“Breathtaking!” was the verdict of a fellow passenger as the Alaska Railroad train emerged from the tunnel, opening onto a sweeping vista of rugged mountain peaks and the shining paths of Bartlett and Trail glaciers. We were approaching the Grandview area on the Coastal Classic route traversing 114 miles from Anchorage, along Turnagain Arm and south to Seward on the Kenai Peninsula, a route which treats travelers to views of some of Alaska’s most awe-inspiring scenery.

During another trip, this time heading north from Anchorage into Alaska’s heartland, passengers stared down from a spidery trestle into 290-foot-deep Hurricane Gulch. “Wow, I wouldn’t want to fall down there!” exclaimed one passenger, gazing into the Chulitna River valley far below the train. This view of the gorge from the 384-foot-long deck-arch routinely inspires such comments. Other dramatic scenes throughout the Alaska Range, and the possibility that weather conditions may permit a much-coveted sight of Mount McKinley, are high points of the 12-hour, 356-mile Denali Star Anchorage-Fairbanks run.

“This is our lifeline,” one woman said at a hearing held in 2002 to determine whether the railroad would curtail Hurricane, the flag-stop train between Talkeetna and Hurricane. “Without the train, we wouldn’t be able to get to town to shop or go to the doctor.” Another Bush dweller added, “We’d pay a high price for the right to live off the beaten track.” Fortunately for these people and others who live along the roadless miles north of Talkeetna, railroad representatives paid attention to their testimonies. Despite the high cost of maintaining the last regular flag-stop run in the nation, it was agreed to continue this service which enables residents to pursue their preferred lifestyle in wilderness Alaska.

The 87-year-old railroad has been a major player in the settling and development of the state. Before construction of the line was begun by the federal government, the future city of Anchorage did not exist. As the tracks extended throughout the Southcentral and Interior regions, several communities, including Fairbanks, Nenana, Talkeetna and Seward, grew and flourished under its influence. The line became a financial asset for the first time in 1935 and thereafter remained fiscally sound, requiring no further congressional appropriations to continue profitable operation. The U.S. government owned and operated the railroad until its transfer in 1985 to the State of Alaska. Like its substantial contribution to the state’s development, the importance of the railroad in the growth and health of tourism cannot be overstated.

The railroad offers a variety of tours that interact with cruise packages and other forms of recreation and transportation. Companies such as Princess and Holland America Line piggyback their self-contained luxury rail cars on the Alaska Railroad for pre- or post-cruise land tours, offering tourists the opportunity to see Alaska’s scenic wonders in comfort as the trains amble on their leisurely treks north from Seward or south from Fairbanks. Mountains, rivers, forests, glaciers stagger the mind and nourish the soul. Odds are excellent for seeing. On one trip north we counted 7 moose, 1 caribou, numerous species of birds and waterfowl, and, quite surprising, 2 nonchalant young grizzlies relaxing just a few yards from the tracks near Denali National Park.

Independent travelers fill the summertime tour trains, enjoying comfortable seating, fine dining service and up-close views through the train’s huge windows. A definite asset of summer travel is the active presence on the rail cars of well-trained young guides who enliven the trips with historical anecdotes, entertaining passengers with their knowledge, energy and good humor. In an unavoidable delay during one northbound trip, these personable teens enhanced the long wait with their creative skits and songs. Rain and heavy clouds obscured the scenery during that trip, so with attention drawn away from the usually intriguing wilderness panorama outside the windows, it seemed an excellent opportunity to read up on the background of the rail line.

Reading about the engineering challenges during construction of the Alaska Railroad injects a sense of history and adventure into our present peaceful rail journey. Those early railroad engineers encountered a mind-boggling assortment of problems, from river undercuts, bank erosion and landslides to melting permafrost, sinkholes and glaciers. Winter ice and snow slides on the Grandview Loop—a 7-mile spiral of track traversing 5 trestle bridges and a tunnel on the Anchorage to Seward rail line—resulted in such exorbitant operation costs it had to be rerouted in 1951.

The dramatic beauty of the Grandview area is well recognized and appreciated. For several decades cross-country skiers have reveled in the pure snows of Grandview’s glacial setting on late-winter excursions provided by special “ski trains.” In 2003 the ski trains will head to Curry, north of Talkeetna, rather than to Grandview, limited winter maintenance of the southerly route cited as the reason for the change of venue.

The Alaska Geographic Society’s publication, Alaska’s Railroads, contains a photo of 9 Cantwell women who were employed by the railroad for about 6 years after WWII as gandy dancers, a phrase that holds a certain mystique. According to some dictionaries, origin of the term is unknown, but one Webster’s suggests its possible relation to the tool-making Gandy Manufacturing Company of Chicago. The “dancing” was back-breaking work along the Cantwell rail section, maintaining the road bed, swinging massive mauls (gandies?), setting spikes, tamping ties and carrying out other duties essential for “dressing track.” The Athabascan women who signed on for this heavy manual labor were highly regarded for their strength, abilities and integrity.

Even the most impressive statistics cannot convey the true value of the railroad to those who depend upon the service. “Trains captivate people of all ages,” states an article in Alaska’s Railroads, and many other sources also recognize the romance of rail travel. “I always meet such nice people on the train,” a friend once said, and I had no trouble concurring with that view, as that has also been my own experience during many years in Alaska. More than one lasting friendship originated in random railway journeys, from “good old days” in the Interior rail-and-river town of Nenana to more recent trips from Anchorage to Seward and Fairbanks.

As a break in the clouds suddenly raised the curtain on an awesome glimpse of the Alaska Range, a nearby passenger waxed lyrical, drawing us out of musings about ski trains, moose-goosing and gandy dancers. Thoroughly enchanted, the woman para-phrased Frost’s “fence” philosophy, lilting, “Someone there is who doesn’t love a train!”

Some years ago I actually overheard that rare “someone” who doesn’t love a train. On a trip from Anchorage to Fairbanks, a young couple sat directly behind me: a man, apparently new to the state, and a woman, obviously a seasoned Alaskan. The man loudly criticized the practice of a railroad that would “stop any old place to pick up people, fishermen, hunters, anybody, anywhere, and let them off in the wilds, in the middle of nowhere, anyplace they wanted.” The woman quickly responded, “Thank goodness! Thank goodness there’s one place like this left in the world!”

Thank goodness, indeed, for a service that respects the needs of residents and the comfort, safety and pleasure of all its travelers. Its tracks opened the vast territory to development and progress, and the railroad continues to support the state’s economic health and to open the splendors of Alaska to everyone who crowds the window views of its signature blue and gold rail cars. As the railroad ads urge, “You just gotta ride this train!” We second the motion.