Once again I've let my blog fall behind, and so I'm motivated to make some changes. It's difficult to give a detailed account of each day of the trip. It's time consuming, and I don't want to spend too much time using computers. I am, after all, adventuring after having spent two and a half years using computers in an office. In order to reduce my typing time I am going to make posts much shorter and less detailed. I'll be happy to give more details about locations or encounters if you ask me, and please do feel free to ask, but I'm not going to include as much detail in the blog from here on out. That said, on to the updates:
Saturday, 14 July: Late start out of White River, sometime around 11:30am. After riding for just less than an hour I stopped for a cinnamon bun and coffee at a "gift/rock shop" and spent 40 minutes talking to the old folks that owned, ran, and lived at the store. Hoping for a short day I planned on staying at a campground that my map showed to be 30km away. I arrived and found that it had been shut down. After having lunch and studying my map I resigned to ride to the next place on my map, the Kluane Village Campground, 35km away. The sky was cloudless and I was quickly going through my water. I finished my last drop just after the roadsign announcing "Kluane Village Campground - 2km". 2km later I learned that Kluane Village was not in fact a village, it was a large gas station with a field for camping. This place too had been shut down. I tried to refill my water but there was no power and so no water could be pumped. By the side of the road I waved my empty water bottles until a passing motorist stopped who had water to spare. The man that stopped, an Alaskan, refilled all my bottles, a combined 5 liters. My map showed there to be no other campgrounds until Burwash Landing, 50km away. I didn't arrive until almost 10pm. This was, up to this point, my longest day and hardest day of riding. At Burwash Landing Resort, which has free tenting, I met Martine and F(something), two cyclists from Belgium and Germany, respectively, who Ben and Kayla had met in Tok.
Sunday, 15 July: (Free tenting) + (more than 80 miles covered on Saturday) = Day off. There's not too much to tell. Burwash Landing is really small, has a free-store(!), and is surrounded by beautiful countryside. The "resort" was on the shore of Kluane Lake, which was big and warm. I didn't really swim since I didn't have a suit and the "resort" restaurant was right on the lake, but I spent a lot of time wading with my pants rolled past my knees. Ben and Kayla rolled in around 8.30pm.
Monday, 16 July: First we rode to, through, and past Destruction Bay. That's an excellent name. We had planned on camping at Cottonwood RV park, but when we arrived we found that it cost $26 to pitch a tent, a price that we all agreed was outrageous, and so we rode on. It began to rain immediately after we left. The next campground was called "Kluane Base Camp". We arrived to find that it wasn't a campground, but a collection of cabins. The owner told us that we could pitch our tents for $40! After a short conference we decided to ride the remaining 60km to Haines Junction. It rained the entire way. Approximately 12km before we rode into Haines Junction we had a really fun, really fast downhill. Here we set our current speed record for the trip: 75.8 kmph, or 47.1 mph. Riding this fast, in the rain, unable to see because of the water on my glasses, I thought "I should get a helmet". In Haines Junction we stayed in a home owned by my friends, Sally and Trevor. It was wonderful to have someplace warm and dry to sleep, and to be able to cook on a real stove, and to be able to shower and do laundry. After more than 80 miles of riding, most of which was in the rain, I don't think I could overstate how much we appreciated their willingness to share their home.
Tuesday, 17 July: Relaxing day off in Haines Junction. There's a great bakery you should visit if you're ever in town. I watched Jurassic Park.
Wednsday, 18 July: We hitchhiked to Haines, AK, to see southeast AK and to give my tendons some more time to heal. Doug, driving a tractor trailer, gave us a ride the entire way. I had never been in a tractor trailer before and was surprised to find how much space there is in the cab. We listened to Fleetwood Mac, Rumors, three times during the ride. I didn't mention it then, but I enjoyed it.
Thursday, 19 July: Haines is beautiful. If you've been to southeast you know what I mean, If you haven't, we'll talk about it sometime. It wasn't nearly as tourist-y as I expected it would be, despite the fact that it's a stopping point for cruise ships. Though I have fallen in love with Alaska while I've lived here, I thought that there wasn't much chance I would move back here after this trip. Now that I've been in Haines for a while though, I might. I think I would really like to live in Haines.
25 July 2007
20 July 2007
continuing
Friday: So, the free food. Review: I had decided to camp at the White River Crossing RV park because they had complementary hot showers and, after the 80km that I'd ridden from US customs, most of which was loose gravel and dirt, I was really looking forward to a good scrubbing.
On my way to the shower I was approached by a man who looked to be about my age. He said that he had seen me ride in and wondered if I was hungry. He had some food leftover and was happy to share. Since I hadn't planned on riding that day and didn't have any extra time between packing up my camp and catching my ride to the border I hadn't eaten much of a breakfast that morning. In Beaver Creek I had eaten a bit, but I hadn't planned on riding as far as I did and so hadn't eaten nearly as much as I ought to have. Though I was caked in dirt, I was hungrier than I was dirty. I told him as much, and thought I'd follow him to a tent or RV.
