FlyerTalk Forums

I’d been intrigued by the idea of ADK ever since seeing it off the edge of the AS route map. The fares are pretty steep (extremely steep), but I had a BTT and with some slight bending of the rules (3 segments and a forced overnight in each direction) managed to book for Labor Day. My itin was DCA-SEA-ANC-ADK and back – about as far as you can go by Eskimo, and I managed to persuade a sporting friend to come along. (He used miles).

A little background on Adak, from what I’ve read: it’s about 2/3 of the way down the Aleutians, almost at the meridian. It became a wildlife refuge in 1913 but was pretty much ignored until WW II, when the Japanese attacked Dutch Harbor and occupied nearby Attu and Kiska. In response, the Army took over the northern part of the island, which it used as a base to counterattack. At one point, according to a plaque in the town, there were 90,000 troops on the island. The military stayed for the Cold War (logically), using Adak for assorted mysterious purposes that included submarine surveillance and communications. In 1997 they pulled out, and the population plummeted from about 6,000 to about 100.

The military (northern) part of the island was turned over to the Aleut Corporation, one of the Alaskan native corporations, from whom we had to buy permits to be on the land. The corporation is desperately trying to generate business there, but so far without much success. They’re trying to make its position a selling point (“halfway between Seattle and Japan!”) but transport and other costs are obviously extremely high. Even the biweekly AS service exists only because of a huge federal subsidy ($8,000 per one way flight at the time it was set). Some additional activity will come shortly, with the return of the Navy – its immense X-Band radar will be based there (ironically, it’s on a Russian-built oil platform, and is currently being towed over from Texas).

I won’t report in detail on the outbound flights, which were pretty routine – by which I mean a poorly-handled 2½ hour mechanical delay at DCA and a consequent misconnect in SEA. On an aircraft that was less than three weeks old (557). Fortunately, they held the final ANC flight of the night, so we stumbled into ANC at 1:30 local, or 5:30 EDT. Great! Surprisingly, my bag also made it, although the time between chocking in at SEA and pushing back was only about 15 minutes. A great relief, since having no food or clothing in ADK might not be much fun.

ANC-AKN-ADK AS138 B737-2Q8C N741AS (21959)

Although its often delayed or cancelled, the ADK flight was showing on time, happily, as was my friend’s inbound from SEA (well, close enough). A handful of pax were sitting around the gate area, the most prominent a group of half a dozen or so hunters. (I guess they need to wear all of their camouflage stuff on the plane to show how macho they are, or perhaps so TSA can’t spot them). Almost all leisure visitors to ADK (by which I mean a handful) go to kill caribou, a couple dozen of which were introduced by the Navy in the late 1950s. The herd has grown significantly (approaching 3,000 at last count), and is trampling parts of the island. With no predators (there were no indigenous ground mammals) they are the largest caribou in Alaska. The record is 800 lbs.

Appropriately, the walkway to the plane was marked with caribou hoofprints, like Tim’s on Alaska.com. Our aircraft was configured for 56 pax, which I was later told was more than usual. I’ll miss the Combis. There were only 25 on board, though, so I moved to the bulkhead; unfortunately, the door to the side passage was closed. We were told that winds in Adak were calm, and that we’d first stop in King Salmon for fuel and what I heard as “PSAs”.

During the quick hop we were offered orange juice cups and Spinzels, followed by water, followed by coffee. Flying time was just 49 minutes, although it was disappointingly cloudy so we couldn’t see much before the marshy-looking area around AKN. We were told that refueling would take quite a while, so we were free to leave the aircraft. The F/As recommended a gift ship in the terminal, which sold knives. Huh?

From the terminal, we watched a NAC 727 unloading a jeep onto what looked like the world’s oldest and rustiest functioning truck. Aaah, Alaska. Only two pax deplaned in AKN, and we picked up only two others – TSA agents. THAT’s what the F/A had said. And it explained why we stopped at AKN, which already has 4x daily service from ANC on Penair. TSAgents and fuel. Jet-A apparently costs $4.70 on ADK.

The F/As told us that although nothing had changed they needed to do the safety briefing again. Once in the air they offered a snack, consisting of a turkey and goopy cheese sandwich, with TGIF Mozzarella Snack Sticks and a coconut/white chocolate cookie. This time it came in a basket, along with psalm107:1. (The baskets seem to have vanished from transcons). There were a couple of glimpses of mountains and sea through the clouds, but not much, until shortly before landing there was a stunning view of a nearby volcano, but on the wrong side.

