Europe 2025 – Back Behind Bars #7

On September 21, 2025September 21, 2025 By KBGearDaveIn Biking Stuff, On the Road3 Comments

Austria

Day 35: Sunday (9/14/2025). “Every day is a gift. That’s why it’s called the present.” A cliche, yes, but today was a gift. We expected heavy rain all day, and on cue it started in the wee hours. Faced with the gloomy prospect of a soggy day, we said, “Let’s just have a lie in and spend the day here.” Decision made, we both got back to our books. Thirty minutes later the rain paused, the sky looked hopeful, and suddenly there was no rain in the forecast. Within an hour, we had packed, said farewell to Craig, Coralee, and an Irish lad backpacking barefoot from Istanbul to his home. (Sure, why not?)

Given our expectations for a soggy day, riding along a scenic (rain free) stretch of the Danube was certainly a gift. And when we arrived at a random campground for the evening, we were blown away. Across the river, perched on a hillside above the village of Durnstein, were the ruins of yet another 12th century castle. It’s claim to fame is that King Richard the Lionheart (of Robin Hood fame) was held prisoner there in 1192-1193. He had been captured on his way back from the Third Crusade. What a day!

Day 36: Monday (9/15/2025). Upstream, the hills close in and the Danube carves its way through the Wachau valley. Terraces dating back to medieval times are filled with grape vines. The wine produced here is apparently well known – by those who can afford to buy it. The seventeen mile route to Melk is dotted with castles, abbeys and quaint villages. It is a lovely ride.

Grapevines on medieval terraced hillsides

Since Vienna, we have followed the famous EuroVelo cycle route along the Danube River. What’s not to like about flat riding through mostly scenic countryside? After three days we are not bored exactly. But we have started to weary of the sameness. So, a few miles past Melk, we turned left towards the foothills of the Alps. Good choice. We were treated to quiet country lanes through rolling hills and small towns. Bonus points for being off the bike tourist superhighway that is the Danube cycle path.

Hike a Bike. Definitely not the Danube cycle path

Day 37: Tuesday (9/16/2025). On previous trips, we have averaged 600-700 miles each month. Since leaving Helsinki just over a month ago, we have traveled 1,100 miles. We’re tired. Our bodies are tired. Faced with another rainy day, we decided to hole up in Wieselburg for a day and do nothing touring related. Three loads of laundry in a proper washing machine. Stretch. Read. Write. Do some bike maintenance. But mostly, just rest!

Martin came by to chat while I was working on Sharon’s bike. He rather sheepishly admittted that he was staying at the hostel tonight because “my girlfriend – she does not like me much right now!” Ouch! In the evening, he came by our room and we had a nice chat. Clearly, though, he was a hurting, lost soul. He was desperate for company and even offered to buy us a beer in town. We obliged him for a time but retired much sooner than he would have liked. Later, we overheard his side of a tearful, impassioned phone call. We assume it was with his significant other. Hard to say whether or not he is back in her good graces.

Day 38: Wednesday (9/17/2025). Today was dubbed the “EKG ride.” A profile of our route looked like an EKG heart scan. Up a hill. Down a hill. Up another hill. Down another hill. Add to that a healthy headwind and you have all the ingredients for an extra special workout. This came as no surprise. The wind was forecast, and we are skirting the northern edge of the alps. Hills are sort of to be expected. But the narrow winding country lanes were blissfully free of traffic. The picturesque villages and countryside more than compensated for the hard work. This evening, we make our home on the outskirts of Steyr.

Riding the *“Most rad route”* dude! That’s how we roll.

Day 39: Thursday (9/18/225). “This looks vaguely familiar…” We had a deja vu moment as we rolled into Steyr. Then it clicked. We’d been here three years ago on a previous bike trip. We didn’t remember the name, but we could hardly forget the city. It is still just as lovely. We revisited a few sites. We poked into some previously unseen corners. We enjoyed our second breakfast from a local bakery then headed out of town. Yesterday had been a butt kicker, so we dialed back our ambitions and set modest mileage goals today. The hills and headwinds still gave our backsides another boot. And yet, it was a glorious day.

