"Hey, look, you're different."
A friend of mine once said that to his wife after she'd changed clothes mid-conversation, and I today, while thinking of the next leg of the bike trip, my thoughts echoed that sentiment. Rather than riding northwest from Portland and then south down the coast we've decided to skip the coast and ride straight south. From here the coast seems too far. We're in Chicago now.
Last week, while browsing Amtrak fares from Seattle to Olympia I found tickets from Portland to Chicago for almost nothing. Ben and I were excited to make this impulsive change but were a little disappointed to give up the west coast leg of the trip. After hemming and hawing for a few minutes we decided to ask Kayla, without telling her that it was entirely her decision, how she would like to visit Chicago. She was excited to go and so, after a few days in Portland seeing old friends and eating doughnuts, we boarded a train heading east.
Kayla's cousin, Sarah, has been putting us up in Chicago. She has an apartment with two extra bedrooms and has been a super accommodating host and has provided excellent directions around the city. Chicago seems like a really great city. I'd spent some time here before, almost 14 hours, but then I'd spent the entire time walking and appreciating the sights of a real city (sorry Anchorage!) and enjoying it, but not enough to delay my departure. This time, riding my bike around the city, I'm feeling those stomach butterflies and jaw-ache inducing smiles that hint at love. That's right, I said it, I love Chicago. I've never been in a city that so successfully integrates bicycles into traffic as a realistic transportation option. Did you hear that, Portlanders? Chicago is more bike-friendly than Portland and Chicago is more bike-friendly than Seattle and Chicago is a beautiful city on a beautiful lake (but not as beautiful as Lake Ontario). Love is fleeting though, and we'll ride out in day or two.
Wait! "We'll ride out...." means something different now. It used to mean something like "Ben, Kayla, and I....", but now it means "Ben and I....". Kayla is staying in Chicago. I certainly can't blame her. If I weren't so cynical and distrusting of love I would stay here as well. [a joke!] On the upside, now we have a floor to sleep on in Chicago. Kayla, I'll miss you, and I'll be slightly envious of you for a while, buy once my Chicago love-buzz wears off I'll wonder how you could give up life on the road for life in a house.
It's getting to be cold at night and so I've been bundling up. Since we're staying indoors at Sarah/Kayla's apartment this bundling has been mostly for practice and often I'll wake up fully bundled and drenched in sweat. When we're outside though, through the chilly midwestern autumn, I'll be ready.
16 September 2007
09 September 2007
seattle, but then.....
I've mentioned before that Seattle is fun, and in my experience it continues to be so. Ben and I spent Wednesday walking around town looking for certain bike pieces and trip supplies that I'm still trying to replace: 1 bottle cage, 1 front-rack, 1 handlebar bag, 2 waterproof front-panniers, 1 sleeping pad, and 1 pair long underpants. We found nothing useful at reasonable prices, but that evening we found a comedy club with 5 comics lined up for a $5.00 cover. It wasn't exactly a bargain, but it was worth what we paid. There were some genuinely funny lines, but even these were weakened by their references bowl cuts, clown cars, and homophobia - cheap fodder for easy laughs. Using Craigslist we found a ride to Olympia on Thursday afternoon, and before the sun was setting we had unexpectedly bumped into a friend from Seward, AK, and were eating dinner with Katie and Eamon.
We spent Friday, Saturday, and Sunday morning with Katie and Eamon, together when possible, and separately while one or the other was at work. Friday was spent mostly wandering and drinking coffee, and eventually culminated with thick, delicious milkshakes that, even combining our efforts, proved too much milkshake to be finished. I'd never been beaten by a milkshake before, it has never even been close, but I don't regret losing. It was humbling to leave the half-full metal mixing cup there on the table, and I believe that humility is a good thing. Saturday we had the opportunity to join the Olympia Gleaners Coalition for a trip to a local organic farm. The Gleaners are a volunteer run organization that visits farms after growers have picked what they'll take to the market to sell, and picks whatever usable produce is left. Volunteers are welcome to take what they like, and the rest is given to the local foodbank. In exchange for this opportunity, the volunteers generally help with farm work or provide manual labor for a few hours. We helped spread mulched tree-bark over a small field of blueberry bushes in exchange for the opportunity to pick vegetables, fruits, and edible flowers. Knowing that we were leaving the next morning Ben and I didn't take much produce, but what we did take, mostly cherry tomatoes and some flowers that tasted like mustard, were delicious.
