Ride to Calgary: August 11 – 17, 2024

Sunday, August 11 (Day 9): Latitude – 63.3359 degrees North. Two hundred seven miles south of the Arctic Circle. This is as far north as I will travel on this trip. Good thing. Overnight lows have been in the 40’s. Even if I didn’t have the Weather Channel showing some 30’s coming up, the fireweed and aspen are sending a clear message. “Go south!” I’m happy to oblige.

After the long day yesterday, I’m in no rush. I took care of the blog. I waited, again, for the tent fly to dry after more overnight and morning rain. Said farewell, again, to the German boys at the grocery store. Turns out they aren’t invincible. They too had a lie in and are planning a “light” day. “Ja, we will only ride maybe 100 kilometers (62 miles).” Gag! OK – definitely more invincible than me.

Coming up is a long stretch without reliable food sources. Loaded down with adequate food supplies, my ride feels more pack mule than bicycle. A bit concerning that it won’t all fit into my Kevlar bear sack. More incentive to eat I guess. One last vital task before leaving town – I had to find a stamp for a certain granddaughter’s birthday card. No easy task on a Sunday. None at the grocery store. “Does the post office have a kiosk?” The clerk laughed, “Aw honey, this is Alaska!” OK. At a touristy gift shop I was told, “No we don’t sell those – but here, I have some in my purse you can have!”  Ah, the milk of human kindness. Thank you.

Card posted, I turned my sights toward the Canadian border.

With tired legs, my light day was only twenty miles to another gravel pit. May not sound attractive, but the view was four star!

Monday, August 12 (Day 10): Low energy day today. Tough on this “coast and climb” green tunnel stretch. The broad Tanana River valley made an occasional appearance to my right,  but mostly stayed hidden behind a green wall of trees. 

There was exactly one building in the first thirty miles today. I was puzzled to see these signs out front.

In this remote region, I have difficulty imagining a locust like horde of cyclists seeking “services” from a beleagered homeowner. Good on him (her) for coming up with such an excellent solution to the plague of bikers. I wish him (her) a happy, bike free life. 

Minor Irritation #17: Bugs flying into the vents of my helmet and crawling around on my naked head.

Minor Irriation #18: Wiping dead bugs off my head every time I take off my helmet (cf #17)

In this part of AK there is no shortage of places to wild camp. Still, I like to use IOverlander as a resource. This app led me a mile off the highway to Deadman Lake Campground. It is free. It has clean bathrooms. It has free firewood. It has canoes that are free to use. And even better, it hasn’t started raining as soon as the tent was up. I was actually able to rinse off in the lake and cook a proper dinner.

Some interesting people have found their way to this out of the way spot. Louis from Anchorage and a number of other volunteers are here helping tag waterfowl. After the wind died, Louis and I took one of the canoes out for a spin around the lake. Working in the oil industry, he spent  years in some fascinating places around the globe, with Anchorage as home base for the past thirty years. It was a pleasure boating and chattting. I can’t imagine a better way to spend my last night in the U.S.

Tuesday, August 13 (Day 11): I am now officially (I believe) on my longest solo journey. Sharon texted me recently, “Did you make the right decision?”  To take this solo trip, she meant. On balance, yes. Perhaps you’ve heard the saying, “Joy shared is joy doubled. Misery shared is misery halved.” In the moment, there is no sharing. Alone, the highs are good. I can’t help thinking how great it would be if Sharon could see or experience this thing I’m seeing or experiencing. The lows are perhap a bit lower without another person encouraging or someone else to laugh off the absurdity of what we’re doing. But yes. I am glad to be here. I am seeing sights that are mine alone. I’ve met wonderful, encouraging people along the way. So far, I wake up every day excited to go farther down the road.

I’ve now crossed the border into the  Yukon Territory, so I am making progress. I do find it slightly ominous to see the fresh layer of snow dusting the local mountain tops.

Wednesday, August 14 (Day 12): The green tunnel has opened up today. I’m loving the wide openness that stretches, seemingly, into infinity. It is also a bit daunting. Imagine the world from the perspective of an ant. How big the world must seem. Imagine you are that ant making your way across a Walmart parking lot. Looking out across this immense landscape – I am that ant. When I compare my miniscule daily progress to the distance yet to travel … it almost withers the mind. I’m reminded of a scene from Bill Bryson’s book, “A Walk in the Woods.” In a camp store, Bryson sees a four foot tall map of the Appalachian trail. He was crushed to realize that after walking endlessly, he had traveled five inches. Perhaps it would be best to avoid such big picture stuff and just enjoy each moment.