He led me to a big, sturdy looking tent. Inside there was a large kitchen. Two refrigerators, two stove/ovens, a few tables for food preparation, and many shelves of food in boxes and bags. Instead of the generous camper I'd taken him to be, I learned that he was the cook for a large group of geologist doing exploratory work for a mining firm. He was not just a generous camper, but a generous camper cooking for 30, with a South African firm picking up the food tab. He told me that I could take whatever I liked, not just from the dinner leftovers, but anything in the tent was available. The geologists were leaving the next day, and any leftover food would have to be shipped elsewhere and stored, and if it was perishable it would just spoil anyway. I ate well, and had my first fresh produce since Glennallen. He then packed a bag of food for me to take and eat later on my travels: granola bars, tortillas, apples, tomatoes, yogurt, veggie brats, cans of soup and beans, and bags of trail mix. The bag probably wighted 15 pounds. After a few hours of sharing food and stories I thanked him again, cleaned myself up, and went to sleep feeling awe and appreciation about how lucky I seem to be.
On my way to the shower I was approached by a man who looked to be about my age. He said that he had seen me ride in and wondered if I was hungry. He had some food leftover and was happy to share. Since I hadn't planned on riding that day and didn't have any extra time between packing up my camp and catching my ride to the border I hadn't eaten much of a breakfast that morning. In Beaver Creek I had eaten a bit, but I hadn't planned on riding as far as I did and so hadn't eaten nearly as much as I ought to have. Though I was caked in dirt, I was hungrier than I was dirty. I told him as much, and thought I'd follow him to a tent or RV.
He led me to a big, sturdy looking tent. Inside there was a large kitchen. Two refrigerators, two stove/ovens, a few tables for food preparation, and many shelves of food in boxes and bags. Instead of the generous camper I'd taken him to be, I learned that he was the cook for a large group of geologist doing exploratory work for a mining firm. He was not just a generous camper, but a generous camper cooking for 30, with a South African firm picking up the food tab. He told me that I could take whatever I liked, not just from the dinner leftovers, but anything in the tent was available. The geologists were leaving the next day, and any leftover food would have to be shipped elsewhere and stored, and if it was perishable it would just spoil anyway. I ate well, and had my first fresh produce since Glennallen. He then packed a bag of food for me to take and eat later on my travels: granola bars, tortillas, apples, tomatoes, yogurt, veggie brats, cans of soup and beans, and bags of trail mix. The bag probably wighted 15 pounds. After a few hours of sharing food and stories I thanked him again, cleaned myself up, and went to sleep feeling awe and appreciation about how lucky I seem to be.
18 July 2007
....and then I started riding again.
The Haines Public Library is beautiful. I'm not at all informed about its history, but it looks like it's been built within the last 5 years. Most new buildings are, I think, ugly. This is an exception. I've not done much exploring of the shelves yet, but it looks great. I'll let you know what I find. Now though, I want to talk more about the trip.
Friday: Having made plans to meet Ben and Kayla in Haines Junction on Thursday the 19th, which is tomorrow, I was considering hitchhiking back to Anchorage to rest for a week and then hitching out to the scheduled meet up. My bike, I decided, would have to stay in Tok. It isn't easy to get a ride when you've also got a bike fully laden with panniers. After asking for help those few people in Tok with whom I'd become at all familiar I had no luck finding a place to store my bike and gear. What I did find, if I wanted it, was ride to the border. The Postal Service has a contract with a local man in Tok for the delivery of mail to every mailbox between Tok and the border along the Alaska Highway. This man agreed to let me ride with him to the border. Stopping at each mailbox made it seem like a long 93 miles, but he was good company. He was born and raised in Alaska, and was in his early 60's now, and had great stories of old Alaska. He told me of hunting year round for food, something that he still does, and about how Alaska has, unfortunately, calmed down a lot in the last 20 years. From his description it sounded to me like when he was my age an Alaskan man couldn't go a week without having to fight somebody. When I told him that I had enjoyed working in a library he said that he believed me, that I had the look of a "city boy", and that I'd not have been able to make it in old Alaska. He was probably right.
At the border we said goodbye and wished each other luck. An older Canadian couple helped me by holding my bike while I loaded bags and strapped bundles and bottles to racks. They asked about my trip, and when I told them our plans they said "that sounds miserable"! They were traveling in an RV.
I decided the ride the 27km between US and Canadian customs, and then to camp in Beaver Creek. The no-man's-land between borders was a weird stretch of road. It seemed to me that cars drove more slowly through it. Maybe the drivers wondered which nation's police would ticket them if they sped. Would it be neither, or possibly both? I had similar thoughts. If I were hit by a car or crashed hard during a fast descent where would the rescue workers come from?