Katie and Eamon, by the way, seem to be an excellent match. If you see them before I do send them my thanks, and a hug. You may not know if I've seen them first, so just go ahead with the hug and thanks.
It's Sunday night now and we're in Portland staying with Ben's sister Krista and her husband Jeremy. They've been good to us so far. Jeremy was kind enough to share his graphic novels with me and for a while I was happily engrossed in the goings on in Gotham and Metropolis.
Have you ever had an impossible time trying to find a particular book? I'm going through that now. If I find what I'm looking for I'll let you know.
We spent Friday, Saturday, and Sunday morning with Katie and Eamon, together when possible, and separately while one or the other was at work. Friday was spent mostly wandering and drinking coffee, and eventually culminated with thick, delicious milkshakes that, even combining our efforts, proved too much milkshake to be finished. I'd never been beaten by a milkshake before, it has never even been close, but I don't regret losing. It was humbling to leave the half-full metal mixing cup there on the table, and I believe that humility is a good thing. Saturday we had the opportunity to join the Olympia Gleaners Coalition for a trip to a local organic farm. The Gleaners are a volunteer run organization that visits farms after growers have picked what they'll take to the market to sell, and picks whatever usable produce is left. Volunteers are welcome to take what they like, and the rest is given to the local foodbank. In exchange for this opportunity, the volunteers generally help with farm work or provide manual labor for a few hours. We helped spread mulched tree-bark over a small field of blueberry bushes in exchange for the opportunity to pick vegetables, fruits, and edible flowers. Knowing that we were leaving the next morning Ben and I didn't take much produce, but what we did take, mostly cherry tomatoes and some flowers that tasted like mustard, were delicious.
Katie and Eamon, by the way, seem to be an excellent match. If you see them before I do send them my thanks, and a hug. You may not know if I've seen them first, so just go ahead with the hug and thanks.
It's Sunday night now and we're in Portland staying with Ben's sister Krista and her husband Jeremy. They've been good to us so far. Jeremy was kind enough to share his graphic novels with me and for a while I was happily engrossed in the goings on in Gotham and Metropolis.
Have you ever had an impossible time trying to find a particular book? I'm going through that now. If I find what I'm looking for I'll let you know.
05 September 2007
on the road again, kind of...
After much waiting, resting, healing, swimming, splashing, hugging, and flying, I am back in the west and am ready to start riding again. CNY was wonderful, as it seems always to be when I no longer live there. While back east I was able to visit Spencer in Boston, swim in the Atlantic a handful of times, swim in Lake Ontario a handful of a handful of times, ride my skateboard at my favorite old spots, find a few new favorite spots, and see all the friends and family that still live in the area. Everybody: it was great seeing you, I miss you already.
My plane flew into Seattle during a raging thunderstorm turned into a light drizzle the instant that I left the airport. I've spent the last two days wandering around Seattle looking at used bikes and talking to strangers. It's been fun so far. Last night I made new friends that share an appreciation for Ms. Pacman, which 3 days before I had declared to be my favorite video game, and with whom I spent the late night and early morning hours talking about typefaces, wigs, and the classic synthesized robot and alien voices found on cheap electronic toys. Who remembers the Buzz Lightyear megaphone? Can I see a show of hands? Of course I can't.
Greyhound still hasn't found my bike, the scoundrels, and they don't seem much closer to paying me its declared value. I've purchase what I expect will be a suitable replacement. It's a Centurion Pro Tour 15, a lugged, steel frame mass produced in Japan in the early 80's. The tubing is a proprietary Tange tubing comparable to Columbus or Reynolds. I think the frame will function just fine, and it looks pretty steezin' if you ask me. If ever I get a picture of it I'll be sure to post it. The components are all shimano 105 and so, if you believe conventional wisdom, are pretty nice. Unfortunately we're still waiting on conclusive results concerning whether or not conventional wisdom can be trusted as a source of knowledge. Preliminary findings suggest otherwise.