We rolled into Adlwang expecting a short snack break. Instead, Gerhard and Ava wandered over and struck up a conversation. They were curious about our trip. They graciously then took the time to give a brief history and tour of the village. Apparently, the 1300’s era church here is a popular pilgrimage site. In a few weeks, people from the surrounding towns will make the journey to Adlwang. They also led us to a small chapel with a small spring. Splashing the water on your eyes is meant to offer good vision and a good life. Ava’s mother spoke of coming to this same chapel when she was a small child. Lot’s of history here. Had Ava and Gerhard not stopped, we would have missed so much.

Gerhard belongs to a photography club and writes for the local newspaper. He asked if he could write our story. Of course! I guess we may become minor celebrities! (I’ll attached the link at the end). What a wonderful surprise. As always, people are the highlight of our day. Shortly after our tour guides left, we stopped by the local grocery. We ended up chatting with the grocer for another fifteen minutes. Such pleasant people.

Buoyed by those experiences, the final miles to our campground…still crawled by. One last hill brought us to a site looking out over the nearby town of Sautern. To the south and west, the expanse of Austrian alps. A bit intimidating knowing our route heads in that direction. We spent an amiable evening talking to a few of our campground neighbors. A cyclist riding from Salzburg to his home in Vienna. A retired couple from Denmark wandering Europe in their caravan. These are the days we will remember.

Day 40: Friday (9/19/2025).

It is a cruel irony that the mountainous landscape we love is also the most difficult to travel on bikes. Even the lumpy foothills are a challenge. Fortunately the headwinds relented today. And as we turned south towards and along the Attersee, we had tailwinds and some flat ground. Yay.

The Attersee is stunning. Crystal clear water. Surrounded by mountains and rolling hills. On this day, hundreds of sailboats were enjoying the fresh breeze. The 43K road around the lake is a favorite for cyclists. We saw hundreds in our few miles along the lake to our campground. Tomorrow the “King of the Lake” bike race will unleash many hundreds of cyclists all seeking glory and personal best times.

Dilemma…should we stick we around for the beer pong tournament???

Day 41: Saturday (9/20/2025). Our ride today was divided into three distinct stages. A cool, morning around the south side of Attersee and Mondsee. This came with a generous side of jagged peaks and fellow cyclists. Phase two was a very hot low gear grind through farm fields to a high point on our way to Salzburg. And finally, miles and miles of glorious downhill coasting to the outskirts of town. As Sharon noted, probably the easiest thirty miles of hard biking we’ve done.

Our visit to Salzburg coincides with the annual St Rupert festival. At this point, I know nothing about it. Apparently it involves large numbers of people dressed in traditional Austrian garb drinking lots of beer and eating what looks like amazing food. We gathered this from a bus ride and brief walk around downtown after dark. Tomorrow when we have more time, we intend to fully embrace the festive atmosphere.

Until next week – STC!

Here is the link to Gerhard’s article

https://www.meinbezirk.at/steyr-steyr-land/c-regionauten-community/mit-den-fahrraedern-von-helsinki-nach-zuerich_a7628035

Europe 2025 – Back Behind Bars #6

On September 14, 2025September 14, 2025 By KBGearDaveIn Biking Stuff, On the Road1 Comment

Slovakia, Austria

Day 28: Sunday (9/7/2025). Several years ago, we hosted a Swiss couple in Flagstaff. They were in the midst of a multi-year world trip in a customized Land Cruiser. We found it amusing that they wanted a “vacation” from the vacation that was basically their life. Now that we’ve been traveling for a few years – we get it!

After a week of challenging riding in the mountains, we were ready for a day of “vacation” if you will. We slept in (sort of). We had a decadant breakfast, lounged, loafed, surfed, read, wrote, did chores, but mostly accomplished quite a lot of nothing. We fully embraced the “off” of “day off”. We expended some energy strolling around historic Zilnia. A local Indian restaurant helped us avoid a caloric deficit. Our reaction to the flavors bordered on the restaurant scene from “When Harry Met Sally.” People wanted what we were having!

Day 29: Monday (9/8/2025). Two things generally guide our daily agenda. Are there sites of interest ahead? Is there camping to be had within a reasonable distance in the direction we are traveling? The town of Trencin ticked both boxes.

As expected (and hoped for) riding felt good after a day off. Slovakia kindly provided silky smooth bike paths along the Vah River for a much of our route.