Riding wasn't too painful, and I decided to keep on and not stop to see much of Beaver Creek. The Yukon, for those of you who haven't driven through it, is beautiful. The road winds around and over rolling hills, with nothing but trees, lakes, creeks and mountains to see on either side. That is, when you can see. From the US border I rode 80km, and at least 50km was on super dry, loose gravel. It was rough and offered little traction and so was slow riding, and each time a car passed it kicked a cloud of dirt into the air and shot rocks at me from beneath its tires. Though I thought that I was riding into a headwind, a common cyclist complaint that usually means "I'm tired and want to blame my fatigue on something other than myself", I was forced to accept that there was simply no noticeable wind. Each time a car passed it would send a cloud of dirt into the air that seemed to float directly above the road and take forever to settle to the road. By "forever" I guess that I mean "until I had ridden through it". When I finally stopped I was caked in dust, dirtier than I've ever been and more tired than you've ever been. I don't know how tired you have been, but I was really, really tired. And dirty.
....but then something wonderful happened that I'll write about later. It involves free food(!!!) and then some extra free food(!!!).
Friday: Having made plans to meet Ben and Kayla in Haines Junction on Thursday the 19th, which is tomorrow, I was considering hitchhiking back to Anchorage to rest for a week and then hitching out to the scheduled meet up. My bike, I decided, would have to stay in Tok. It isn't easy to get a ride when you've also got a bike fully laden with panniers. After asking for help those few people in Tok with whom I'd become at all familiar I had no luck finding a place to store my bike and gear. What I did find, if I wanted it, was ride to the border. The Postal Service has a contract with a local man in Tok for the delivery of mail to every mailbox between Tok and the border along the Alaska Highway. This man agreed to let me ride with him to the border. Stopping at each mailbox made it seem like a long 93 miles, but he was good company. He was born and raised in Alaska, and was in his early 60's now, and had great stories of old Alaska. He told me of hunting year round for food, something that he still does, and about how Alaska has, unfortunately, calmed down a lot in the last 20 years. From his description it sounded to me like when he was my age an Alaskan man couldn't go a week without having to fight somebody. When I told him that I had enjoyed working in a library he said that he believed me, that I had the look of a "city boy", and that I'd not have been able to make it in old Alaska. He was probably right.
At the border we said goodbye and wished each other luck. An older Canadian couple helped me by holding my bike while I loaded bags and strapped bundles and bottles to racks. They asked about my trip, and when I told them our plans they said "that sounds miserable"! They were traveling in an RV.
I decided the ride the 27km between US and Canadian customs, and then to camp in Beaver Creek. The no-man's-land between borders was a weird stretch of road. It seemed to me that cars drove more slowly through it. Maybe the drivers wondered which nation's police would ticket them if they sped. Would it be neither, or possibly both? I had similar thoughts. If I were hit by a car or crashed hard during a fast descent where would the rescue workers come from?
Riding wasn't too painful, and I decided to keep on and not stop to see much of Beaver Creek. The Yukon, for those of you who haven't driven through it, is beautiful. The road winds around and over rolling hills, with nothing but trees, lakes, creeks and mountains to see on either side. That is, when you can see. From the US border I rode 80km, and at least 50km was on super dry, loose gravel. It was rough and offered little traction and so was slow riding, and each time a car passed it kicked a cloud of dirt into the air and shot rocks at me from beneath its tires. Though I thought that I was riding into a headwind, a common cyclist complaint that usually means "I'm tired and want to blame my fatigue on something other than myself", I was forced to accept that there was simply no noticeable wind. Each time a car passed it would send a cloud of dirt into the air that seemed to float directly above the road and take forever to settle to the road. By "forever" I guess that I mean "until I had ridden through it". When I finally stopped I was caked in dust, dirtier than I've ever been and more tired than you've ever been. I don't know how tired you have been, but I was really, really tired. And dirty.
....but then something wonderful happened that I'll write about later. It involves free food(!!!) and then some extra free food(!!!).
currently...
...it's Wednesday and we're trying to hitchhike to Haines from Haines Junction. We're well and looking forward to a few more days of rest before we start pedaling again.