Bye.
My plane flew into Seattle during a raging thunderstorm turned into a light drizzle the instant that I left the airport. I've spent the last two days wandering around Seattle looking at used bikes and talking to strangers. It's been fun so far. Last night I made new friends that share an appreciation for Ms. Pacman, which 3 days before I had declared to be my favorite video game, and with whom I spent the late night and early morning hours talking about typefaces, wigs, and the classic synthesized robot and alien voices found on cheap electronic toys. Who remembers the Buzz Lightyear megaphone? Can I see a show of hands? Of course I can't.
Greyhound still hasn't found my bike, the scoundrels, and they don't seem much closer to paying me its declared value. I've purchase what I expect will be a suitable replacement. It's a Centurion Pro Tour 15, a lugged, steel frame mass produced in Japan in the early 80's. The tubing is a proprietary Tange tubing comparable to Columbus or Reynolds. I think the frame will function just fine, and it looks pretty steezin' if you ask me. If ever I get a picture of it I'll be sure to post it. The components are all shimano 105 and so, if you believe conventional wisdom, are pretty nice. Unfortunately we're still waiting on conclusive results concerning whether or not conventional wisdom can be trusted as a source of knowledge. Preliminary findings suggest otherwise.
Bye.
23 August 2007
up-to-dating
I'll begin with some good news: last night I went for my first somewhat long bike ride, around 15 miles, and not only did it not bother my tendons one bit, but I was, despite almost four weeks of not riding, still damn fast. I don't want to make too much of this, and I know that it was a relatively short ride, but I think this means that this time of rest and mending has been somewhat successful. I'm going to ride more today and see how I feel. Also, I'm riding my old fixed gear bike now, which is wonderful and more physically demanding on my tendons. I have an - if I can make it here, where "here" should be read as "on my fixie", then I can make it anywhere - type of feeling. That is, as long as I properly stretch each day.
Oh yeah, Greyhound lost my bike. I'm looking around for something to ride but am not having much luck here in the CNY. If you've got any leads on a size and trip appropriate bike send them my way. Next week I'll be visiting Spencer in Boston where, I hope, he'll be able to share his secret, Boston specific, used-bike knowledge with me.
I miss you guys, all of you. Even you.
Oh yeah, Greyhound lost my bike. I'm looking around for something to ride but am not having much luck here in the CNY. If you've got any leads on a size and trip appropriate bike send them my way. Next week I'll be visiting Spencer in Boston where, I hope, he'll be able to share his secret, Boston specific, used-bike knowledge with me.
I miss you guys, all of you. Even you.
05 August 2007
Five things in CNY that I've missed (alphabetically):
- family
- Lake Ontario
- old friends
- Saranac Root Beer
- spots that I grew up skating which, at the time, weren't very good, and have gotten worse. Still, I love them
Errata: While home I sampled Ithaca Brewing Company Root Beer. From a bottle it is at least as good as Saranac, but I've not found it from a tap. Saranac from a tap is the current best possible root beer experience, though not the absolute best root beer experience. That honor still belongs to the Empire Brewing Company's root beer on tap and brewed on site until their Syracuse location closed in 2002 or 2003. The Empire Brewing Company has since reopened but they no longer brew root beer.
- Lake Ontario
- old friends
- Saranac Root Beer
- spots that I grew up skating which, at the time, weren't very good, and have gotten worse. Still, I love them
Errata: While home I sampled Ithaca Brewing Company Root Beer. From a bottle it is at least as good as Saranac, but I've not found it from a tap. Saranac from a tap is the current best possible root beer experience, though not the absolute best root beer experience. That honor still belongs to the Empire Brewing Company's root beer on tap and brewed on site until their Syracuse location closed in 2002 or 2003. The Empire Brewing Company has since reopened but they no longer brew root beer.