What civilized people…sustenance available right on the bike path.

Nothing dramatic today, just pleasant riding with interesting sights. We had an unexpected surprise as we entered the outskirts of Trencin.

After we met in Poland, Victor and Valentine took a different route through the Carpathian mountains. As we entered Trencin we were surprised and delighted to be hailed by our French friends. The previous night they had stayed nearby with a Warmshower host family. When we met them, they were suffering from an excess of hospitality the night before. They had hoped to travel farther, but opted instead to call it a day and camp with us in Trencin. We were happy for it. We camped along the Vah River, in the shadow of Trencin castle. An inscription on the rock below the castle has been dated to a Roman battle against Germanic tribes in 179 AD. My brain melted picturing Roman legions camped in this same area.

Late afternoon we’d washed away the sweat and grime from a long day in the saddle. Dinner was done. All that was left was several hours of pivo and pleasant conversation with Valentine and Victor.

Day 30: Tuesday (9/9/2025). “Age and treachery will overcome youth and skill. This quote is often attributed to Italian cyclist Fausto Coppi. Our new friends are less than half our age. Together, we had agreed on a destination almost sixty hilly miles closer to Bratislava. As Valentine woke up and looked through her tent door, the first thing she saw was Sharon and Dave riding away on the opposite bank of the Vah River. Given their youth, we decided we needed a head start!

The ride was not unpleasant but was also unremarkable. We have no pictures from the day, which probably says all you need to know about this part of Slovakia. Showing the wisdom of age, we also chose a different route from the youngsters, thus avoiding a plethora of hills. We were showered, fed, and rested by the time Valentine and Victor arrived. Since we appear to be in Slovakian wine country, a local red wine fueled the evening repartee. (Very passable, I say, very passable).

Day 31: Wednesday (9/10/2025). We’ve learned often that making plans based on a weather forecast is a fool’s errand. The forecast today, though, was hard to ignore. Severe flood warnings in the Bratislava area suggested we prepare for rain. We left early together and made a dash towards Bratislava to hopefully avoid the worst. We arrived only slightly dampened.

By the time the heavy rains did arrive, we cared little. By then, we had parked ourselves in the corner of a friendly pizza place. The storm raged outside, but we barely noticed as we lounged over dinner. In Europe, a meal is not to be rushed but savored. It is an opportunity to while away the hours in the company of friends. And so it was.

We learned from Victor, that someone in his family traced their ancesty back to the 1500’s. In all that time, it seems few in his family had strayed more than a few kilometers from their hometown! Remarkable! Valentine’s grandmother remembers hearing gunfire from the D-Day landings. Valentine grew up idolizing an Aunt’s godmother who fought in the French resistance. Only when the staff began to close for the evening did we think to brave the rain back to our respective homes.

Day 32: Thursday (9/11/2025). We started the day with a walking tour of Bratislava. Like so many small countries in this part of the world, for much of their history, Slovakia found itself at the mercy of the big players on the world stage. That seldom worked to their favor.

Agatha, a natural healer burned as a witch outside the city gates in 1603

After the tour, we strolled the city before meeting with Victor and Valentine for another night on the town. It was a day well spent pursuing knowledge, and enjoying food and friendship. La vie est belle!

Day 33: Friday (9/12/2025). Forty miles separate Bratislava and Vienna. A route of mostly dedicated bike paths brought the four of us to the outskirts of Vienna.

Although we played tag with rainstorms from time to time, it wasn’t a grueling day. Still, by the time we arrived at our campground, none of us felt motivated to do much more than clean up, eat and retire for the evening. Due to traffic, train, and related urban noise, the campground lacked charm – and it was expensive. But it’s location was convenient, as evidenced by the dozen or so other cyclists camped in the tent area.

Day 34: Saturday (9/13/2025). It was a sad morning. Valentin had washed all their clothes and hung them to dry. Heavy rain overnight made a mess of that. Then we said good-bye to our traveling companions. We’ve grown comfortable very quickly and will miss their company.

For years, we’ve heard Vienna spoken of in hushed, reverantial tones. We were looking forward to seeing the sights. After an hour of being jostled about in historic downtown, we said auf wiedersehen to Vienna. It was nice enough. It just did nothing for us.

