Ch 10, Pt 3: "Abercrombie Rapids Landing"

Chapter 10, Pt 3:   "Abercrombie Rapids Landing"

The images below can be clicked for larger photo or drawing

Dip netting for salmon along the Abercrombie Rapids.  --UAF, E.B. Schrock, 84-80-38 Across the river from us was a long, steep cliff wall. To our backs was a similar rocky wall rising through heavy-growth willows and alders and other brush near the track grade until the rocky surface in its extreme height left its plant coverings behind. According to Dad’s map, the ridge rose to about 3500 feet, shooting nearly straight up from the narrow river base. The narrow canyon could get very dark during the night time, though this time of year the sun barely dipped below the horizon over the ocean. Instead we viewed long shadows which made the river almost invisible as everything dimmed for a few hours. I could barely see the most distant snowshed from our campsite as the shadows filled in the lowest parts of the canyon. That snowshed tunnel was the first one to be completed in this section of the five new ones which would ultimately be constructed. The frame of the second was already a heavy timber skeleton, while the third one existed only as a large pile of large timbers sitting in neat rows beside the tracks. Those were the only ones we could see. 1939 aerial of the Million Dollar Bridge, mile 49, looking northeast in the direction of mile 55, Abercrombie Rapids Landing, of which the southern end is the first cut seen in the photo.  NOTE: The larger picture to which this one is linked is very large in order to show details that are available in the original high-resolution image.  --UAF, Bradford Washburn Collection, #2093 Beyond the canyon to the southeast we could see tall peaks in the distance. These appeared to be permanently capped with snow. It was pitch black to our north, but light to the south revealed the summits of some of the southeastern peaks of the Chugach Range. They were highlighted by the long rays of the very distant sun setting over the Gulf of Alaska. Then I could hear it. I’d been waiting for that sound. Somewhere in the  darkness to our south a work train was  rumbling towards us. That  unmistakable first faint sound was the announcement coming from the  steam whistle. Most likely we were hearing the whistle from somewhere  near the  Million Dollar Bridge, five miles south of us. Tomorrow we would   cross that famous bridge.  The canyon opened up just north of the steel bridge, which was five miles south of us. The railroad steam sounds carried right through the  canyon according to Dad. He was right.  It would not be too long before   I would be able to feel the rumble of that train coming through the steel tracks. Continue