Please Stop Raining...

July 22nd- 27th

Valdez-Cordova-Whittier-Hope-Seward-Anchorage

Alot more stuff happened, but it was all clouded over, by, well, CLOUDS. I found myself singing Rihanna's "Umbrella" to myself, and a more indecent 50-cent song because I was ever so soggy for the last days of the trip. I had dreamed of doubling up the trip since I had reached my goal so quickly, where to next? Seward (too close) Homer (bad roads)...Soldotna? Sterling? Once I was on the Kenai, though, I realized the traffic was denser, faster and well, people weren't giving me room anymore. Trucks were blasting by a hair's width away from me, RVs were racing past and there was tons of wet gravel and "glacier dust" covering every inch of the bag, the bags and ME. My feet had been wet for at least a few days now and I cringed to look at them. The Safeway bags weren't really working and I was out of dry socks. A fellow camper asked me how things were going, and I blurted, "Good. But I'm done."

The rain just took all the fun out of it. So, I ended up in Seward. I took the train back to Girdwood. I saw a bear. I saw a moose. I started counting the miles and although I would have like to continue my neck was really hurting now. Sharp stabbing pain flowed down my left side and there was a huge scary lump on the vertebrae. I was consumed with thoughts I would soon be Christopher Reeve, so I stubbornly packed it in.

In Achorage, I rolled up to my friend Liz's house and there ate all her food, played with her dogs, dried out and came back to life in a house. We had some great conversations and I continued my soon-to-end affair with the intriguing state of Alaska...

In sum, how can I explain what intrigued me so of Alaska? I think it has to do with possibility. Alaska isnt totally developed, inhabited, paved over, or even known. The native cultures do still exist and even live the way they always have. The few headlines I saw in the local papers had native issues as headlining stories. Native voices in the lower-48 are quite absent, but in Alaska they were voicing concerns about drilling and gas pipelines. Sure, the gas will bring temporary profit, but then what?

I feel there is a chance to do it right up here. Now, more than ever, modern business must develop land in sustainable ways; now more than ever we should share incorporate native attitudes about nature into our modern lives. I have often felt native culture and modern consumerism are inconsolable, but in Alaska, perhaps time has not run out. I dreamt of a future that meshed both, in an environmentally sustainable way, and I have hope this could be done in Alaska.

Alaska alaska alaska

Even Mother Nature has Favorites

July 20th- 21st Copper Center to Valdez and ferries

I spent a hellish evening in my tent at the Blueberry Lake campground. Like I previously mentioned, it had commenced raining and raining, so the higher up in the mountains I went, the colder, windier and rainier it got. I was accompanied by a group on a supported cycling tour and we passed and re-passed each other on the way to the top. One of the women took this photo of me near another glacier and the guide warned me to have good brakes on the downside. I had decided to camp at the rec center at the top because it had already been at least 80 miles and I was TIRED.

I rode in to a puddly foggy wet, very wet, and cold campground. It seemed like I was the only one there, but then I spotted some strange folks in a beat up van by the lake. I started getting freaked out and I hopped in to my tent as soon as I could. Then I was plagued with doubts and fears, "who were those weirdos? what was that snorting sound? i have no dry clothes left...what happens at night?" I tried to re-read a book I had hated the first time through. I read the soggy tourists brochures, tried to write in my journal; anything to stop thinking about what was soon to be jumping on top of my tent.

The campground host came by to collect my fee and I was relieved it was a woman. I stuck my hand through the tent peephole and gave her $15 bucks. I said, "When's the weather supposed to let up?" She just chuckled saying two days ago it was sunny. The weather seems to be a persistent bad joke. On that note, although I wasnt sleepy and a little hungry, I tried to close my eyes and sleep. Anything to get through the rainy evening. I must have bedded down about 6 PM, tossing and turning in my damp sleeping bag.

In the morning, I went down the mountain. I was cold, very cold and the rain pelted my face. I had this sense that it was probably the most amazing view ever- but I couldnt see it. At long last, I pulled in to the port of Valdez, and the clouds parted for the afternoon. I was right in the middle of a plateau and I could see all around me- high peaks, glacial cirques, waterfalls streaming from the mountainsides... After setting up the tent, I sprinted to a HOT shower. I never thought I would be warm again! After I rested I went shopping, did laundry, journaled, cooked, ate...all the basic camp chores. This sort of distracted me from the fact that I had made it. I was there. Valdez had been my goal and here I was. Yet, I was too early- I have a whole week left...Hmmm, Kenai Peninsula?