We landed ahead of schedule, with the fire truck shadowing us during the landing roll. On the terminal was a famous sign that had apparently read “Welcome to Adak, Alaska. Birthplace of the Winds.” But half of it had blown away, so it now reads “Adak, Alaska. the winds.” The winds frequently cause the flight to cancel, although the temperatures are fairly moderate – Adak is, after all, the southernmost settlement in Alaska. Really. A Fish and Wildlife brochure describes the weather as “characterized by precipitation, fog, high winds, and frequent, often violent cyclonic storms.” But we were to enjoy sunny blue skies, moderate temperatures, and little wind. Very, very lucky.

There are no hotels in Adak – instead, the housing authority rents out the old military housing units. We headed over to ours – a two bedroom, 2½ bath townhouse that could have been in any slightly aging U.S. suburb. On the counter was a copy of the local phone directory – all three pages of it. After settling in, we explored the town – it’s quite large, mostly bounded by the two runways, the sea, and some mountains. It’s also mostly abandoned, with lots of housing units vacant, along with many of the larger buildings – the huge gym and pool, clinic, McDonalds, airport hangars, warehouses, etc., etc… Besides the few housing units still occupied and the terminal, there was a school (which also contained the post, town and housing offices and the clinic, as well as a video store and a bait store/bakery/restaurant), a general store, liquor store, and a bar and grill. Food in the general store was breathtakingly expensive -- $7.99 for a pint of ice ream, for example.

Some of the housing units had had the siding blown off them. We returned to the airport area to watch the plane leave, along with a Coast Guard C-130 that had been on the ground when we arrived. After they were gone there was a strange sense of isolation, knowing that the next plane wouldn’t land until Sunday – and then only if the weather remained good.

The following day was for hiking. We headed out along the seashore, enjoying the views of hills that looked like a combination of Ireland (green, cliffs) and Hawaii (volcanic and creviced). There are virtually no trees; instead it’s covered with an abundance of grasses, lichens and mosses, and lots and lots of wildflowers. Near the threshold of the runway, the braver of us walked onto the approach light pier to get pictures of three bald eagles perched there, two mature and one first–year. We continued along a scenic beach, picking up some huge shells and watching salmon running in the mouth of a stream.

As we turned a corner, we suddenly saw a magnificent snow-capped volcano/island rising from the deep blue sea. It was Great Sitkin, the volcano we’d seen from the plane. We then turned inland to explore the shores of the Sand Lagoon, in which we saw seals and sea otters frolicking. We walked most of the way around the lagoon, deciding not to detour to the top of Mount Adagdak, the island’s second-highest peak (which I wanted to do but my friend didn’t). Along the way we came upon a large abandoned military facility, which we explored for a while. A map I saw later suggested that it had been a submarine communications center. As we passed it, the few clouds began to clear, giving us a view of the top of Mt. Moffett, at 3,900 feet the tallest point on the island.

We eventually returned to town after about 10 hours, the unexpected sunburn a small price to pay for such a great day. For dinner, we decided to visit the bar and grill. There didn’t seem to be any grilling taking place (or deep-frying, which seemed to characterize the menu better) and the word “dive” would be a charitable description, so we had a drink and returned to our place for dinner. I feasted on Alaskan salmon. Chicken of the Sea.

The following day, we headed in the opposite direction towards an inland lake. First, the road took us to a long, narrow and gorgeous bay, called Finger Bay for obvious reasons. Well, we didn’t actually hike there – we accepted a ride from Fish and Wildlife. (People on the island were exceedingly friendly, and virtually never drove by without a friendly wave and an offer of a ride if they were going in the same direction). From the end of the road we walked a muddy trail through the lush green hills to the pleasant lake, prosaically named Lake Betty. Most of the trail followed a stream, which itself looked alive, thronged with salmon thrashing their way upstream to spawn.

We decided not to try to circumnavigate the lake due to the muddy conditions, and instead began the walk back. Afterwards I walked back out to the beach area, where an eagle was again perched on the approach light structure and which posed for some unbelievable pictures. I didn’t even need my zoom lens.

The next day was already our last, weather permitting. After breakfast and some packing, we headed to the airport to check in. It was a bit windy and there was some low fog, but we were relieved to hear that the flight would be operating, although late. The incoming was expected at about 2:30, apparently because of fog at King Salmon. My checkin was a bit messy, since I had only one BTT flight coupon remaining for the three segments. After a brief phone call, the agent pulled the coupon and merely wrote “BTT pulled” on each boarding pass, even though they all said “FLIGHT COUPON REQUIRED.” Not promising. I had the impression she’d never seen a BTT before.