17 July 2007
the yukon
Now, 2 weeks & 3 days after we began, we're in the Haines Junction, Yukon. My friend from the library, Sally, owns a home in Haines Junction where we've been able to sleep, shower, and do laundry. After living outside for 17 days with almost no extra clothing we were all in need of a good scrub and our wardrobes certainly needed the laundering. After all the rain that we've had (almost every day!) we were all really looking forward to sleeping someplace dry and warm. Sally and Trevor, thanks again! Anyway, here's what's been happening:
Wednesday: Kelly drove back to Anchorage, I hitched to Tok. After thumbing on the highway for almost two hours I was picked up by some older southern folks driving a pickup and towing a camper. We fit my bike in the truck bed and there was room for me in the cab. As soon as we were on the rode the matriarch announced it was time for lunch and soon we had parked at a rest stop and we sat around a table in their camper eating eating sandwiches. Over lunch I learned that two of them, Georgia and Rodney, were from Oklahoma but wintered in Texas, and Clifford, Rodney's brother, still lived in Oklahoma. They were all retired and spent their time traveling and visiting their many children and grandchildren that had spread across the continent. I was, Rodney told me, the first hitchhiker he'd picked up since 1975. I'm kind of a lucky guy.
Once in Tok I found Kayla almost immediately. She was pitching a tent in the big, gravel lot behind the grocery store, gas station, and diner that line the southern side of the Alaska Highway as it runs east out of Tok. This was the only place they had found to camp for free in town, and so was the best choice financially. It was also conveniently near everything. In Tok though, everyplace is near everything. After reuniting to hugs and happiness Ben and Kayla decided that they would like to ride out the next day. We decided that we would meet up in one week in Haines Junction.
Thursday: Ben and Kayla left town early, I stayed in Tok for a litte rest and reading. The hotel across the road had a computer in the lobby for guests to use and a few times I sneaked in to make blog posts and reply to emails. That evening I met an interesting couple who told me of their plans for an unsupported summit of Denali. Their hope was to avoid the expense of flying in to the west buttress route, and instead to take the tour bus out of the Denali visitor center to Wonder Lake, and from there to hike/climb their entire way to the summit. They estimated a travel time of 20 days round trip. Though much shorter, that's a much more adventurous trip than this bike trip. I wish them luck.
more soon.....
Wednesday: Kelly drove back to Anchorage, I hitched to Tok. After thumbing on the highway for almost two hours I was picked up by some older southern folks driving a pickup and towing a camper. We fit my bike in the truck bed and there was room for me in the cab. As soon as we were on the rode the matriarch announced it was time for lunch and soon we had parked at a rest stop and we sat around a table in their camper eating eating sandwiches. Over lunch I learned that two of them, Georgia and Rodney, were from Oklahoma but wintered in Texas, and Clifford, Rodney's brother, still lived in Oklahoma. They were all retired and spent their time traveling and visiting their many children and grandchildren that had spread across the continent. I was, Rodney told me, the first hitchhiker he'd picked up since 1975. I'm kind of a lucky guy.
Once in Tok I found Kayla almost immediately. She was pitching a tent in the big, gravel lot behind the grocery store, gas station, and diner that line the southern side of the Alaska Highway as it runs east out of Tok. This was the only place they had found to camp for free in town, and so was the best choice financially. It was also conveniently near everything. In Tok though, everyplace is near everything. After reuniting to hugs and happiness Ben and Kayla decided that they would like to ride out the next day. We decided that we would meet up in one week in Haines Junction.
Thursday: Ben and Kayla left town early, I stayed in Tok for a litte rest and reading. The hotel across the road had a computer in the lobby for guests to use and a few times I sneaked in to make blog posts and reply to emails. That evening I met an interesting couple who told me of their plans for an unsupported summit of Denali. Their hope was to avoid the expense of flying in to the west buttress route, and instead to take the tour bus out of the Denali visitor center to Wonder Lake, and from there to hike/climb their entire way to the summit. They estimated a travel time of 20 days round trip. Though much shorter, that's a much more adventurous trip than this bike trip. I wish them luck.
more soon.....
12 July 2007
catching up
It's been over a week since I've last posted and there will be a lot to talk about, but I'll try and keep it brief. Last night I reunited with Ben and Kayla and we're all alive and dirty and loving everything. The details, in a somewhat abridged form, follow. Feel free to skim.
Sunday: Kelly offered to come to Glennallen and spend my rest days with me. I accepted, though I didn't understand why somebody would want to spend their days off laying on the ground with their feet iced and elevated if they weren't in fact injured. Another cyclist, Betsy, shared the campsite with me. She arrived at 9.30 and was asleep by 10.30. Kelly arrived after midnight.
Monday: Kelly drove me to Valdez, someplace I had long hoped to visit. There I had my first bear encounter and saw beautiful waterfalls and mountains. I've offically promised to go back to Valdez next summer to swim in a pool that we found beneath a waterfall. So, Alaskans, I'll see you this time next year. If I had been in Valdez without janky ankles I would have loved to do some hiking and exploring. Ah well, there's always next year.
Tuesday: We spent the day exploring waterfalls that weren't too remote or difficult to access. That night we drove to and stayed in Gakona.
to be continued.....
Sunday: Kelly offered to come to Glennallen and spend my rest days with me. I accepted, though I didn't understand why somebody would want to spend their days off laying on the ground with their feet iced and elevated if they weren't in fact injured. Another cyclist, Betsy, shared the campsite with me. She arrived at 9.30 and was asleep by 10.30. Kelly arrived after midnight.