We actually enjoyed the street art on the way out town more than we enjoyed the city.

A few hours along the Danube brought us to Tulln for the evening. I was prepping our bedroom, and it looked to be an early evening. Then Craig and Coralee rolled in next door. They hailed from the Lake District in the UK and were biking toward Budapest. When we met later to chat we learned about bike trips and a six week canoe trip down the Loire River in France. It quickly became apparent that we are kindred spirits. We shared stories and beer until well after our bedtime. What a happy end to another week behind (handle) bars. Until next week – STC!

Europe 2025 – Back Behind Bars #5

On September 7, 2025September 7, 2025 By KBGearDaveIn Biking Stuff, On the Road4 Comments

Poland, Slovakia

Day 22: Sunday (8/31/2025). Today we sought out hidden gems and random sights around Krakow. Loved riding and walking around town with no agenda.

Day 23: Monday (9/1/2025). Be careful what you wish for. We have thus far (perhaps foolishly) throughout the flatlands bemoaned the topographical sameness. That changed today. As soon as we left Krakow, the roads pitched up, and the hills just kept coming. Our legs burned. Salty sweat burned our eyes. In spite of that, the landscape, the views, and the downhills had us grinning all day.

Late afternoon, the map said we had arrived at the campground that was our destination for the day. We weren’t sure. There was a fenced in field of nicely tended grass with one gentleman sitting under a pavilion. With a computer assist, he assured us that this was his campground. He very kindly accepted half price for the night (the remainder of our Polish cash). The site was perfect. The only sound was gentle white noise from a nearby stream. We had a hot shower, a cooking facility, and electricity. And when he left a bit later, he asked me to lock up for the evening. How cool.

Even better, shortly after we arrived, Valentine and Victor rolled in. They are currently two months into a twelve month hiatus from work. They left home in Normandy, France and are taking a grand tour of Europe, and east through Turkey. Good for them for making it happen. So glad our paths crossed, and we had the opportunity to make new friends. Bonne chance on your journey, Valentine and Victor! Hopefully our paths will cross again.

Day 24: Tuesday (9/2/2025). Such good company, and so many interesting stories! It was hard to leave this morning. It would have been easier had we known what glories awaited us. Sure, the first climb started immediately and continued for ten plus miles. And yes, it was muggy. And yes, there was a headwind. But the hard stuff paled in comparison to the riding. We pedaled through an area known as Gorczański Park. Then we skirted east of the High Tatras mountains which form a portion of the border between Poland and Slovakia. At appropriate intervals, interesting villages appeared. We traveled on lightly traveled roads and dedicated bike paths. The last several miles were along a path following the Dunajec River through a Slovakian National Park. Stunning, and even better because it was unexpected.

Day 25: Wednesday (9/3/2025). Rain was in the forecast overnight. Sure enough, in the wee hours it came knocking. Our little tent took a beating, but did its job admirably.

Lying comfortably warm and dry in the tent, neither of us was eager to head into the soup. Some sites said it was going to rain all day. Some sites forecast it to end by 8:30am. In this day and age of picking “facts” to suit you, we picked the “rain ending soon” weather site. Good call. Right on cue, the celestial sprinklers turned off. Still, it was a foggy, soggy day. The air was so thick we needed Moses to part the waters in order for us to pass through on dry ground. Low gears got another workout today – and it was glorious.

Very often this is what “riding” up steep hills looks like

The same site that correctly predicted an early end to rain, also predicted dangerous thunderstorms in the afternoon. We were very aware of dark clouds quietly lurking behind us on our way to Poprad. With no campground available, we sought refuge in a guest house before the skies opened. The storms were a bit underwhelming, but we felt smug having dodged another drenching bullet.

Day 26: Thursday (9/4/2025). Today we moved out of the mountains and headed west through a broad valley between the High Tatras mountains on our right, and the high forested ridges mountains of Nizke Tatry National Park on our left. A lengthy bike path along the Poprad River led us out of town. Then we fell into a predictable pattern. We rode through a series of small towns separated by large hills. Mountains all around kept us entertained while we fought gravity.

We ended the day near the small town of Vavrisovo in a hostel/campground. For the princely summer of $13 we had showers, a full kitchen, a comfortable sitting room, and what I value most – silence. Some workmen were staying idea in the hostel area. Google translate allowed us to satisfy the curiosity of one gentleman. It also allowed our new friend to extoll the virtues of his country.