quickly, quickly
Apologies! It's the 6th of August and I haven't written about events more recent than 22 July. Now we'll try and get caught up, briefly:
Monday - Thursday, 23 - 26 July: It took me two days to hitch a ride out of Haines Junction, and that ride got me only to mile 75 of 157. Tuesday night I stayed in the green shack halfway between Haines and her Junction. Ben and Kayla had also been planning on staying there and so we were reunited. Wednesday I tried for two hours to get a ride and had no success. Wanting not to miss my the ferry the next day I decided to ride to Haines. On the side of the road I saw my new favorite road sign. On top was a diamond shaped sign with an iconic image of a tractor trailer on a triangle, and beneath it on a rectangular sign was the following text: STOP AHEAD/CHECK BRAKES/STEEP DOWNHILL/NEXT 18KM. The ride into Haines was fun and beautiful and a little scary. Barb, the woman that gave me a ride to mile 75, told me that the land between Haines and the Junction has the highest bear population density of anywhere in the world. I saw only gophers. Once in Haines I quickly found Ben and Kayla. We camped in a free campground(!) and drank tee and ate carrots. Thursday we rode to the ferry terminal, boarded without hassle, and set sail. That night we stopped in Juneau for two hours and our new friend, Corey, gave us a quick tour.
Friday, 27 July: Ferrying all day. I don't want to seem fickle, but I think I've fallen in love with the sea. We stopped in Sitka and it was a cute town at 5am.
Saturday - Sunday, 28 - 29 July: Minutes after arriving in Prince Rupert we had met some strangers on the street who offered to let us stay at their house. They cooked us dinner (rice, sauteed asparagus and peppers, a big greek salad, and salmon with wasabi and soy sauce), gave us fresh, soft towels and let us use their bathroom and laundry, and cooked us breakfast (crepes with yogurt and fresh berries). Sunday afternoon Ben and Kayla pedaled on towards Prince George and eventually the States. With great difficulty I opted to give myself more time to rest. That night, with bicycle boxed and sent ahead of me, I boarded a bus headed south.
Monday, 30 July: Very bus-y day. At 10pm, 25 hours after boarding the bus in Prince Rupert, I was in Vancouver. There was still one bus leaving for Seattle that night, but I had sent my bike ahead using Greyhound Courier Express, and shipping service offered by the bus line, and if they were to ship across the border it needed to be done from Vancouver, and their office didn't open until 7am. I don't sleep well on buses or planes, and at 10pm Monday I hadn't slept since 6.30am Sunday morning. I decided to walk around and hope to find a hostel. A hotel room, I knew without checking, would have been too expensive, though I did meet a really drunk man on a park bench who offered to share a room with me. It was nice of him to offer, but I was happy to wander Vancouver in the middle of the night and marvel at the number of bicyclists and skateboarders I saw. That, more than anything else, impressed me. Eventually I found a hostel, but simultaneously found a 24-hour coffee shop. Rather than pay the $20 to stay in the hostel I opted to spend around $8 on three cups of coffee and a snack.
Tuesday, 31 July: I was back at the bus station at 5.30am. At 8.30, after a long and frustrating series of conversations with different Greyhound employees, each seeming to work under a different set of company guidelines, my bike and I were once again on a bus. Because of a long stop at the US border we didn't arrive in Seattle until 1.30pm. There I shipped my bike to Olympia, to my good friend and fellow Cyclonaut, Katie. In Seattle I wandered, drank coffee, and bought some zines for my upcoming flight. With what little gear I was still carrying I bussed to the airport, and that night boarded a flight for Syracuse. After making a connecting flight in San Francisco, after being awake and wandering for just over 65 hours, I got a little bit of sleep.
Wednesday, 1 August: Around 9am, with flights and connections done, I was on the ground in Syracuse. JTX picked me up at the airport and drove me to my mom's house. We hugged, caught up, and made plans.
So here I am now, back in central NY, the 315. I'll not update much while I'm here.