Monday: Kelly drove me to Valdez, someplace I had long hoped to visit. There I had my first bear encounter and saw beautiful waterfalls and mountains. I've offically promised to go back to Valdez next summer to swim in a pool that we found beneath a waterfall. So, Alaskans, I'll see you this time next year. If I had been in Valdez without janky ankles I would have loved to do some hiking and exploring. Ah well, there's always next year.
Tuesday: We spent the day exploring waterfalls that weren't too remote or difficult to access. That night we drove to and stayed in Gakona.
to be continued.....
08 July 2007
Friday, Saturday, Sunday
Glennallen, Glennallen, Glennallen.
Friday: We decided to rest. My tendons were still sore, Ben's knee was aching, Kayla was patient with us. At some point during the day we each spent time at the library reading and computering. Earlier in the day, while getting coffee, Ben and I had a 3 hour long conversation about almost everything with a man from Toronto. We didn't learn his name, he specifically said that he was not going to give it to us because the world is just too small these days and we could put anything we wanted on the internet. He was just being cautious.
Saturday: A lot of reading got done, and some amature cobblery, but no forward progress was made on the trip. We were still staying at the same campsite we'd been at since Thursday and there we met another traveling cyclist. She was a woman from Anchorage riding to Haines. We shared a campsite and crossword puzzle with her, and we decided to ride together for the next leg of the trip. Well, we decided that Ben and Kayla would ride with her for the next leg. I'm taking a few more days off in Glennallen to rest my body before I get back on the road. My plan is to hitchhike to Tok on Tuesday to meet up with them.
Sunday: Now. Glennallen. Everyone else has ridden on to Tok. I think I'll go read and drink some coffee.
Friday: We decided to rest. My tendons were still sore, Ben's knee was aching, Kayla was patient with us. At some point during the day we each spent time at the library reading and computering. Earlier in the day, while getting coffee, Ben and I had a 3 hour long conversation about almost everything with a man from Toronto. We didn't learn his name, he specifically said that he was not going to give it to us because the world is just too small these days and we could put anything we wanted on the internet. He was just being cautious.
Saturday: A lot of reading got done, and some amature cobblery, but no forward progress was made on the trip. We were still staying at the same campsite we'd been at since Thursday and there we met another traveling cyclist. She was a woman from Anchorage riding to Haines. We shared a campsite and crossword puzzle with her, and we decided to ride together for the next leg of the trip. Well, we decided that Ben and Kayla would ride with her for the next leg. I'm taking a few more days off in Glennallen to rest my body before I get back on the road. My plan is to hitchhike to Tok on Tuesday to meet up with them.
Sunday: Now. Glennallen. Everyone else has ridden on to Tok. I think I'll go read and drink some coffee.
Thursday: Glennallen
Once we were on the road, after we'd eaten breakfast and dragged our bikes through mud and out of the forest, it was almost noon. We rode 15 miles, met up, and rode the final 16 miles into Glennallen pretty quickly. Through it all my achilles tendons were still sore. We stopped at a hardware store in town to by a washer and nut to fix my pedal (a $.26 fix!) and rode through the town to see where we could find to camp, eat, and restock our larders. Kayla rode to the library and explored a fire damaged building while Ben and I celebrated our travels with coffee and peanut butter milkshakes.
We met up later at the library where, putting to use the medical searching skills I've acquired over the last 2 years with HSIS, I searched common achilles tendon or ankle injuries. I suspect, though I'm no doctor, that I've got acute achilles tendinopathy. What I mean is that I've the common symptoms for it: tendon swelling; pain; impaired performance; and I am guilty of many of the common causes: increased exercise amount, duration, and gradient; less time for recovery between intervals; failure to sufficiently stretch before exercise. From what I've read this take days, weeks, or months to properly heal, and that stressing the injury before it is healed can make an acute case a chronic condition. Knowing this, I told Ben and Kayla that I wouldn't be ready to ride to out towards Tok on Friday. They were supportive and agreed that I shouldn't ride and that we'd all take a day off in Glennallen.
After milkshakes, library, and groceries, we camped at an RV park that had a few dedicated tent sites, warm showers, nice bathrooms, and free internet. That night we made a delicious vegetable stew with a tomato soup base. There are some definite advantages to being in a town with a grocery store. You can't really carry delicate or perishable food on your bike for days at a time, and unfortunately most vegetables are perishable and delicate.
