August 18 – 24, 2024
Sunday, August 18 (Day 16): It was truly a day of rest. It was delightful. Since leaving Anchorage, I’ve ridden every day and slept in a different spot every night. It is a rare luxury to wake up knowing where you will lay your head that night and not having to expend energy to get there.
That’s not to say I wasn’t busy. The morning was devoted to the blog. I had fascinating conversations with several of the travelers passing through these portals. One of the hostel hosts is a young woman from Osaka, Japan. Last year, without any experience with such things, she bicycled across Canada! Coast to coast! We had many lovely conversations. An Italian couple had taken pack rafts down the Yukon River. Liv and Noah were on their return journey to Portland after motorcycling all over Alaska. A woman from Edmonton (PCT through hiker and accomplished bike packer) was on a road trip with lady friends, hiking every day along the way. Everyone has a story. I simply have to ask, “What’s your adventure?” All that talk made me thirsty, so it was off to the hub of Haines Jct, the Village Bakery, for a sandwich and Yukon Brewing “Lead Dog Ale.”
For a rest day, this would have been enough. I ended up spending a great deal of time and brain energy deciding, “What’s next?” On to Calgary? The “Golden Circle?” The regular AK highway instead of the more remote Cassiar? I listened to each option making a compelling case to be chosen. I interrogated each vigorously, “Why should I choose you? What makes you special?” I consulted Sharon. I tried to honestly evaluate my own motivation and interest level. Eventually, plans were made. I fly home to Durango from Juneau on September 1st. It has been a good trip – no, a great trip! I feel, though, that it has been enough. Even with the new plan, there is much travel and exploring to be done.
For those of you wondering since last week’s cliffhanger: my shy kidney stone either passed undetected during the night (one can hope), or is waiting for a more inopportune time to make it’s escape.
Monday, August 19 (Day 17): I left town early with a full belly – thank you again Village Baker. I also left with only a slightly full-er food sack. Slim pickins in these here parts. I left town eager for the next stage of my journey. In defiance of the 100% forecast for rain, the sun broke out. Expecting rain and getting sun? Brilliant! It was a rare T-shirt and shorts day. The lakes, ponds, and sky seemed more blue. The trees, bushes, and flowers a more vivid green. The mountains – more majestic. On a day like this, headwinds and hills didn’t phase me. They were simply part of the scenery. I was in my happy place.
Unbeknownst to me, I had been passed on the road earlier by Liz and Jim. They gave me a warm welcome as I rolled into the campground. After chores, I was invited to share a beer with them and the rest of the clan. Son John and wife Mariela from Juneau, and John’s childhood friend Riley. What a fun and fun-loving group of adventurers. What a privilege to be welcomed into their embrace for an evening. I went to bed that evening full, filled with experience and friendship.
Tuesday, August 20 ( Day 18): I awoke early to the sound rain drops hesistantly tapping the tent. “Sorry to bother you boss!” This was not unexpected. I rushed to pack and moved under cover at one of the cooking shelters. My plan was to get things sorted properly and move on after breakfast. Then I met Xavier.
Xavier is thirty-one and originally from Montreal. He now resides in Whitehorse. He is a Phy. Ed. teacher who takes youth on outdoor adventures – some quite grueling. He is a part-time guide. He just returned from a twenty-one day trip as an assistant guide on an Arctic river canoe trip. We planned to have breakfast and go our separate ways. Heavy rain and stomach issues had me reluctant to leave. The thought of a third cup of coffee had Xavier reluctant to leave. So we started a fire and began to chat. What followed was hours of wide-ranging and, at times, intense conversation. I think neither of us wanted it to end. As morning turned to afternoon, it was finally to bid adieu.
Outside the shelter – cold, raw, waves of water. Inside, dry with a warm barrel stove. I saw no need to leave. My new plan offers a great deal of flexibility in how I fill the next two weeks. An afternoon reading, writing, and gnoshing seems a perfect way to spend a rainy day. Plus, I have Xavier’s local knowledge assuring me this storm will blow through and bring clear skies and a cold north wind to help me on my way south.
It was not the day I planned. It was far better! I’ve learned to embrace these unexpected moments as the gifts they are.
Wednesday, August 21 ( Day 19): Eyes open. Xavier was half right. Sunshine on the tent. Yes! A clear night also meant frozen water bottles and frost everywhere. Only two thousand vertical feet separate me from fresh snow on the surrounding peaks. No worries, though. It is a bluebird day.
Less than half mile down the road my front tire felt squishy. Quick stop to patch a leak, and I’m off again…uphill for five miles. It’s going to be that kind of day. Before long, I’m joined by my old friend the headwind. Can’t say I enjoy the company, but it doesn’t matter. The riding today is spectacular. The terrain to Haines Pass reminds me of the Arctic along the Dalton Highway down from Prudhoe Bay. Remote. A scale that is humbling. I want days like this to never end.
