luck by telling us she had a guy on her last trip who came to Alaska 29 years running just so he could see Denali, and as of that date he still had not found success. And here we were the first time up, with the very first chance possible, and there it was. Then we saw it again in the park, and one more time after that.
So here I was 40 miles away from it and there it was coming out for me again. I hustled back to the room and grabbed my gear, and also called my Aunt Sharon in her room to tell her what was happening. By the time I got back, the mountain was in full, thrilling view. I happily shot about 200 frames before giving up. And I did take time to stop and just look at it. Very humbling experience.
And the pictures, all 200+ of them, came out like crap.
The haze was just really too much. I mean, we were 40 miles away. Between you and the mountain is 40 miles worth of haze. I'm posting the original RAW digital negative file so you can see what I am talking about. Getting anything worth looking at from these pictures would turn out to be a massive salvage operation, more so even than other days in this project.
Thankfully, I did manage squeeze a little something out of what little I had. It took another crash Photoshop course, and did lot of experimenting, and starting over, and more experimenting. But, I ended up getting something worth keeping and we wouldn’t see the mountain again the rest of the trip. I wonder if that poor guy from back in 1996 ever got to see it...
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