Tracy Dingmann New PicI know I’m weighing in about a year late on this, but I spent last week tromping around Sarah Palin’s turf and I just have to share what I saw and heard about the tough-talking governor from her friendly constituents in Alaska.

I was in and around Anchorage for a week with my mom and three sisters to visit a fourth sister, who has lived in rural Alaska since 1993.

I really didn’t mean to think about Gov. Palin at all while I was in Alaska, but I couldn’t help it. That sassy gal was all over the news — and not just locally.

In fact, I was sitting at a diner in Wasilla the day David Letterman apologized to Gov. Palin for that stupid joke he made about her daughter. That dust-up was all over the national news for days — and I’m pretty sure it was Gov. Palin who kept it there.

A word about Wasilla — Given its proximity to Anchorage and its strategic location on the main road north, it is pretty hard to avoid.

Wasilla is not a dump, as some reporters who made the trek there after Gov. Palin hit the national scene have said. But it’s not exactly a pinnacle of natural Alaskan beauty and originality, either. I think my Alaskan sister put it best when she described it as “one long strip mall.”

The people in Wasilla were nice. But as much as I tried, I could not find anyone else who talks all twangy like Gov. Palin. There is no Wasilla accent — that is all her, baby.

Alaska is gorgeous in its fleeting summer — trees and plants are lush and green and it literally never gets dark. I found Alaskans to be friendly, knowledgable and eager to talk, not only about typical Alaskan tourist stuff but about politics, too.

So about halfway through my vacation (about the time I got to Wasilla) I reverted to non-vacation behavior and started quizzing people about what they thought of their governor.

Around their kitchen table, I heard my sister and her family say they didn’t really care about politics but were concerned about Gov. Palin’s frequent absences from the state.

From other Alaskans, I heard about the disconnect between Gov. Palin’s national image as a Republican leader and spokeswoman for conservative values versus the way she is viewed by the Alaskans who elected her. Several said they are weary of Gov. Palin’s constant plays for Republican recognition and said they cringe every time she’s hailed as the spokesperson for hardline conservative fiscal policies —  which are often not what most Alaskans want from state and federal government.

I think a big part of how Alaskans feel about government is driven by how isolated and rugged Alaska is compared to other U.S. states and, how, for many Alaskans, mere survival is dependent on services that only government can provide.

Take the Alaska Marine Highway, for example. That’s the name for the 3,500-mile route along Alaska’s southcentral coast covered by the 11 ferries in the Alaska State Ferry system. The Alaska State Ferry provides transportation and freight to a total of 32 communities — most of whom have no roads — along a route that stretches from Bellingham, Washington, through Canada, along Alaska’s Inside Passage and all the way to the Aleutian Islands. The Alaska State Ferry system is run by the state and gets federal highway money.

I confess I knew nothing about the Alaska State Ferry system until I encountered a ferry the day we drove down the Seward Highway to the tiny town of Whittier for a glacier cruise on Prince William Sound.

Whittier is a perfect example of how Alaska is not like anywhere else. The U.S. military created the town as a military installation during WWII because of the area’s strategic location on Prince William Sound.

Today, almost all of its 180 or so residents still live in one high-rise building. Whittier gets an average of 20 feet of snow each winter and it’s virtually impossible to get around. For that reason, there’s a walking tunnel from the residence to the town’s only school.

The only land access to Whittier is through a nearly three mile, one lane tunnel carved through a mountain. Each hour, cars are allowed to go through one way. The next hour, cars are allowed to pass through the other way. It’s a rail tunnel too — so sometimes the wait is very long.

Once we finally got through the tunnel and into Whittier, we caught a small charter boat for our cruise.

We didn’t have to take the Alaska State Ferry, but one came into port just as we were leaving and I was fascinated. But I was also struck at how dependent Alaskans are on public transportation.

Speaking of transportation, did you know those silly Alaskans are trying to build another “Bridge to Nowhere?” Not the original one, which was a bridge that would have connected Ketchikan in the south to an airport on Gravina Island.

No, this bridge would span a long, narrow fjord and connect Anchorage to pristine land on the other side — replacing a dangerous, circuitous existing route and providing safe transportation and freight delivery for thousands of Alaskans who choose to live in the state’s most populous corridor.

I found out about that as I was leaving Alaska. My friendly and talkative seatmate on the plane was an Alaska Native who told me he was born in Anchorage but his mother was from Nunavik Island, making him a proud member of the extremely rare Cup’it clan, a sub-group of the larger tribe of Yupik people.

He was reading the Anchorage Daily News and this headline caught my eye: “Knik Arm Bridge Is Essential to New Growth.” I asked him if that was the famous “Bridge to Nowhere” we all kept hearing about during the election.

“No, but some people are calling it that,” he said disgustedly. And then he explained why this proposed bridge is so important to the increasing number of Alaskans who chose to live on the other side of the Knik Arm from Anchorage — and why regular Alaskans like him are so tired of Gov. Palin turning issues like these into political catchphrases for her Republican friends to drool over.

Transportation in Alaska can be a matter of life and death, said my new friend. It shouldn’t be made into a political football.

But if Gov. Palin stays on the stage, I bet we’ll be hearing about this “Bridge to Nowhere,” too.

To everyone I interrogated in Alaska, I’m sorry! But I had a great time and I learned a lot. Thanks for talking to me!

Editor’s note: Click on any picture in the above slideshow to read a caption.