Camping in Anchorage

We arrived at Elmendorf AFB along with the Thunderbirds and the Blue Angels who were providing an air show for the entire city to enjoy. Because of the show, no rooms were available at the Base Lodge. We decided to purchase a bigger tent at the PX and stay in the Famcamp. It is located in the forest; the sites are large, and we were assigned a convenient site next to a heated bath house and laundry. We pitched our new “igloo” and left for downtown Anchorage and the famous weekend market. As we strolled past the numerous vendors, we were treated to flyovers by the Thunderbirds. They swooped overhead and then split off dramatically; one flew straight up, another spiraled toward the ground, and the other two streaked toward the AFB. Later in the afternoon the roaring Blue Angels formation swooped so close that we could easily read the gold “US NAVY” painted on blue. Our hearts skipped a couple of beats! God Bless America.

The market is on a bluff overlooking the Alaska Railroad Station. Railroading is still big in Alaska due to its vastness and limited highways. The railroad had its beginning in 1915. President Wilson decided that the route would go between Seward and Fairbanks. That was the year that Anchorage had its beginning with a tent city at the site of the current depot. A little vintage, picturesque engine sits in front of the station. We were told that it is fully operative. See our Nenana and Talkeetna posts for more details on the railroad.

On the hillside, we visited the Alaska Statehood Monument, a giant bronze eagle with President Eisenhower’s image imbedded within its folded wings. Alaska became the 49th state in 1959 during Ike’s presidency.

We returned to our camp site to find a moose cow and her calf walking along the edge of the trees near our tent. We watched as they grazed for quite some time and then faded into the woods. We made tea and munched on cookies in front of our campfire while we played cards and enjoyed the sunset until 10 p.m. Later, as we snuggled, warm and dry, in our sleeping bags, the familiar sound of rain drops speckled the roof of our tent.