Day 27: Friday (9/5/2025). Four days in a row of hot, hilly, hard days of biking had us thinking “rest day?” Might that day be today? We discussed it. By day’s end we were fifty miles farther west. The answer was “no!”

Pretty sure this is what tourists come to Slovakia to see

With an earlier than normal start, we took our time and poked around little towns like Svit, Strba, and Vazec. We wandered bike paths, dirt two-track, and even some gnarly single track. We saw the Slovakian version of “Wisconsin Dells-esque” touristy shlock. And still, by noon we had covered thirty miles. The rest of the afternoon we enjoyed payback for all the climbing done in the past week. We followed the Vah river on its gradual path to the sea all the way to our campground outside Turany. We celebrated being alive at the end of this glorious day with a cold beer, a frosty radler, and grilled ham and cheese sandwiches. Yay us!

An unexpected highlight of the day was meeting Pavol. A trail we were following ended unexpectedly, and we had to backtrack through the town of Stankovany. Our second visit in town seemed like a good time for a short break. A friendly gentleman rode over on his bike and attempted to chat. We had few words in common yet communicated well enough to have a heart-felt moment. One of the joys of travel is making those connections – however brief. Thank you Pavol! (happily he emailed us the next day and we’ve been able to talk some more).

Day 28: Saturday (9/6/2025). Rain overnight into the morning hours. Nature gave us a good excuse to laze about in our bags, until the other nature rudely forced us out into the rain. Rest day today? Weather radar showed clearing later in the morning. We packed, had breakfast in the common lounge area of the campground. Once the rain did, in fact, clear, we set off again. No rest for the wicked, apparently.

The Vah River valley continues to delight. At one point the valley steepened and deepened, and the ruins of an ancient castle suddenly loomed above us. Even as we were making plans to explore that one, another even more impressive castle appeared. We had to stop. In doing so, we stumbled upon a whole medieval themed children’s festival. The castle itself dated back to the 1200’s. The only way to see it, however, was in the company of very nice, very Slovakian speaking tour guides. That yielded surprisingly little useful information. It also made us painfully aware of our foreign-ness. The guide spoke, the group nodded thoughfully, asked questions, and laughed at all the appropriate times. We stood to the side silent and clueless. Still a worthwhile visit.

A bike path continued from the castle along the Vah River all the way into Zilina. Sharon found us a lovely (and inexpensive) guest house for two nights. We have decided that this will be the site of our elusive rest day. We are looking forward to doing laundry, making phone calls, finishing the blog (me), updating Polar Steps (Sharon), reading or listening to our books, surfing, eating, etc. May not sound restful, except for the salient feature – no bikes. We love riding, but absence even for one day really does make the heart grow fonder.

Four weeks on the road. Eight hundred miles. Six countries. This is starting to feel like a real trip! Until next week- STC!

Europe 2025 – Back Behind Bars #4

On August 31, 2025August 31, 2025 By KBGearDaveIn Biking Stuff, On the Road3 Comments

Lithuania, Poland

Day 15: Sunday (8/24/2025). A quiet room. No miles to travel. No reason to rush out of our comfy bed. A full hotel breakfast awaiting our arrival. A city waiting to be explored. Books to read. Blogs to write. Breaking bread, sharing stories, laughter, and serious moments with our new friend Andre. Time to reflect on our forty years together. Time to be grateful that we have the health and means to dream about future adventures. LUXURY! It was a very good day in Kaunas.

We clean up well.
Enjoying ethnic Georgian food and beer. AWESOME!

Day 16: Monday (8/25/2025). It was meant to be an ambitious day. We found a campground fifty-two miles south of Kaunas. Well within our range, especially after a rest day. As we were packing our bikes, however, it started to rain. Then it poured, drizzled – paused – then misted, sprinkled, deluged. Well, you get the picture.

Speaking of pictures – wall art as we left Kaunas.

Generally, we find the idea of riding in rain worse than the reality. When you’re in it, with the right gear, you can be mostly comfortable. But after several hours of non-stop moisture, we stopped to evaluate. We certainly could have done without the cold walls of water sent up by passing vehicles. Weather radar showed storm cells moving through the area all day. We were chilled sitting inside a grocery store, plotting our next moves. The vote was unanimous. Sod it! Let’s be done for the day.

