ANCHORAGE, Alaska (AP) " The borders of the Who Dat Nation extend far beyond the top row of the Mercedes-Benz Superdome, far beyond Sulphur and Bastrop and Bogalusa, and far beyond the Lower 48 for that matter.

In fact, there's a colony of Who Dats in Anchorage, Alaska " 4,344 miles from Poydras Street.

The Anchorage Who Dats gather on Sundays in a log cabin-style saloon called the Peanut Farm, where they are sequestered in a special room all their own, with a big projector screen and several small televisions.

Fans of other NFL franchises also swarm the Peanut Farm on Sundays, but the Who Dats believe they are probably the most numerous. Estimates vary from three dozen to 75 Alaskan Saints devotees who get decked out in their black and gold gear for games.

Between plays, they quaff beer and chant "we believe" with gusto. "We get a little more wild than the fans they're used to," said Ryan Robert, who was born in Denham Springs.

When the Saints score, they cheer raucously, in part to razz the Packers fans in the next room.

"The Saints fans are the loudest for sure," said Peanut Farm bartender Casey McCutcheon.

Because of the time difference, noon games in the Dome begin at 9 a.m. in Anchorage, which can be before dawn during football season.

"There's time to sober up (afterward) and have the rest of the day," Robert said " unless a division rival is getting their "butts kicked" in a subsequent game. Then the Saints fans might hang around and "have another beer or two," he added.

Morning drinking aside, Anchorage isn't much like New Orleans. There are mountains. They eat giant crabs instead of tiny crawfish. Bears lurk on the outskirts, not alligators. But Anchorage seems to share one fundamental characteristic with New Orleans: People come for a visit, then stick around.

Most of the Anchorage Saints fans hail from Louisiana. Some of the Who Dat Nation expatriates were stationed in the 49th state while in the armed forces. Some traveled to Alaska for work. At least one fled the street violence of New Orleans in the 1990s for the less volatile northern wilderness.

In conversation, everyone comments on the beauty of the place.

Sure it's cold, but "the cold is like the heat in New Orleans," said Robert. "It becomes a normality."

The Seattle Seahawks are the "home team" in Anchorage because that's the closest franchise. But not all natives are allied with the aqua-blue and foam-green team.

Heather Rudisill was born in Alaska but came to love the Saints when she and her Louisiana-born husband moved to Kenner in the 2000s to be closer to his folks. "I may not be from there, but I was there when we won the Super Bowl (in 2010), and I saw the pure joy that exploded out of every face and household," she said.

When Rudisill, an accountant, moved back to Alaska, her Saints fervor persisted. So much so that while hiking, she sometimes writes "Who Dat" in the sand or snow.

Three years ago, she was thrilled to hear of a gang of like-minded Saints fans planted at the Peanut Farm.

"I feel so lucky having found it," she said. "There are hugs, high-fives, and when there's a big play, we do the 'Who Dat' chant. It's fun and there's no drama. I am so happy to be a part of this family."

Everybody calls it a family, and everybody sees it as a Louisiana touchstone.

"Every game is a home game," said Victor Tucker, who grew up in New Orleans East.

Rudisill discovered the so-called "Saints Room" because Karl Liggens, who was born in New Orleans, produced a group Facebook page. Ten months ago, however, Liggens' job as a fuel truck driver required him to move from Anchorage to Valdez, Alaska.

The Peanut Farm is now more than five hours away via a road that is sometimes afflicted by rockslides, soft shoulders, wandering moose and more snow than they have at Hansen's in July. Still, he's made it to a couple of games.

Television isn't the only connection between the Anchorage Who Dats and the Saints. Aircraft mechanic Richard Loomis, the brother of Saints General Manager Mickey Loomis, is a sometime visitor to the Saints Room. Richard Loomis, who first came to Alaska from his native Oregon while serving in the Air Force, is naturally a staunch supporter of his brother's team.

"There are some really passionate fans," Loomis said of the Peanut Farm Who Dats. "It gets pretty wild with screaming and all."

When one of the Anchorage Saints fans, Dan McClain, attended a game in New Orleans, Richard Loomis asked his brother to roll out the red carpet, which included a visit to the Saints sideline. But McClain, who was born in Monroe, wasn't just any displaced Who Dat " he was the founding father of the Saints Room.

According to his son Jesse, Dan McClain first tried to establish a regular Saints viewing spot at a downtown Anchorage hotel, but the vibe was wrong. Hooters worked out better. But when the Saints went to the playoffs in 2000, the population of Anchorage Who Dats expanded, and soon, the game-day gatherings "started getting too big for Hooters," according to Jesse McClain.

Over lunch at the Peanut Farm, Dan McClain proposed to the management that he and his fellow fleur-de-lis-wearers take over a room during games.

As Jesse McClain recalls, the manager said, "If you can fill it, it's yours."

When the Saints went to the Super Bowl, an unprecedented number of Who Dats stuffed themselves into the Saints Room. According to Jesse McClain, when the Saints won, his dad "fell to his knees and was crying."

Dan McClain, who died in 2018, is remembered with a Saints jersey bearing his name on the Saints Room wall.