Most people know that Alaska is a sparsely populated state. You can ride for miles and see more tractors than people.
After we leave Fairbanks, we decide to stop in Nenana, a small town with about one thousand people total. Its claim to fame: it can offer a "remote experience" and, of course, a railroad museum that focuses on the history of Alaskan railroad.
Nenana's Main Street has a few houses, a grocery store that looks more like a larger than average convenience store and the railroad museum. In the day that's how people came to and left this town--by railroad. In fact, this museum, is a used to be depot.
How do you explain a place like this to Theo? The town sits on the Nenana River (considered to be the interior of Alaska). No animals. Only plenty of opportunities to sniff the bygone past. That's why I want to be here. I love history. I love imagining how life used to be a hundred or more years ago. Theo . . . not so much.
We hightail it over to the museum, a small green planked building with white trim. As you might expect as you walk through the doors, you're immediately transported to a world that doesn't exist anymore. A bustling railroad depot has been preserved for the few tourists that wander in.
"Theo, imagine. There used to be scores of people coming in with their luggage. You bought your ticket here for the train . . ."
For a second Theo looks more interested than he should be. He seems to think that's why we're here now. To buy a ticket and leave. To get out of town.
"Of course, the depot is a museum now."
His momentary excitement fades.
Quickly I reframe the experience. "But there's plenty to sniff, and then we'll get you some snacks."
I put him down and let him wander around.
There's a ticket window. An office area behind wider than wide bars with desks and an old fashioned typewriter.
Theo is in the corner sniffing whatever. Dan and I go into the back "museum space." It's what you would expect--old newspaper stories preserved on the wall, photos of life the way it used to be--snow sleds being pulled by dogs.
We come back to the front and casually I look around. Theo has got to be somewhere. But he seems to have completely disappeared. I don't panic. I've learned my lesson. In fact, I think with a small laugh, maybe he did buy a ticket and is sitting on some imaginary train outside on the tracks.
Dan spots him first. He's jumped up on the ticket counter desk. Not buying a ticket. Oh, no. He's sniffing the small cubbies . . . we grab him.
"Time for snacks."
Finally, we wander over to the "grocery store" for the snacks.
Could I have ever lived in a town like this? It's quaint but so isolated.
But, later as we're leaving I begin to glimpse the town's allure. The scenery is striking. The quiet is profound (except for Theo smacking his lips.) And I begin to understand how someone could live here.
Theo, on the other hand, has a more than serious look on his face. "Where to next?" he wants to know.
Denali National Park. And animals. Yippee!!!