Monday - Thursday, 23 - 26 July: It took me two days to hitch a ride out of Haines Junction, and that ride got me only to mile 75 of 157. Tuesday night I stayed in the green shack halfway between Haines and her Junction. Ben and Kayla had also been planning on staying there and so we were reunited. Wednesday I tried for two hours to get a ride and had no success. Wanting not to miss my the ferry the next day I decided to ride to Haines. On the side of the road I saw my new favorite road sign. On top was a diamond shaped sign with an iconic image of a tractor trailer on a triangle, and beneath it on a rectangular sign was the following text: STOP AHEAD/CHECK BRAKES/STEEP DOWNHILL/NEXT 18KM. The ride into Haines was fun and beautiful and a little scary. Barb, the woman that gave me a ride to mile 75, told me that the land between Haines and the Junction has the highest bear population density of anywhere in the world. I saw only gophers. Once in Haines I quickly found Ben and Kayla. We camped in a free campground(!) and drank tee and ate carrots. Thursday we rode to the ferry terminal, boarded without hassle, and set sail. That night we stopped in Juneau for two hours and our new friend, Corey, gave us a quick tour.
Friday, 27 July: Ferrying all day. I don't want to seem fickle, but I think I've fallen in love with the sea. We stopped in Sitka and it was a cute town at 5am.
Saturday - Sunday, 28 - 29 July: Minutes after arriving in Prince Rupert we had met some strangers on the street who offered to let us stay at their house. They cooked us dinner (rice, sauteed asparagus and peppers, a big greek salad, and salmon with wasabi and soy sauce), gave us fresh, soft towels and let us use their bathroom and laundry, and cooked us breakfast (crepes with yogurt and fresh berries). Sunday afternoon Ben and Kayla pedaled on towards Prince George and eventually the States. With great difficulty I opted to give myself more time to rest. That night, with bicycle boxed and sent ahead of me, I boarded a bus headed south.
Monday, 30 July: Very bus-y day. At 10pm, 25 hours after boarding the bus in Prince Rupert, I was in Vancouver. There was still one bus leaving for Seattle that night, but I had sent my bike ahead using Greyhound Courier Express, and shipping service offered by the bus line, and if they were to ship across the border it needed to be done from Vancouver, and their office didn't open until 7am. I don't sleep well on buses or planes, and at 10pm Monday I hadn't slept since 6.30am Sunday morning. I decided to walk around and hope to find a hostel. A hotel room, I knew without checking, would have been too expensive, though I did meet a really drunk man on a park bench who offered to share a room with me. It was nice of him to offer, but I was happy to wander Vancouver in the middle of the night and marvel at the number of bicyclists and skateboarders I saw. That, more than anything else, impressed me. Eventually I found a hostel, but simultaneously found a 24-hour coffee shop. Rather than pay the $20 to stay in the hostel I opted to spend around $8 on three cups of coffee and a snack.
Tuesday, 31 July: I was back at the bus station at 5.30am. At 8.30, after a long and frustrating series of conversations with different Greyhound employees, each seeming to work under a different set of company guidelines, my bike and I were once again on a bus. Because of a long stop at the US border we didn't arrive in Seattle until 1.30pm. There I shipped my bike to Olympia, to my good friend and fellow Cyclonaut, Katie. In Seattle I wandered, drank coffee, and bought some zines for my upcoming flight. With what little gear I was still carrying I bussed to the airport, and that night boarded a flight for Syracuse. After making a connecting flight in San Francisco, after being awake and wandering for just over 65 hours, I got a little bit of sleep.
Wednesday, 1 August: Around 9am, with flights and connections done, I was on the ground in Syracuse. JTX picked me up at the airport and drove me to my mom's house. We hugged, caught up, and made plans.
So here I am now, back in central NY, the 315. I'll not update much while I'm here.
01 August 2007
Friday, 20 July: More time in Haines. There was coffee; there was improv theatre workshoping; there was walking in the rain and loving it; and, at midnight, there was Harry Potter.
Saturday, 21 July: From midnight until around 5am was time set aside for the Deathly Hallows, and then I got a bit of sleep before the improv workshop at 10. We improvised until 1:30-ish, after which I read some more of Potter. The improv performance was that evening, at 5:30, and we didn't stop having fun/making fools of ourselves until 9:30. Ben and I went to a bar in Haines, the Pioneer, for a concert and to meet the friend of a friend that could, maybe, give us a ride back to Haines Junction the next day. Immediately after milkshakes we met Julie and had our ride out of town and back to our bikes. She was fun, and we quickly dropped the "friend of a..." portion of the title and were actual friends. This was all taken care of so quickly that I only stayed at the show for one song, and then it was off to bed. It was a good song though. If I were a dancing man I would have been dancing then.
