[Riding South] 7/24/2006 08:38:00 PM
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Assigned to e.apt.d...@gmail.com by me
Eric
Jul 24, 2006, 7:46:35 PM7/24/06
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Greetings from the capital of the Yukon,
I reluctantly left Anchorage after a week of most pleasant hospitality. Because of knee problems, Amee decided to remain and I continued on alone. The ride south was along the Turnagain Arm, an inlet which eventually connects to the Gulf of Alaska. It follows the channel and is lined on both sides with steep mountains, many still partially covered with snow. When the tide is out, large mud flats emerge. They have the consistency of quicksand. Tourists and animals occasionally perish after wandering out too far and drowning when the tide comes back in.
After a days ride, I reached the ferry which would take me to Valdez. The ferry was, as I'd hoped, a ride past huge glaciers that spilled into the water, an abundance of small icebergs and all manner of marine mammals. Sea lions dozed in the sun, puffins ("sea parrots") flew awkwardly around and seemed to crash into the water. Very occasionally a whale surfaced.
Valdez, known outside of Alaska because of an oil spill, is another small Alaskan town surrounded by water and mountains. The environment shows no obvious evidence of the spill (I'm told 90% of the ecosystem has recovered). The Alaskan oil pipeline ends here and is not noticeable except for a clear cut line of trees where it travels under the road. The scenery leaving Valdez is also most dramatic - through a canyon with walls many hundreds of feet high and dramatic waterfalls that spray down from the heights.
From the canyon the road rose 3500 feet high and it was a slow struggle to the top. After descending the pass, the terrain flattened out considerably and become much less dramatic. For the next ten days it would be the matchstick-like white pine stretching out into the distance and softer hills lining the horizon. This might have become a bit monotonous had I not begun to met a multitude of bicyclists. For two days I rode with a group of 60 van-supported (SAG) road bikers. They were friendly, providing most welcome company and generously providing all manner of sugary snacks. Many slowed down to my pace (which seemed a welcome rest for them) and chatted.
Motivated by the SAG riders, I rode hard to the crossroads town of Tok. Impressed by my efforts (or perhaps feeling sorry for my bedraggled appearance) a couple bought me dinner at a local bar. At the bar, I also met a modern day gold pioneer. Instead of gold, this young fellow had come up to Alaska to live off the land and await the coming real estate boom. By the time I left for the evening, his enthusiasm (and the drinks he bought) had me convinced riches were only a few years away. As I was riding out of Tok, I come upon a British cyclist. He had ridden up the previous year from Tierra del Fuego and spent the winter in Anchorage. For the next ten days we rode and camped together before he branched off east towards Toronto. The numerous questions I put to him were sagely answered and I left his company much enlightened about the road ahead and how to travel it safely.
The road from Tok to Whitehorse traveled through the sort of towns typical to Alaska and northern Canada. They are made up of a gas station, hotel, cafe and a few houses. They are separated by 50-200 mile stretches of forest and in the winter must feel entirely remote. The traffic that makes use of them are almost all long-distance truckers and RV campers. This section of highway has also not been quite as busy as I imagined. Perhaps 60 cars pass each hour. The shoulders are wide and the pavement generally in good condition.
The company of larger non-humans has been sparse. While riding through Anchorage I came upon a moose and her two calves (which paid me no mind). On a section of highway a coyote with a rabbit in it's mouth trotted along before noticing me and fleeing into the wood. Foxes occasionally come to spy on my campsite. The sharp cry of the eagle is occasionally heard. And once a black bear came to visit, knocked around my plastic bear-proof container (food) and ambled off into the woods. Most animals seem to keep their distance from the road and people.
About the time I departed company with Russell, Amee caught a ride from Anchorage and met up with me. It quickly became apparent that she was physically unable to ride. Despite a good effort she sadly returned to Anchorage. Hopefully, she will be able to join me a few months down the road. Her boisterous company will be missed.
Now that I'm riding solo, I've decided to change the route a bit. I'll be heading directly south through Vancouver, along the west coast of the United States and through the Baja penninusula (then continuing through Central and South America).
Disaster! Due to a computer/camera problem all the pictures from this section disappeared into the depths of cyberspace.