Speaking of enjoying moments…tonight at Lake Creek Campground, Debbie stopped by to inquire about my trip. I accepted her gracious offer of a beer if…I could drink it in their company. She agreed. Debbie and husband Rick are newly retired and are roaming the north, enjoying their new found freedom. It was a very pleasant moment. Thanks

Thursday, August 15 (Day 13):  Yesterday wore me out. I put down my book at 9:30pm which was not unusual. It was highly unusual to see 8:00am on my watch after a night of unbroken sleep. I decided early on that I’d be OK with fewer miles today, especially since headwinds slowed progress considerably.

Odd Occurrence #11: A woman stopped her pickup truck in the road. We chat. She says, “A few miles back I saw a pipe on the road. I couldn’t stop (???) but you should probably move it if you see it. (???) Me: “OK – I’ll look for it”

The route to my chosen camping spot for the night took me down a rough gravel road for half a mile. Suddenly, I found myself on an abandoned (but paved) portion of the original Alaskan Highway.  Trees and shrubs crowded the edges, but the road was still very driveable. In this remote area, along an abandoned roadway, I came across a very much forgotten “memorial” to First Lt R.R. Small. He died during the construction of this highway during WWII. I wonder how many travelers today realize the contributions made by the Lt Small and others.

I chose a premium site along the banks of the Kluane River. Under the blue dome of a high pressure system, it was warm enough to rinse off. With tent set, bathing duties done, and water filtered, I settled down for a much needed rest with a good book. 

While this was one of the more attractive sites I’ve found, I will confess that I kept my bear spray close at hand. 

Friday, August 16 (Day 14): I woke at 2:30am to answer the call. In such a remote location, I expected a good view of the Milky Way. Instead, I was stunned to see the green glow of the northern lights. They are mesmerizing. In part of the sky, a narrow river of green stretched north to south from horizon to horizon. To the NE, a curtain like ribbon danced. What a gift!

After such a great afternoon and evening, I started the day with high hopes. Those hopes were quickly thrown into the Bass – O – Matic 3000 and pulverized. A great and mighty wind rose out of the south and smote me with its fierce anger. I worked very hard to ride more slowly than Sharon typically hikes. During those long hours, I began thinking that anything, other than biking, seemed like a good idea. 

The icing on the cake, the strawberry on the kegger, was when a steaming sack of excrement playing at being human nearly killed me with his “camper!” I was well on the shoulder, but he drifted across the white line. I heard the mirror whooosh by inches from my head. Already in a good mood, I unleashed a torrent of “unkind” words in his direction. Sometimes two middle fingers just aren’t enough!  I whiled away several hours dreaming of an angry confrontation if I should come across him at a wayside or camground. Probably just as well our paths did not cross…again.

My foul mood was lifted when I finally arrived at Congdon Creek campground. It was filled with pleasant people who restored my fairh in humanity. Although seeing an electrified bear fence around the tent area had me questioning  some of my other life choices (i.e. campsites).

Saturday, August 17 (Day 15): Late last night Chelsea from Boulder, CO rolled into camp. On sabbatical from a small non-profit, she is seizing the carp (and overachieving, methinks). So far she’s ridden the Divide trail from Boulder up into Canada. Looping around on forest service roads and trails to get around the fires, she finally made her way back south to Bellingham. She took a ferry north to Haines, and we met several days later. In spite of the lateness of the season, she has aspirations to bike large swaths of remote Alaska. Her optimistic enthusiasm was contagious (and much needed).

No wind today. Lush colors. Snow capped peaks. Lakes. Rivers. Etc. Etc. Etc. In almost all respects, it was a perfect antidote to yesterday’s ride from Hell. It would have been perfect, with the possible exception of the steak knife jabs into my right kidney. I believe I was feeling the beginnings of a kidney stone making its journey to the sea. Previously, things have escalated quickly from onset  to a few hours of agony before the stone passed. Can’t say I’m excited about the prospect. Today, things did not progress beyond the occasional stabbing pain…so I kept riding. As I write this at a funky hostel in Haines Jct, I am puzzled (and pleased) that it has not progressed. I hope I’m wrong, but I expect there may be some fun stuff yet to come. 

That happy note is perhaps the right time to reveal that the “fun” of the last two days has me rethinking my desire to ride all the way to Calgary. I’m a firm believer in never making a big decision during a bad day. So I’ll  chill here at the hostel for a day or two and mull my options. Fortunately, there are no bad choices.

How’s that for a good old-fashioned cliff-hanger ending? Tune in next week.  Same Bat time, same Bat channel!