For years we always just passed through Haines on the way from the ferry up the highway. I didn't know what I was missing until I stopped and took a couple of days to really investigate. Now Haines is one of my favorite Alaska towns.
Haines is casual, happy, and slightly odd. It waits for you to find it, but, once found, it unveils wonderful charms. If you're looking for the mythical town of Cicely from television's Northern Exposure, you'll get closer in Haines than anyplace else I know (in fact, the producers scouted here before choosing to shoot in Roslyn, Washington). As I walked down a sidewalk, I saw a sign in a storefront that said to look in the big tree across the street. I looked, and there was an eagle peering back at me. At the Alaska Indian Arts Native cultural center, seeking an office or a ticket window or someone in charge, I wandered into a totem pole studio where a carver was completing a major commission. He gladly stopped to talk. It turned out there wasn't anyone in charge. Issues that are a big deal in some other towns just aren't in Haines.
Haines's dominant feature, the 1904 Fort William H. Seward, gives the town a pastoral atmosphere. The fort is a collection of grand white-clapboard buildings arranged around a 9-acre parade ground, in the middle of which stands a Tlingit clan house -- out of place, yes, but wonderfully symbolic of Haines. The town is a friendly, accessible center of Tlingit culture, as well as a retired outpost of seemingly pointless military activity.
And Haines has bald eagles -- always plenty of bald eagles and, in the fall, a ridiculous number of bald eagles. More, in fact, than anywhere else on Earth. The chance to see the birds draws people into the outdoors here. There are well-established guides for any activity you might want to pursue, all cooperating and located together. There are some excellent hiking trails right from town, as well as protected sea-kayaking waters. Also, it's worth noting that because of its location in the flow of weather, adjacent to the drier Interior, Haines is not quite as rainy as towns father south.
The big controversy of local politics concerns how firmly Haines should embrace tourism. Some want Haines to remain friendly, funky, and forgotten, while others hope new recognition the town has recently received for its attraction to visitors will help start an economic boom. In 2004, two national magazines listed Haines as one of the best places to go. Having written for travel magazines, I can assure you most of those "best of" lists are entirely bogus, made up off the top of the head over doughnuts in the conference room -- but in this case, they got it right, either letting the cat out of the bag or exposing a suppressed truth, depending on your point of view. Even as tourism growth divides residents, however, another laurel has united them, one that really makes Haines people beam with pride: In 2005, Library Journal and the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation cited Haines's library as the best small library in America. Maybe it's just me, but I think a town that's proudest of its library must have a good heart.