We met up later at the library where, putting to use the medical searching skills I've acquired over the last 2 years with HSIS, I searched common achilles tendon or ankle injuries. I suspect, though I'm no doctor, that I've got acute achilles tendinopathy. What I mean is that I've the common symptoms for it: tendon swelling; pain; impaired performance; and I am guilty of many of the common causes: increased exercise amount, duration, and gradient; less time for recovery between intervals; failure to sufficiently stretch before exercise. From what I've read this take days, weeks, or months to properly heal, and that stressing the injury before it is healed can make an acute case a chronic condition. Knowing this, I told Ben and Kayla that I wouldn't be ready to ride to out towards Tok on Friday. They were supportive and agreed that I shouldn't ride and that we'd all take a day off in Glennallen.
After milkshakes, library, and groceries, we camped at an RV park that had a few dedicated tent sites, warm showers, nice bathrooms, and free internet. That night we made a delicious vegetable stew with a tomato soup base. There are some definite advantages to being in a town with a grocery store. You can't really carry delicate or perishable food on your bike for days at a time, and unfortunately most vegetables are perishable and delicate.
06 July 2007
aside
Funny things found stuck in my hair since this homeless adventure began:
- pine needles
- sticks
- a grub
- peanut butter
- pine needles
- sticks
- a grub
- peanut butter
Wednesday
Hey, you know me. I wear glasses. My vision is terrible and even with glasses I have trouble reading roadsigns from any real distance. Wearing glasses, as much as I might actually like it, is inconvenient while riding a bike in the rain. During any sort of real rainshower I've only got about 30 seconds before my entire corrected field of view is covered in water. I sometimes want to ride without my glasses, and without the constant glasses-accompanying fear that the rain will make my frames slippery enough to fall off while I'm riding. I think about this most on the long, fast downhills when a fall would be the most injurious. Realistically, most of my falls occur while moving very slowly or standing still, so I don't think I really need to fear the bike in motion. That brings us to Wednesday.
We got started around 10am, and about a mile down the road, after a nice, long downhill and a short climb, I stopped to tighten the cleat on my right pedal. But the cleat was incomplete! Tuesday I had to loosen the cleat as much as possible in order to release the broken shoe. Now, a small but unique puzzle-piece shaped bolt was missing and my right shoe couldn't firmly attach to the pedal. Kayla and I rode back to the church, keeping our eyes on the ground the whole way up what had been a fun downhill. We had no luck finding the piece on the road, in the parking lot, or inside the church where our bikes had been. I spoke with Marlin about my problem and he offered me his computer to use if it would help. After having no luck finding a cheaper solution I went ahead and ordered new pedals to have sent to Tok. They should be there Monday. So should we. 30 minutes after our oringinal departure, still unable to use my right cleat, Kayla and I were on the road again.
Almost the entire distance between miles 105 and 107 is one long, winding downhill, which is, of course, fun. Approximately 200 feet before the bottom of this hill there had very recently been a landslide that still stretched aross most of the road. Luckily there were no cars coming from the other direction and I was able to blast through the small clear section. At the bottom of the hill I found Ben. He had not noticed the landslide until he was upon it, and he rolled through a rough, rocky section which caused the sidewall of his tire to punture. I stayed with Ben as he struggled to get his tire and tube fixed. In the end he was successful, but it was a hard fought, pyrrhic victory. Ben went through three tubes before he could ride again, leaving him with only one spare fit for use. Eighty minutes later we were rolling again, though this time slowly and uphill.
It was still lightly raining and we were literally pedaling through a cloud, but when we could see any of our surroundings they were beautiful. There was once point where it looked like clay was dripping down the mountain and the wilderness green and rocky orange were flowing together unmixed, like oil and water. I wonder if I would have noticed the same things if I had seen the entire countryside, or if seeing discrete portions was necessary for me to notice any of the same details. This is a specific case of the more general "seeing the trees vs seeing the forest" issue. If there is one thing I learned from mathematics it is to always seek further generalization.
Coming out of the mountains was refreshing. We left behind the rain and had a significant tailwind the rest of the day. We traveled faster now, and the 17 miles before the Eureka Roashouse went by quickly and effortlessly. We were still cold and wet from the half of the day spent in the rain, and so we stopped to warm up. When we left an hour later we were dry (there was a fireplace!) and full of 25 cent coffee and delicious, fresh pie. We left with the wind at our backs and rode for a few more hours, covering a total of 60 miles that day. That night we dragged our gear laden bikes off the road and into the woods, pitching our tents at the first place we found large enough to fit them.
Uh-oh! Before we stopped I had begun to notice pain in each of my achilles tendons, though the pain was stronger in my left leg than in my right.....
We got started around 10am, and about a mile down the road, after a nice, long downhill and a short climb, I stopped to tighten the cleat on my right pedal. But the cleat was incomplete! Tuesday I had to loosen the cleat as much as possible in order to release the broken shoe. Now, a small but unique puzzle-piece shaped bolt was missing and my right shoe couldn't firmly attach to the pedal. Kayla and I rode back to the church, keeping our eyes on the ground the whole way up what had been a fun downhill. We had no luck finding the piece on the road, in the parking lot, or inside the church where our bikes had been. I spoke with Marlin about my problem and he offered me his computer to use if it would help. After having no luck finding a cheaper solution I went ahead and ordered new pedals to have sent to Tok. They should be there Monday. So should we. 30 minutes after our oringinal departure, still unable to use my right cleat, Kayla and I were on the road again.