A few miles later we rolled into the resort town of Birstonas. We were welcomed to Vila Liepe by the friendly, albeit non-English speaking, proprietor. Showered and warm, we actually enjoyed listening to waves of rain play their thunderous melody over our heads. From the comfort of our beds, we could imagine cycling long distances and arriving in Poland tomorrow. We shall see.

Day 17: Tuesday (8/26/2025). For most of us, most of the time, weather is a minor concern, sheltered as we are in our homes and cars. On bikes, we feel naked, exposed, and at the mercy of the elements. A tailwind gives us wings of an angel. Wind on the nose slows us to a soul-sucking, thigh burning crawl. Blue skies lift our spirits, and rain has us questioning our life choices.

Yesterday’s non-stop rain gave way today to sullen skies that dampened our spirits, and random squalls that dampened everything else. Still, the countryside was pleasant enough, and we had a goal. Late afternoon saw us crossing into Polska. Success!

Day 18: Wednesday (8/27/2025). Ah, Polska! Land of silky smooth roads (mostly), beautiful lakes, forests, and fields. A constant refrain is “I feel like we’re in Wisconsin!” Small wonder that close to 10% of Wisconsin’s population claims Polish ancestry. Early settlers must have felt right at home.

After two soggy days, sunny skies and friendly people brightened our mood considerably. Even Komoot’s insistence that we take dirt tracks through the forest didn’t bring us down. We ended the day watching the sun set, beer in hand, in the pleasant company of other touring cyclists. We met the Muller’s from Germany in our campground near Augustow. As always, it was enjoyable hearing their adventures and sharing stories.

When mosquitoes chased us into the tent, we did some math. Total distance yet to travel divided by number of days left equals – oh crap! – more miles than we want to ride every day! We pondered. We Googled. We discussed. In the end, we devised a plan to have a bus deliver us to Krakow after a stop off day in Warsaw to see the sights. We will miss a large swath of “Wisconsin-esque” countryside. But the trade-off is a more realistic pace for the remainder of our ride.

Day 19: Thursday (8/28/2025). Augustow lived up to its billing as a “touristy” town. Entrepreneurs offer endless opportunities for visitors to have fun. Much of it is centered around the chain of lakes surrounding the town. With summer winding down and kids heading back to school soon, people were out in force enjoying the warmth. We enjoyed it as well prior to our bus ride south.

After a few moments of panic trying to find our bus, we were whisked off to Warsaw. The busy-ness of Warsaw was a bit jarring at first. It seems like we’ve seen more cows than cars since arriving in Poland. (I exaggerate). Now we have to contend with cars, trucks, buses, trams, hordes of pedestrians, bikes, electric scooters, road construction, and signs that remain stubbornly unprounounceable.

It all reminded me of a quote by author Bill Bryson, “I can’t think of anything that excites a greater sense of childlike wonder than to be in a country where you are ignorant of almost everything. Suddenly, you are five years old again. You can’t read anything. You have only the most rudimentary sense of how things work. You can’t even reliably cross a street without endangering your life. Your whole existence becomes a series of interesting guesses.”

Very quickly, though, we settled into this new urban rhythm. We found our home for the night. We joined locals in their evening stroll along a pedestrian walkway. We enjoyed three P’s…piwo (beer), pierogi, and people watching.

Day 20: Friday (8/29/2025). Imagine walking around any city in America as a first-time visitor. You might walk past or poke into some tourist shops, if you happen to be in the right part of town. You might see some interesting buildings, parks, or historical plaques. Without local knowledge, you would leave that town really knowing very little about the people or the place. How different it would be if a local showed you around.

Today, Taisa told us about her city. How her grandparents fought in the tragic Warsaw Uprising against the Nazis late in the war. How, in many parts of the city, 80-90% of the buildings were reduced to rubble by German bombing. How her father was “volun-told” by the Soviets to spend summer break from school clearing that rubble from the city. How no money from the U.S. Marshall plan went to help Poland, because, definitely through no fault of their own, they were under Russian control. Mixed in with all the history, she shared stories of modern life in Warsaw and Poland in general.

