The big plus -- as anyone who got stuck in a fair-bound conga line this weekend or wandered through the acres-of-cars fairground parking lots trying to recall where they left the car may guess -- involves avoiding the traffic.

The big minus is the cost: $49 for adults, $25 for children ages 6 to 12, $20 for anyone younger. For a couple with two kids, one in each age group, that's $143. Add another $45 if a senior citizen joins your party, and you're approaching $200. The Alaska Railroad round-trip package includes admission to the fair, which would be $32 for the above group. Drivers also have to pay $5 to park and, in the case of my family Subaru Forester, about $12 for gas. So the cost for the above party of five would be $49 if we drove packed in the Subaru, more if we took the Lincoln -- if we owned a Lincoln.

When you take the train, however, you might need to add the cost of parking at the Anchorage train station, which is at least $10. I parked at a meter on Fourth Avenue and trotted down the long, long staircase to the old depot on First. Since it was Saturday, the meter cost nothing.

The depot swarmed with bodies taking tour trains to various destinations that morning. Passengers were cautioned against getting on the wrong cars. At 8:45 a.m. the fair train conductor called "All aboard!" and a chorus of kids answered "Whoooo-whoooo!" as the queue shuffled onto the loading platform.

Romantic-rail buffs expecting a locomotive, caboose, diner and a couple of cattle cars holding some heifers and maybe a couple of hobos would be disappointed. The fair train consists of two self-propelled diesel cars, more a trolley than a train. There's no bar, coffee stand or pop machine onboard. The old-fashioned water dispensers didn't work. But the bathrooms (one per car) did.

Seating was assigned, and both cars were at capacity. Still, the worst seat on a train beats the best seat in a car or plane. You can get up and walk out the kinks or hang around the open windows where the cars join to get a snootful of fresh air.

The windows fogged somewhat, but I could still enjoy the view, which is somewhat different from what we've all seen on the highway a hundred times. Until you approach Eklutna, 45 minutes out of town, most of the view is of trees at this time of year. Then the panorama of upper Knik Arm opens. There are a few curiosities: a derelict building amid the brush at the site of a town once known as Matanuska, long ago flooded out; the charred remains of what I presume is the E-3B AWACS jet that crashed in 1995, killing 24 crew members, apparently kept as a memorial.

Such sights come and pass quickly. A number of people had pocket books or newspapers to pass the time.

But I saw no DVD players. Such a device might be locked in your parked car if you drove, but train riders realize they'll have to tote anything they bring with them for the whole time they're at the fair.

Nearing Palmer, we had to pull over while engines pulling 80-some gravel cars commandeered the tracks. That added 30 minutes to the trip, meaning it took 2 hours rather than 90 minutes. Keep that in mind in case you're hoping to hop off and sprint to a scheduled event on a tight timetable.

Also keep in mind that you'll have to stop at the gate next to the South Palmer Station and exchange the voucher given to you by the railroad for a ticket into the fair. It's a short line, even when 120 passengers are going through the drill. (Oh, and make sure you don't lose your return ticket; you'll need it to go home.)

Immediately to your left, as you enter the grounds by the carnival rides, you'll find some of the newest, cleanest, least-occupied bathrooms at the fair, and a cash machine.

From 3 p.m. on, I made a study of faces in the ever-thickening crowds and noted that, while they may have been enjoying the event, very few people jostling on the midway were actually smiling. Yet most who boarded the early train at 4:30 p.m. were.

Maybe that had to do with the relative quiet and calm of the station. Decompression led to deep relaxation; almost everyone aboard fell asleep for at least part of the trip back to Anchorage -- which ran right on time.

I asked fellow passengers why they took the train. A family of five said none of the adults had driver's licenses, so they couldn't drive. A pair of older women admitted to having mobility problems that made long car rides painful. Several individuals simply said they liked trains and, as train rides go, this one was fairly cheap.

But most shared the opinion of the gentleman who waved his hand at the masses of parked cars and the line of vehicles waiting for the train to pass so that they could get on the road themselves. "To avoid that," he said.

By the time we rolled back through the Ship Creek warehouses to the Anchorage station, I'd been able to stretch out, doze, indulge in scenery and finish two chapters of the book I'd brought with me. For someone who'd spent 5 1/2 hours stamping around the fairgrounds nonstop, I felt pretty good.

Until I realized that I had to climb three blocks of long, long stairs to get back to my car.