I think there might be a Pioneer bar in every town in Alaska.
During the afternoon we had a meeting about the trip. My tendinitis, though it was getting better, was still bad enough that I didn't think it wise to ride for a little while. Ben has a wedding to attend in Washington on the 19th of August, so though I needed more time, we also couldn't afford to simply take another week off entirely. We struck a compromise that allowed us to cover a significant distance as a group and allowed me to get a bit more rest - we took the ferry from Haines to Prince Rupert, BC. This saved us almost 1000km of riding and, since we weren't going to sail until Thursday, gave me another week to rest and, hopefully, heal. The downside, aside from not being able to ride, was that we ended up cutting out the Cassiar Highway portion of the trip. That would have been the last really remote, and most bear-dense, section of road. Maybe I can ride that portion next summer. I'd still like to see it.
Sunday, 22 July: Up at 6:00am and finished with the Deathly Hallows by 8. If you've not yet read it - don't. Unless you've read all the rest. In that case you should read it, and you'll probably enjoy it. I did. It ends predictably well, but it doesn't get to the end at all like I thought it would. I wish the epilouge weren't so sweet, and that it had more about the functioning of a post-Voldemort magical world. I'm kind of a sucker for those details.
We caught our ride out of town around 1pm and rode 40 miles to the Canadian Border. There we were denied entry into Canada. We were told that we were carrying insufficient funds. The Canadian border patrol officer who spoke with us told us that there was a law stating that we needed to carry $200 in cash for each day we planned on spending in Canada. The process of being denied entry took almost an hour, during which our friend, Julie, waited in her car while we were treated like children by the Canadian officers. If we were driving a nice car, the officer told us, he wouldn't insist we carried the money, but bicycles suggest poverty and the Canadian government shouldn't have to risk supporting foreigners. We spoke to a customs agent on the phone who told us that $50/day would be sufficient as long as we also presented an accurate, current bank statement. Assuming that it would take us 30 days to ride through Canada, we were expected to carry somewhere between $1500 and $6000 dollars in cash. That's insane.
Julie, who had to be back to her home in Whitehorse that night so she could work at 7am the next day, agreed to drive us back to Haines so we could go to an ATM. After getting $200 cash each and printing out bank statements we filled Julie's tank and were back on the road. At the border we were questioned by a different officer, one who had been in the room during the rejection process, but who had kept quiet and screened other travelers who had come to the border after us. He asked to see our money, and we showed him our $200 each. He shouted at us about not having enough for our planned two days in Canada and we corrected him and told him that the woman on the phone had told us $50 was fine. He then asked to see our bank statements. Ben and I produced ours, but Kayla's had gotten lost in the rush. He then began shouting again, this time directly at Kayla, and pounding his fist on the counter while berating her for failing to follow directions. Ben, Julie, and I looked on in shock. After a moment the officer noticed that Kayla was crying and we were looking at him in disbelief and he, I think, realized what a f-ing jerk he was being. He even looked a little embarrassed. He told us we could go through, but that when we entered Prince Rupert we had better have thousands of dollars or we'd have to buy tickets back to Juneau from there. It wasn't clear to me why we would have to go to Juneau rather than any of the half dozen closer ferry stops, but I thought it best not to raise the question then.
The conversation for the rest of the ride into Haines Junction was centered around our border incident, with each of us sharing our past experiences with overly aggressive keepers of the peace. In the Junction we bought Julie dinner and ice cream and exchanged contact info. She then left fot Whitehorse and we went back to Sally and Trevor's house for an early-to-bed night.