Almost the entire distance between miles 105 and 107 is one long, winding downhill, which is, of course, fun. Approximately 200 feet before the bottom of this hill there had very recently been a landslide that still stretched aross most of the road. Luckily there were no cars coming from the other direction and I was able to blast through the small clear section. At the bottom of the hill I found Ben. He had not noticed the landslide until he was upon it, and he rolled through a rough, rocky section which caused the sidewall of his tire to punture. I stayed with Ben as he struggled to get his tire and tube fixed. In the end he was successful, but it was a hard fought, pyrrhic victory. Ben went through three tubes before he could ride again, leaving him with only one spare fit for use. Eighty minutes later we were rolling again, though this time slowly and uphill.
It was still lightly raining and we were literally pedaling through a cloud, but when we could see any of our surroundings they were beautiful. There was once point where it looked like clay was dripping down the mountain and the wilderness green and rocky orange were flowing together unmixed, like oil and water. I wonder if I would have noticed the same things if I had seen the entire countryside, or if seeing discrete portions was necessary for me to notice any of the same details. This is a specific case of the more general "seeing the trees vs seeing the forest" issue. If there is one thing I learned from mathematics it is to always seek further generalization.
Coming out of the mountains was refreshing. We left behind the rain and had a significant tailwind the rest of the day. We traveled faster now, and the 17 miles before the Eureka Roashouse went by quickly and effortlessly. We were still cold and wet from the half of the day spent in the rain, and so we stopped to warm up. When we left an hour later we were dry (there was a fireplace!) and full of 25 cent coffee and delicious, fresh pie. We left with the wind at our backs and rode for a few more hours, covering a total of 60 miles that day. That night we dragged our gear laden bikes off the road and into the woods, pitching our tents at the first place we found large enough to fit them.
Uh-oh! Before we stopped I had begun to notice pain in each of my achilles tendons, though the pain was stronger in my left leg than in my right.....
We're off!
That's right, we've not just gotten our feet in the water, we've held hands and jumped in over our heads. Ben, Kayla, and I left Anchorage Sunday evening and have been riding since. There has been rain every day and plenty of bike problems, but there has also been loads of fun had and beautiful things seen and people met. Following this caveat I'll give you the rundown of what has been going on: We don't have regular internet access for updates, so I'll probably end up writing a lot at once. You're not obligated to read it all at once, or ever.
Sunday: After readying our bikes, eating a wonderful breakfast with wonderful friends, and saying some important goodbyes, we finally rolled out of Anchorage around 5pm. None of us had done much riding with all of our panniers packed, so we were all riding slowly and nervously. We rode only as far as Palmer. There we stayed at Ben's father's place and spent our first night of homeless adventuring sleeping safely in a room that had at one time been a science laboratory, complete with empty though still labeled specimen cabinets.
Monday: We woke early, and after coffee, fresh bread, and crossword puzzles at Vagabond Blues, and picking up a surprisingly large list of things we'd either forgotten to pack or hadn't thought to bring, we finally hit the road. This time slightly earlier at 2:30pm. It had been raining since before we woke, and continued to rain throught the day. We spent most of the day riding up, and very occasionally down, the hills and mountains just outside of Palmer.
The first bike problems occured when a screw was lost from Kayla's cleat making her unable to remove her shoe from the pedal and later Ben's chain broke during a big climb. Fortunately we had enough extra parts with us that neither of these problems was much of a delay. The large, delay causing problem on Monday was something that we should have expected and been ready for: the mountains. By the time we stopped to pitch our tents we had only covered 40 miles. We camped about 70 feet off of the highway that night, beneath powerlines.
Tuesday: We woke, once again, to rain. After a quick breakfast we started riding. We had very little water left, so we agreed to stop at the first friendly looking place we could find to fill our bottles. 14 miles later, after some really fun, fast downhill sections through contruction zones, we found a general store. They didn't have much, and told us we couldn't fill our water bottles, but they had warm coffee and we were content. Later Ben and I distracted the proprietor with conversation while Kayla filled our bottles in the bathroom sink. Deciding to meet after another 6 miles, at mile 100, we rode off.