A $5 Shower

July 19th, 2008 Friday

Lake Louise to Copper Center

I was wondering how I would do without showering, and removing that piece of luxury was something I wanted to do to myself, but dang it, I am hurting for a shower.

I rode in headwinds to Glenallen. I felt like the scourge of the earth riding to the grocery store. Is everyone looking at me, or what? There were lots of other folks there stocking up as the town is a central place before embarking to the Wrangells (which is the second largest state park-did not know that). After buying some cans of tuna, cookies and 3 packs of rice-a-roni, I headed straight for the drive-up Java station. Ahhh, a double latte. Nothing like roughing it in the backcountry.

A couple noticed my road beaten bicycle and the guy asked me if I was on a bike tour. Why, yes, I am. Alone? Yes, I am. Silence follows. They looked outdoorsy but you could clearly see this was his dream and he wasnt following it for some reason, probably his girlfriend/wife, which is why I say, do it alone. Dont get me wrong, I would love to do some adventures with my hubby: what a perfect opportunity to bond by battling the elements and sharing the little moments of discoveries together. But looking at this couple, I remembered the suffocating strain that comes from compromising and the ensuing battle of wills. I know Robert would never do this. I have some friends that wouldn't enjoy this either. Heck, I'm not even enjoying every moment of this, but I would rather spend my energy keeping myself going than having to motivate somebody else or look at their rain soaked visage and feel guilty.

It's my private hell so don't bug me!

Then there is the lack of hygiene, which was the topic I started with. I arrived at Copper Center with about 2 miles to go- again, 2 miles that felt like 200. My hands were numb, my neck was seizing and shooting pain down my back, my skin was a disaster, my hair was a greaseball and slicked to my head, my bike shorts could probably finish this tour by themselves and there was no shower at the RV park. But!- in the liquor store there were showers and I sprinted across the gravel to take one. I enthusiastically paid $5 without even thinking, he could have charged $15 and I probably would have paid that as well. Granted the hot water turned to cold in 30 seconds, but lordy, this was heaven on earth...

It was about this area that I noticed that people are completely obsessed with fishing in Alaska. This intensified as I travelled onwards to Valdez and reached a crescendo in the Kenai...

Lake Louise

July 18th, 2008

Matanuska Glacier to Lake Louise

I will be honest, I was watching the miles yesterday and calculating how long it would take me to get to Glenallen, then Valdez, then on and on. Its really not good to do this because then you miss out on the moment, but I was tired. That is my excuse. So what to do? Get some friggin coffee, Im friggin freezing, Scott (say this with a Doctor Evil voice).

I am going too fast, yet I cant stop myself either. I have already made too many miles- I should have stopped more, done a rafting trip, or heli-skiing or some trekking. But, I came here to cycle- to ride!- and that is what I am doing...Lots of it. Today was a long day and I finished with an extra 20 miles off the main highway to Lake Louise. Just remember, 20 miles is 20 miles. Just like when you get to mile 18 in a marathon and think, "Oh cool, I only have 8 more to go..." but 8 miles is a good run, and 20 miles when you have already done 80-something feels like 20 million.

So I was stoked when I got to the sweetest state recreational campground on the lake with barely anyone there! I got a nice spot by the water where I could see the lake house resorts, hear the ducks and pass the launch beach when I went to the well to get non-potable water (yum!). I just love these state rec campgrounds- they rock! You pay $10-$15 bucks and nobody bothers you. Its just me and the tent, my little i-think-i-can stove, some smashed bread and some salty rice a roni to burn my mouth with.

The other cool that happened was I met another cycle-tourist! His name was Bruce and he appeared on the horizon as a black blob a half mile away that had me wondering, "is that a bear? a large duck? what the heck is that?" But, of course, its a bike tourer, the hardy, the few, the survivors. After the Apocalypse, you can be sure, that a few cyclists will emerge from the mushroom clouds loaded and ready to ride.

And loaded he was. He had some good tips for me about buying food in Glenallen, seeing McArtur, taking the ferry from Valdez to Cordova and to Whittier. He rambled on for a while in his Aussie twang before we parted ways. I commented to myself that my counterpart was an old, beat up looking man. Perhaps my inner soul belies my outside appearance, although at this point, I look pretty rough myself, as you can see in this picture (I didnt post the most unattractive ones.)