With the morning available we looked around the school building a bit. I saw one notice indicating that the federal government was planning to reclassify Adak as rural, citing a 94% drop in population between the 1990 to 2000 censuses and the fact that it is an “extremely remote island community.” I then went for a walk around the dock area, where I saw a couple of fishing boats, a couple of tugs in apparently good condition (who mans them?) and a vast field of abandoned, rusting vehicles, including – poignantly – a Reeve Aleutian pickup. Some of the vehicles even had moss growing on them.

ADK-AKN-ANC AS139 B737-290C N742AS (23136)

We returned to the airport at about 2:15, since we wanted to watch the inbound land, but it surprised us a few moments later. Turnaround was a slow process. They were fueling the aircraft from a truck (perhaps a full load from King Salmon isn’t enough) while loading the igloos in front, using a forklift. Meanwhile, the two TSAgents who had been on the inbound were in a back room hand-searching the outgoing baggage. This took a rather long time, after which they were ready to hand search the passengers and carryons. (There was a magnetometer). Meanwhile, the F/As had gone off on a minitour, while the captain and the mechanic (one rides on each flight) were milling about, talking on the phone etc. On one wall was a poem which compared the Aleutians to Hell, on another was a really nice Reeve mural.

It was unclear what was going on. In view of the delay, I thought we might skip King Salmon on the return – as they had done the previous week – especially when the fuel truck returned and they began unloading the igloos that they’d just loaded. (I know they sometimes need ballast up there, so not clear what the story was). It was obvious that we’d all misconnect in SEA, so we were called to the counter; the agent however refused to rebook the two of us because there were no seats in the appropriate buckets. After a brief discussion, we told her we’d deal with it in ANC, rather than wait for the redeye she offered.

Eventually we boarded, and were greeted by the same F/A who had brought us out. She later told me that she specializes in the ADK run, interspersing it with the charters to the Red Dog zinc mine, until recently AS’ last gravel destination. (Our aircraft had the gravel kit still installed). I was happy to be on 742, the aircraft that brought me to Alaska the first time I went, in 1990, flying SEA-KTN on the first leg of the milk run.

With all 31 pax onboard and the igloos reloaded, we headed out. The captain drew chuckles when he announced that we were #1 for takeoff, and we were in the air at 4:20, more than two hours behind schedule. Again, we were served beverages and the hot turkey sandwich, this time on a soft roll with plain chips but the same cookie. And again in the basket, this time with 69:30. Also on the flight were a rather loud and obnoxious group of hunters, headed home to Idaho Falls. There was a fishing crew person, the Fish and Wildlife agent who’d given us their last hiking map, and an FAA employee to whom I’d chatted while waiting for screening. Plus the two TSAgents, and a supervisory F/A.

The crew told us that the AKN stop would be brief, since not much fuel was needed for the short hop back to ANC. Once a Penair got out of our way (lotsa Pens there), the TSAgents deplaned and we were gassed up to go. (Takeoff performance was really excellent on the return legs, presumably because of the light load – in ADK I’d noticed that we were in the air before the 4,000 feet marker). We were offered beverages and Spinzels, and enjoyed nice views of the sunset and the mountains as we approached ANC, touching down at about 9:10, 2:30 late.

We headed over to the 9:40 SEA flight, whose agent was happy to accommodate us – in First. Entertainingly, she then noticed the lack of a flight coupon, and after a bit of a discussion – “that’s supposed to work?,” she asked about the “BTT pulled” designation – she issued a FIM and sent me aboard. This flight was a special treat partly because of Carmen, our wonderful F/A, and partly because we were treated to a show of the northern lights. We got to SEA at 2:10 a.m. and after a long wait for our bags – which hadn’t made the connection and which the baggage agents knew hadn’t made the connection – I headed to a nearby hotel for a bit of sleep. Flight 4 to DCA the following morning was pretty routine, after a lengthy discussion with the agent about the need for a FIM. (A supe eventually took care of it). My luggage arrived two days later.

All in all, a fantastic trip. And well timed. The ADK flight after ours was cxld, apparently due to the 48 m.p.h. winds gusting to 61. Three extra days for those lucky folk. And the weekend after returning I picked up another BTT. DUT next summer.