A quick note about Whittier, since we mostly passed through rather than lingered: it’s one of those places that feels more like a fascinating footnote than a full chapter. Nearly everyone lives in one building—the Begich Towers—and you reach town via the wonderfully odd Anton Anderson Memorial Tunnel, a one-lane tunnel that takes turns deciding who gets to go, all set on a half-hour schedule.
Tucked into Prince William Sound, it has that misty, slightly mysterious feel—like a place that doesn’t mind being overlooked. We didn’t explore it properly, but it left just enough of an impression to make me curious.
We arrived in Whittier under a soft, steady snowfall—the kind that makes everything feel hushed and just a little magical. It was overcast, cold, and very Alaska.
We joined our excursion, in two large vans, drove thought Whittier, then we drove through the tunnel.
And like flipping a switch, the weather changed.
On the other side, the skies began to open, patches of blue appeared, and before long we had actual sunshine. Not blazing, tropical sunshine – this is still Alaska – but enough to make you appreciate the drama of it all. One side: moody and gray. The other: “oh look, we do have color.”
This being a photo adventure, we stopped often – sometimes for grand views, sometimes for the promise of something with legs.
Moose, as it turns out.
Our first sighting resulted in what can only be described as artfully composed rear-end photography. There is, apparently, a moment when a group of photographers collectively decides, “Yes, this is worth stopping for,” even if the subject is facing the wrong direction.
Later, someone spotted a cow and her two-year-old calf. Our driver quickly turned us around and we got to see them moving through the bush. We then turned back around and parked at the national forest hiking trail head and our group gamely hiked out to see if they find them… and did not. The moose, clearly, had other plans. Alaska 1, photographers 0.
I had stayed back in the van, which was a mistake. Alan later reported that they got to see the remnants of an avalanche, and also a pretty area filled with mossy rocks and trees. He got a very nice photo with his phone of that one.
At one point, we paused at what can only be described as the Alaskan version of a “one-stop everything” place: convenience store, bakery, souvenir shop, Subway, pizza place – something for every level of need and craving. We had about 30 minutes to scatter and reconvene. I, naturally, found Diet Dr Pepper for Alan. His level of happiness suggested I had just secured us a lifetime achievement award.
We also pulled over near the Alaska Wildlife Conservation Center when someone spotted a brown bear. There’s something about the words “brown bear” that causes an entire group to move with surprising efficiency.
Throughout the day, we drove through the kind of landscapes Alaska does so effortlessly – waterfalls, ancient forests that, and sweeping views framed by the Chugach Mountains and Kenai Mountains. It’s the sort of scenery that makes you take far too many photos and still feel like you didn’t quite capture it.
Eventually, we made our way back through the tunnel – back to the overcast side, where the snow and gray skies were waiting patiently for us to return.
We didn’t explore Whittier itself, but after lunch Alan headed back out, camera in hand, in search of birds – because of course he did. Some people collect souvenirs. We collect sightings.
A day that started in snowfall and ended in sunshine (and then back again, just to keep things interesting). A few moose, one sky bear – cooperative only on their terms. And one very successful Diet Dr Pepper mission.
All in all, a very Alaska kind of day.