Eric
--
Posted by Eric to Riding South at 7/24/2006 08:38:00 PM
I reluctantly left Anchorage after a week of most pleasant hospitality. Because of knee problems, Amee decided to remain and I continued on alone. The ride south was along the Turnagain Arm, an inlet which eventually connects to the Gulf of Alaska. It follows the channel and is lined on both sides with steep mountains, many still partially covered with snow. When the tide is out, large mud flats emerge. They have the consistency of quicksand. Tourists and animals occasionally perish after wandering out too far and drowning when the tide comes back in.
After a days ride, I reached the ferry which would take me to Valdez. The ferry was, as I'd hoped, a ride past huge glaciers that spilled into the water, an abundance of small icebergs and all manner of marine mammals. Sea lions dozed in the sun, puffins ("sea parrots") flew awkwardly around and seemed to crash into the water. Very occasionally a whale surfaced.
Valdez, known outside of Alaska because of an oil spill, is another small Alaskan town surrounded by water and mountains. The environment shows no obvious evidence of the spill (I'm told 90% of the ecosystem has recovered). The Alaskan oil pipeline ends here and is not noticeable except for a clear cut line of trees where it travels under the road. The scenery leaving Valdez is also most dramatic - through a canyon with walls many hundreds of feet high and dramatic waterfalls that spray down from the heights.
From the canyon the road rose 3500 feet high and it was a slow struggle to the top. After descending the pass, the terrain flattened out considerably and become much less dramatic. For the next ten days it would be the matchstick-like white pine stretching out into the distance and softer hills lining the horizon. This might have become a bit monotonous had I not begun to met a multitude of bicyclists. For two days I rode with a group of 60 van-supported (SAG) road bikers. They were friendly, providing most welcome company and generously providing all manner of sugary snacks. Many slowed down to my pace (which seemed a welcome rest for them) and chatted.
Motivated by the SAG riders, I rode hard to the crossroads town of Tok. Impressed by my efforts (or perhaps feeling sorry for my bedraggled appearance) a couple bought me dinner at a local bar. At the bar, I also met a modern day gold pioneer. Instead of gold, this young fellow had come up to Alaska to live off the land and await the coming real estate boom. By the time I left for the evening, his enthusiasm (and the drinks he bought) had me convinced riches were only a few years away. As I was riding out of Tok, I come upon a British cyclist. He had ridden up the previous year from Tierra del Fuego and spent the winter in Anchorage. For the next ten days we rode and camped together before he branched off east towards Toronto. The numerous questions I put to him were sagely answered and I left his company much enlightened about the road ahead and how to travel it safely.
The road from Tok to Whitehorse traveled through the sort of towns typical to Alaska and northern Canada. They are made up of a gas station, hotel, cafe and a few houses. They are separated by 50-200 mile stretches of forest and in the winter must feel entirely remote. The traffic that makes use of them are almost all long-distance truckers and RV campers. This section of highway has also not been quite as busy as I imagined. Perhaps 60 cars pass each hour. The shoulders are wide and the pavement generally in good condition.
The company of larger non-humans has been sparse. While riding through Anchorage I came upon a moose and her two calves (which paid me no mind). On a section of highway a coyote with a rabbit in it's mouth trotted along before noticing me and fleeing into the wood. Foxes occasionally come to spy on my campsite. The sharp cry of the eagle is occasionally heard. And once a black bear came to visit, knocked around my plastic bear-proof container (food) and ambled off into the woods. Most animals seem to keep their distance from the road and people.
About the time I departed company with Russell, Amee caught a ride from Anchorage and met up with me. It quickly became apparent that she was physically unable to ride. Despite a good effort she sadly returned to Anchorage. Hopefully, she will be able to join me a few months down the road. Her boisterous company will be missed.
Now that I'm riding solo, I've decided to change the route a bit. I'll be heading directly south through Vancouver, along the west coast of the United States and through the Baja penninusula (then continuing through Central and South America).
Disaster! Due to a computer/camera problem all the pictures from this section disappeared into the depths of cyberspace.
Eric
--
Posted by Eric to Riding South at 7/24/2006 08:38:00 PM
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