Just before mile 100 is Glacierview Bible Church. I found Ben waiting in the parking lot there enjoying the first real sunshine we'd seen on the adventure. Over the last few miles I had noticed that my cleat was loose and now I meant to investigate. Upon examination I found that the problem wasn't my cleat, but that my shoe had broken. I had other footwear, and could ride the pedals like traditional platform pedals, but that would be much slower and less efficient. Ben mentioned that his father was leaving to drive back to Nevada later that day and might be able to bring out parts if we needed them. We reached him on the phone and he agreed to go to the Wasilla bike shop and get me new SPD compatible shoes. Excellent. In a few hours Tony (Ben's dad) would arrive and we'd be on the road again.... After I patched a tire that had gone flat since we'd arrived.
After the phoning Ben's dad for a rescue we had an afternoon to spend in this church parking lot. We spoke about the ride so far and about our expectations for and concerns about the road ahead. After pulling the cleat, which might still be useful, from the bottom of my shoes, I went to investigate the church and see if I could find a garbage can for my now dead bike shoes. Inside the church I found the Pastor, who pleasantly said that he would dispose of my shoes and offered us water to refill our bottles. I thanked him for his help and went to nap in the sun. He and Kayla then spoke for a while and he gave us permission to wait inside if it began to rain and to spend the night inside if Ben's dad arrived late.
It began to rain again, and by the time Tony arrived we had decided to spend the night where we were. Our tents were still wet from the previous night's rain, and in the spacious basement we were able to set them up and dry them out. We were incredibly lucky not only to have a warm place to sleep and a roof over our heads, but also to have a ready supply of hot water for tea! I don't think we can express our appreciation enough. Marlin, if you're reading this, thanks again.
Sunday: After readying our bikes, eating a wonderful breakfast with wonderful friends, and saying some important goodbyes, we finally rolled out of Anchorage around 5pm. None of us had done much riding with all of our panniers packed, so we were all riding slowly and nervously. We rode only as far as Palmer. There we stayed at Ben's father's place and spent our first night of homeless adventuring sleeping safely in a room that had at one time been a science laboratory, complete with empty though still labeled specimen cabinets.
Monday: We woke early, and after coffee, fresh bread, and crossword puzzles at Vagabond Blues, and picking up a surprisingly large list of things we'd either forgotten to pack or hadn't thought to bring, we finally hit the road. This time slightly earlier at 2:30pm. It had been raining since before we woke, and continued to rain throught the day. We spent most of the day riding up, and very occasionally down, the hills and mountains just outside of Palmer.
The first bike problems occured when a screw was lost from Kayla's cleat making her unable to remove her shoe from the pedal and later Ben's chain broke during a big climb. Fortunately we had enough extra parts with us that neither of these problems was much of a delay. The large, delay causing problem on Monday was something that we should have expected and been ready for: the mountains. By the time we stopped to pitch our tents we had only covered 40 miles. We camped about 70 feet off of the highway that night, beneath powerlines.
Tuesday: We woke, once again, to rain. After a quick breakfast we started riding. We had very little water left, so we agreed to stop at the first friendly looking place we could find to fill our bottles. 14 miles later, after some really fun, fast downhill sections through contruction zones, we found a general store. They didn't have much, and told us we couldn't fill our water bottles, but they had warm coffee and we were content. Later Ben and I distracted the proprietor with conversation while Kayla filled our bottles in the bathroom sink. Deciding to meet after another 6 miles, at mile 100, we rode off.
Just before mile 100 is Glacierview Bible Church. I found Ben waiting in the parking lot there enjoying the first real sunshine we'd seen on the adventure. Over the last few miles I had noticed that my cleat was loose and now I meant to investigate. Upon examination I found that the problem wasn't my cleat, but that my shoe had broken. I had other footwear, and could ride the pedals like traditional platform pedals, but that would be much slower and less efficient. Ben mentioned that his father was leaving to drive back to Nevada later that day and might be able to bring out parts if we needed them. We reached him on the phone and he agreed to go to the Wasilla bike shop and get me new SPD compatible shoes. Excellent. In a few hours Tony (Ben's dad) would arrive and we'd be on the road again.... After I patched a tire that had gone flat since we'd arrived.
After the phoning Ben's dad for a rescue we had an afternoon to spend in this church parking lot. We spoke about the ride so far and about our expectations for and concerns about the road ahead. After pulling the cleat, which might still be useful, from the bottom of my shoes, I went to investigate the church and see if I could find a garbage can for my now dead bike shoes. Inside the church I found the Pastor, who pleasantly said that he would dispose of my shoes and offered us water to refill our bottles. I thanked him for his help and went to nap in the sun. He and Kayla then spoke for a while and he gave us permission to wait inside if it began to rain and to spend the night inside if Ben's dad arrived late.
It began to rain again, and by the time Tony arrived we had decided to spend the night where we were. Our tents were still wet from the previous night's rain, and in the spacious basement we were able to set them up and dry them out. We were incredibly lucky not only to have a warm place to sleep and a roof over our heads, but also to have a ready supply of hot water for tea! I don't think we can express our appreciation enough. Marlin, if you're reading this, thanks again.
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