Old Town 2025. Shortly after the war, this area was rebuilt to look as it had prior to its destruction.

A 1950’s “gift” from the Soviet dictator.
It is known by many here as Stalin’s penis

We are huge fans of “free” walking tours. The cost is whatever participants choose to give the guides. I am sure Taisa was well compensated for two and a half fascinating hours.

After the tour, Sharon and I parted ways for solo exploration. Later, we found our way back to the pedestrian mall for slightly different P’s … Pączki, piwo, and more people watching. Well done Warsaw!

Day 21: Saturday (8/30/2025). FOMO is a real thing for me on bike rides. Saying “yes” to one route, de facto means saying “no” every other possibility. I want to know what is down the roads “not taken”. So taking a bus almost always triggers a severe FOMO reaction – but not today.

There were some lovely stretches between Warsaw and Krakow, but enough scenes like the picture above to feel good about our decision.

We felt even better about our choice when we left the bus and rode downtown. Krakof (as the locals pronounce it) felt comfortably worn and welcoming. The buildings (not the people) escaped the devastation visited upon other Polish cites. Here, as elsewhere, Jewish people suffered terribly at the hands of Nazi murderers.

Portion of wall surrounding the Jewish ghetto in Krakow. The walls were purposely built to look like Jewish tombstones to further demoralize Jewish people trapped inside.

Once again we are reminded of what happens when a country’s leadership makes it “OK” to hate ‘other’ people. Removal of basic human rights. Inhumane treatment. Concentration camps. Hatred of whole classes of ‘others’ leads to the same place, not just eighty years ago and not just far away. (e.g. Alligator Alcatraz) Shame!

Being flexible with our “no plan” plan has served us well in our travels. Occasionally, it jumps up and bites us in the butt! “We’re in Krakow,” we said. “We should visit Auschwitz and Birkenau,” we said. Good idea! We even arranged transport to make it a day trip from Krakow. Who knew that the Auschwitz Memorial site limits the number of visitors? Who knew that tickets are spoken for weeks and months in advance. Not Sharon and Dave!! That’s who. Oh well. As Forrest Gump would say, “That’s one less thing!”

We arrived in time to take a walking tour of Old Town. Apparently, taking a stroll around Old Town Krakow on a balmy Saturday afternoon sounded like a good idea to thousands and thousands of other people as well. Understandable. It is beautiful, and as always, filled with amazing twists and turns of history, political intrigue, a fire breathing dragon, even Mongol hordes.

Thus ends another week on the road. These past three weeks and 600 miles have been challenging, entertaining, and enlightening. They have also given us a very different experience than previous trips. It’s hard to pinpoint any one reason. Circumstances. Decisions. Regardless, we are both feeling more like a part of the “Touristing Hordes” than the “adventurers” we fancy ourselves to be. We are learning much, but connecting little. Hard to say what the next week(s) will bring. Whatever comes, you can read it here next week. Same Bat time, same Bat channel. (I’m dating myself). Until next week. STC!

Europe 2025 – Back Behind Bars #3

On August 24, 2025August 24, 2025 By KBGearDaveIn Biking Stuff, On the Road5 Comments

Latvia, Lithuania

Day 8: Sunday (8/17/2025). Sounds of nature: Waves crashing on the beach. Wind whooshing through the trees. Raindrops pattering on the tent. THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP of techno music from the party site rocking hard until the early morning hours. The really nice (free) Estonian Forestry campground came with one big downside – weekend warriors curating their playlist for everyone else to hear. If ever I were to find myself behind bars, people like that would be the cause.

We added a third country to our trip early this morning. Other than some unused border control infrastructure and an EU sign, there was little to mark the crossing.

*I don’t often enjoy an “Arizonas” burger, but when I do – I get mine in Latvia!*

After several miles though, the three foot wide shoulder shrank to eight inches. Heavy traffic on a narrow road equals stressful riding. Unfortunately, in Latvia, few options exist. Our only choice was to put our heads down and grind out twenty or so miles until the shoulder widened again, and eventually we were able to get off the main road.

Food and rest breaks are a regular part of every day. Bus stop shelters, beach picnic areas, or even a handy road sign works in a pinch.