Slowly grinding up a long hill I was a startled when a car slowed and kept pace alongside. “Hey mate! Need some water or food?” Please, and thank you! I was down to my last 1/2 liter thinking I should stop and filter some. Aussie Rick and Cash graciously topped me off and sent me on my way, buoyed by their exuberance and kindness.
The payback was worth all the climbing. With gravity on my side (finally) the miles flew by. I could just sit back and enjoy the view. My last night in Canada was in a quiet clearing next to a rowdy stream. Good stuff.
Thursday, August 22 (Day 20): Yesterday – sunshine. Today – the familiar pitter patter on the tent. Crap! I burrowed deeper into my bag. I hate a wet tent in the morning! Thirty minutes later, I heard silence. I took advantage of this tiny weather window to get on the road without everything else getting soaked.
Top to bottom rain gear was the order of the day. Not to be outdone in doling out misery, the headwind piled on for the last sixteen miles. Really?? Even with suboptimal conditions, it was possible to admire the massive, braided glacial rivers surging toward the ocean.
I spent an afternoon in the Haines library, drying out, warming up, and making plans for the next ten days here, in Skagway, and Juneau. The forecast for the entire region complicates planning somewhat.
By day’s end, I am dry, warm, and have what seems like a workable plan to remain so in each of these locations. Oceanside RV would normally not be my “go to” camping spot. It is a blacktop parking lot filled with hulking behemoths. In one corner, however, a tiny plot of grass has been set aside for tents.
Bonus points for a) a location literally feet from the ocean, b) in town next to groceries, restaurants, and a brewery, and c) a modern clubhouse where I can take a hot shower and get out of the rain.
Friday, August 23 (Day 21): Last night, I overheard two women answering questions from an inquisitive twelve year old girl. From their answers, I gathered they were in rowing sculls on some sort of trip. I’ll say!!! Laura and Ashlie built their own boats, then paddled here from their home on Vancouver Island!! “Epic” hardly encompasses what they’ve accomplished. I was up early with them, chatting and watching as they packed their boats for the last time. When they arrive in Skagway later today, their trip will be over! Wow! Congratulations! If you’re interested, check out their Instagram page rookie.rowers. It is a hoot!
Today was a special gift. The forecast is for rain everywhere, every day until I leave AK. Instead, clouds dissipated enough to offer stunning views from Mt. Riley.
Clouds continued to dissipate, so I took advantage of the sunshine. I walked around town. Talked to locals. Talked to folks here in the park. Called Sharon. Texted family and friends. Enjoyed easy access to a well stocked grocery store (perhaps too much?) The day passed about as quickly as it took you to read about it.
Saturday, August 24 (Day 22): For three weeks I’ve camped in bear territory. I’ve seen footprints and scat, but (thankfully) no Ursus Arctos Horribilis in the flesh. This morning at 3am I was jolted awake by a handheld airhorn and someone shouting, “Get the F&@* out of here!” I correctly assumed it was the brown bear that’s been active in this area. I few moments later I heard loud splashing twenty feet below my tent as the bear made its way along the beach. Rather than stay in my bag like a giant corn dog, I got out with my bear spray to make sure she was, in fact, moving along. Good thing I decided not to moisterize with my bacon grease body creme!
A few hours after that excitement, Daniel and Hannah arrived, after twenty straight hours on the water.
For eighty-five days they pedaled, paddled, and of course sailed this tiny Hobie all the way from Seattle. They strapped the SUPs to the amas for gear storage and lounging space. Amazing!!!! I’m beginning to feel a bit inadequate. Clearly I’m going to have to up my game to stay in this campground.
It was a raw day, but until the rain started in earnest, I wanted to see as much of Haines as I could. As Frost said, “Knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.” It seems unlikely I will pass this way again. So to satisfy my curiosity (and get some exercise) I rode around town, then out along the coast.
Like so many places in Alaska, it is beautiful – but life here is hard. Almost everyone, it seems, does the shuffle and works more than one job to make ends meet. Summer is short and moist. And of course the winters…well. A local state trooper told me about the challenges of raising his family here, and keeping his children occupied during the long, dark winters. I met a young woman in her 20’s. She was born and raised here. She loves Haines. She loves guiding river trips for cruise ship passengers. Well, she loves being on the river. “Come February,” she said, “it starts to get grim. People kind of start to lose it.”
All that said, everyone I’ve talked to loves it here. I suppose those that don’t, don’t stick around. As a tourist, I simply enjoy the beauty, and move on. Which is what I’ll be doing tomorrow. But that’s another story. So until next week – keep living the dream. STC!