Saturday, 21 July: From midnight until around 5am was time set aside for the Deathly Hallows, and then I got a bit of sleep before the improv workshop at 10. We improvised until 1:30-ish, after which I read some more of Potter. The improv performance was that evening, at 5:30, and we didn't stop having fun/making fools of ourselves until 9:30. Ben and I went to a bar in Haines, the Pioneer, for a concert and to meet the friend of a friend that could, maybe, give us a ride back to Haines Junction the next day. Immediately after milkshakes we met Julie and had our ride out of town and back to our bikes. She was fun, and we quickly dropped the "friend of a..." portion of the title and were actual friends. This was all taken care of so quickly that I only stayed at the show for one song, and then it was off to bed. It was a good song though. If I were a dancing man I would have been dancing then.
I think there might be a Pioneer bar in every town in Alaska.
During the afternoon we had a meeting about the trip. My tendinitis, though it was getting better, was still bad enough that I didn't think it wise to ride for a little while. Ben has a wedding to attend in Washington on the 19th of August, so though I needed more time, we also couldn't afford to simply take another week off entirely. We struck a compromise that allowed us to cover a significant distance as a group and allowed me to get a bit more rest - we took the ferry from Haines to Prince Rupert, BC. This saved us almost 1000km of riding and, since we weren't going to sail until Thursday, gave me another week to rest and, hopefully, heal. The downside, aside from not being able to ride, was that we ended up cutting out the Cassiar Highway portion of the trip. That would have been the last really remote, and most bear-dense, section of road. Maybe I can ride that portion next summer. I'd still like to see it.
Sunday, 22 July: Up at 6:00am and finished with the Deathly Hallows by 8. If you've not yet read it - don't. Unless you've read all the rest. In that case you should read it, and you'll probably enjoy it. I did. It ends predictably well, but it doesn't get to the end at all like I thought it would. I wish the epilouge weren't so sweet, and that it had more about the functioning of a post-Voldemort magical world. I'm kind of a sucker for those details.
We caught our ride out of town around 1pm and rode 40 miles to the Canadian Border. There we were denied entry into Canada. We were told that we were carrying insufficient funds. The Canadian border patrol officer who spoke with us told us that there was a law stating that we needed to carry $200 in cash for each day we planned on spending in Canada. The process of being denied entry took almost an hour, during which our friend, Julie, waited in her car while we were treated like children by the Canadian officers. If we were driving a nice car, the officer told us, he wouldn't insist we carried the money, but bicycles suggest poverty and the Canadian government shouldn't have to risk supporting foreigners. We spoke to a customs agent on the phone who told us that $50/day would be sufficient as long as we also presented an accurate, current bank statement. Assuming that it would take us 30 days to ride through Canada, we were expected to carry somewhere between $1500 and $6000 dollars in cash. That's insane.
Julie, who had to be back to her home in Whitehorse that night so she could work at 7am the next day, agreed to drive us back to Haines so we could go to an ATM. After getting $200 cash each and printing out bank statements we filled Julie's tank and were back on the road. At the border we were questioned by a different officer, one who had been in the room during the rejection process, but who had kept quiet and screened other travelers who had come to the border after us. He asked to see our money, and we showed him our $200 each. He shouted at us about not having enough for our planned two days in Canada and we corrected him and told him that the woman on the phone had told us $50 was fine. He then asked to see our bank statements. Ben and I produced ours, but Kayla's had gotten lost in the rush. He then began shouting again, this time directly at Kayla, and pounding his fist on the counter while berating her for failing to follow directions. Ben, Julie, and I looked on in shock. After a moment the officer noticed that Kayla was crying and we were looking at him in disbelief and he, I think, realized what a f-ing jerk he was being. He even looked a little embarrassed. He told us we could go through, but that when we entered Prince Rupert we had better have thousands of dollars or we'd have to buy tickets back to Juneau from there. It wasn't clear to me why we would have to go to Juneau rather than any of the half dozen closer ferry stops, but I thought it best not to raise the question then.
The conversation for the rest of the ride into Haines Junction was centered around our border incident, with each of us sharing our past experiences with overly aggressive keepers of the peace. In the Junction we bought Julie dinner and ice cream and exchanged contact info. She then left fot Whitehorse and we went back to Sally and Trevor's house for an early-to-bed night.
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