I do thank ole' Bruce for pointing out an enormous glacier that was behind me which I didnt even notice and would have completely missed. He said there was only a few places you could see, at the top of the hill and before the turn off to Lake Louise. I managed to catch it riding out to the lake and again in the morning- it actually scared me to look at. I wont try to describe it because you really have to be near it physically to get the full effect of its power.

Roadside Glaciers

July 17th 2008 Palmer to Matanuska Glacier

There arent many places I have been to with glaciers and these are definitely one of the unique things about Alaska. I didnt really know what to expect but somewhere down there off the roadside was the Matanuska Glacier, which the guidebook says is one of the most accessible glaciers in Alaska, a mere mile from the main highway.

Once again, I ditched my stuff at the campsite and proceeded to investigate. I had a long bumpy ride down a gravel road with tons of potholes. There I found "Glacier Park" which has a gate and a fee $15 and I had to sign a waiver. I dont know how these people scored to put a gate in front of a glacier, but it was sweet deal if you ask me. I continued riding down the half mile road singing Joni Mitchell "take paradise and put up a parking lot-doo doo doo." I guess the indigenous people had it right- how can we own the land, the sky and sea? But dont get me wrong, I would love to buy a little homesteader plot of land out here and put up my own fence...

There it was- a giant glacier- a frozen sea of ice raging through the mountains. I walked out following the orange cones, and the black turned to blue- glacial blue- which has a nice sound to it. It cracked and popped like ice cubes you leave on the counter. There was the sound of running water and a coolness to the air. I walked out to the "warning" sign and had no desire to pass it and disappear in to a crevasse like a frozen mammoth.

There's Nothing but Girls and Their Work Outs!

July 16th Monday 2008

I embarked today. Once I was all packed up and there was nothing left to prepare, I rolled the bike to the lobby of the Holiday Inn. I went through the double doors and donned my helmet. A couple of guys smoking barely looked at me, some tourists were taking photos by their SUV and an old man was reading a newspaper. This was it, and I shoved off with grey skies yet my heart was bursting- alive! in alaska! hope I dont die!

I rode along the coastline up to the downtown area. There were lots of runner, all of them women, and an old man with his dog. I stopped to take a picture, and he yelled, "There's nothing but girls and their work outs!" I chuckled to myself and yelled back, "You had better catch up!" So that was that- you can be scared of what might happen, or just go for it. I have often felt women get cheated out of solo experiences because we fear attacks, rape, etc...I am not one to do everything in groups and a little independence is good for you. I like making my own decisions, when to stop, when to take a picture, when to set up camp and when to break down. By myself I dont have to explain or justify or negotiate ANYTHING. I just do it and that is very liberating.

The ride was awesome. The first day is always the best. You could be slogging through a pile of dog crap and it just because its new, it will be awesome. At least that is how it is for me. So yeah, I rode through miles of construction, soft shoulders, hills, rain and clouds. The people at the campsite were complaining they couldnt see Mt Mckinley but I didnt care. I asked the Java Station drive up girl to tell me what I should see in the Palmer area. I pointed to the map with the squiggly line going off the main road. She said, "Hatcher Pass is a must." "Is it steep?" "Well, there is a hill."

I should have know a "hill" in Alaska would mean a mountain anywhere else, but I ditched my stuff at the campground and proceeded to the top. 1 hour turned in to 3, and cool weather turned freezing and I still wasnt at the mine. Then, just went I thought it was stupid to be killing myself on a 10% uphill grade, some SKATEBOARDERS went passed me downhill. It was testament to the fact that somebody will always outdo you, so thats why I don't typically brag or boast about anything. I was proud of getting up there and it was beautiful. A chipmunk nipped at my shoe and I took some more pictures and got some water. It was a perfect day and a perfect campground. Like I said, the beginning is always the best!

Synchronicity

July 15th Seattle to Anchorage

My horoscope said I would experience amazing events of synchronicity- whether that was predictive or I just started looking, we will never know. What I do know is that when you travel, you become more attuned to how the fingers of fate start locking together.

For instance, I was on the flight to Anchorage sitting next to a man that I thought was annoying. Who can say what tipped me off..the high squeaky timbre to his voice, his caveat about his snoring that may occur, the fact that he was taking too much of the armrest? Under normal circumstances, I would have avoided all interactions with him, but something in me decided to open up. I was taking photos of the mountains from the window when he asked me why I was coming to Alaska. I said in my typically obtuse and understated way, "I am biking around for awhile." Then he told me about his son, who rode from Kodiak to Haines a few summers ago. We chatted until we landed and I was so impressed that the person in the next seat over had so much to offer me on a topic that I needed so much information about. It was very inspiring!

I suppose any one that has traveled has their own synchronicity tales. They occurred to me often during the next two weeks, and in rather undercover ways that I only noticed by looking back at them. When the rain started coming down in sheets just before the Thompson Pass in to Valdez, I was stubbornly riding along determined not to stop NOR complain. A camper was parked in the pull out of the road, and I briefly stopped to have some water. Just then a woman popped out of the camper door to ask me if I wanted some hot soup. My first thought was no, but feeling that was rude, said yes begrudgingly and went inside their steamy camper. I never felt so claustrophobic in my life, and remarked to myself silently about the benefits of fresh air and travelling alone (without a bickering spouse). After a sandwich, cookies, hot soup and water, I continued on up the pass. It turns out that meal was the last one I had until the following afternoon and I was thankful for their kindness.

Other events came along in the form of unsolicited rides (when I didnt want to cheat!) through construction and up gravel hills and extra cups of coffee. I didn't want any of these handouts, but looking back they had their own value.

I remember the couple that appeared in front of the Cooper Landing cafe to tell me not to keep riding east up the Sterling highway because there was absolutely no shoulder and I was sure to die. That didn't stop me from considering it for over an hour, yet I eventually did turn back around and head to Seward. It was a little more than coincidental when I saw the same couple at a taco stand 3 days later in Anchorage on their Friday night taco-date night. They were so pleased to see me alive! Liz said it's a small town, maybe even a small state, which runs contrary to the fact Alaska is about half the size of the continental US, but we will take her word on it.

So, you just never know what links will lead you down the path youre supposed to be on. Oftentimes I force (Robert will tell you that) my will upon the outcome. It reminds me of another time when I got off the ferry in Cordova in the pouring rain, with the intention of riding 50 miles to the Child's Glacier at 6 PM. Surely, that would not have been enjoyable for more than 15 minutes, yet I stubbornly got out my cycling clothes and put some Safeway grocery bags over my socks. I was stuffing my feet back in to my wet sneakers, when the ferry/state parks woman asked me over to her house to stay the night and see "what the weather was going to do." It was there that she showed me a kayaking video, "Nanook of the North" and added to my knowledge about the area. I resisted taking the help, yet it was exactly the food for thought I was hungry for- fascinated by the arctic circle and reading about kayaking there, I was considering THAT as my next long distance adventure.

To be sure, Alaska was calling to me and I did follow. Even while I was there, I don't know how I ended up there, or why, knowing next to nothing about the entire state, and then here I was riding 600 plus miles by bicycle on my "vacation." Who knows? Maybe I should stop thinking so much and just tap in to the intuitive callings that are already screaming at me? Or maybe anything can make sense when you look back it?

Seattle to Portland bike ride

July 12th 2008

After much debating and deliberating, I decided to go ahead and do the event which I had signed up for. Somehow, when I booked the departures dates for this, the Alaska trip and Robert's departure to Africa, it had made sense. Clearly, I cannot be trusted when scheduling.

So the plan was this- leave 7 am on Saturday for the bike ride for Chehalis (110 miles away), camp with my new gear to make sure it worked out right, then Sunday ride to Portland (100 miles or so) and have Robert pick me up around 3 PM Sunday, drive back to Seattle, pack our stuff, box the bike and clean the apartment, drop Robert at the airport at 4 AM Monday, sleep for 2 hours, pick up Talya to drop me off at the airport at 7 AM...arrive in Anchorage, AK at noon to decompress before setting out on a two-week jaunt around the state.

To say the least, we were completely shattered by 1 AM on Monday.

Yet, it all worked out! The STP was long and exhausting, but fun. All my equipment worked out beautifully and I didnt need to get much more than a couple of loose ends. Then, Talya surprised me by giving me the name and number of a wonderful woman named Liz in Anchorage who turned out to be my HQ during the bike trip. She gave me suggestions, rides to the store, airport pick ups/drop offs, and above all, a safety net should something have gone wrong.

So my new motto is an oldie but a goodie- a mantra that has fueled me through numerous endeavors (mostly long distance bike rides), and that is, (not "whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger" although thanks to Mom for reminding me of that one) but:

Whatever you fear, you must do.