After showers and dinner at our campsite, we shared a beer and stories with Walter. From northern Italy, he has literally traveled the world by bicycle. As so often happens when we hear stories from a fellow traveler, we are inspired to follow in his footsteps and explore new parts of the world.

Day 9: Monday (8/18/2025. Today we set Riga in our sights. In an effort to avoid busy highways, we may have overcorrected a wee bit.

The dirt track was actually the best part of getting into Riga. We arrived via an industrial portion of the city gridlocked with heavy traffic and made worse by endless road constructon. Once past that, though, we were immediately taken with the city. Calming parks. Street performers. An old town area begging to be explored. A funky bar serving up local brew and Boomer classic rock. Prieka!

Day 10: Tuesday (8/19/2025). Up until this morning, we had judged Latvia as consumers of experience. We judged and had found wanting an entire country based on our poor experience as privileged cycling tourists unhappy with the roads. Then we visited the Museum of the Occupation. It chronicled in chilling detail, the brutal reality of being caught between two megalomaniac dictators bent on world domination.

Before the war, Hitler and Stalin secretly agreed to divide up the world, and not play in each other’s sandbox. Per the plan, Stalin muscled his way into the Baltic states. But then Hitler reneged on his deal. Latvia paid the price as German troops rolled through in his ill-fated campaign against Russia. Near war’s end, Russia fought its way back into Latvia and the Baltic states – and then didn’t leave until 1991. Words cannot describe the horrors visited upon the Latvian people during those years. Stalin and his successors used every cruelty known to mankind to subjugate the nation. Yet, through all that, the hope and determination to be a free and independant nation never died. That day finally came in 1991 as the Soviet Union’s flawed system disintegrated.

The video of this act of defiance to Soviet rule brought us to tears.

Two takeaways from our visit. First is the realization that this country does not exist to provide us with a tourist “experience”. The Baltic countries are filled with real people, living real lives, doing their best to overcome a history more traumatic than any of us can possibly fathom. That knowledge has led to a deeper appreciation of this country and our time here.

The second takeaway is more disturbing. When Joseph Stalin took power, he systematically dismantled the institutions of government and assumed those powers for himself. Stalin demanded absolute loyalty by those around him and was surrounded by sycophants who heaped praise on his every word and action. During the war, and after, during the occupation, citizens were fed a daily helping of obvious lies and disinformation. “The shelves in the stores are all bare!” Stalin’s reply? “Fake news! Under my brilliant leadership, perhaps the best leadership ever, you live in a paradise!” Those who took exception to the fantasy being peddled by Soviet authorities were ‘disappeared’ to distant gulags by nameless, faceless minions in the KGB. “Due process” be damned!

It is impossible not to see the current U.S. president doing the same things. And even worse, to watch so many blindly following the presidential pied piper leading people to a dark place. A dark place that so many hundreds of thousands here fought and died trying to escape. I say this as I would to a friend who smokes. Please stop. I know it’s hard. I know it is an addiction – but it is ruining your life.

I thought these thoughts during a long, introspective solo stroll around Old Town. Appropriately, I ended my walk at the Freedom Memorial. Symbol of Latvian national unity, freedom and independence. It was a good day! It felt like an important day.

Day 11: Wednesday (8/20/2025). We bid adieu to Riga, and Komoot guided us safely beyond its borders. Perfect conditions today: cool, mostly sunny, and tailwindy. We stopped for lunch in the beautiful city of Jelgava, and stocked up on groceries for tonight and tomorrow. With no campgrounds along this stretch, we managed to find a hidden spot tucked away in the woods near Uzini. We felt certain we would go unnoticed. Naturally a woman wandered by shortly after we had crawled into the tent. She said nothing to us, but now we shall be pondering the possibility of follow-up visits. Hopefully not.

Day 12: Thursday (8/21/2026). We got an early start this morning. Seemed prudent given that our site wasn’t quite as hidden as we’d hoped. As we packed we were surprised to see our breath. This far north summer hasn’t quite left, but you get the sense it’s bags are packed and stacked by the door. Hats and gloves made their first appearance.

Along a lonely stretch of gravel road we crossed into Lithuania with only a small sign to mark our passage. Country number four in less than two weeks.

In Lithuania we again faced a difficult choice…highways or back roads. Secondary roads were rough gravel and had heavy farm activity kicking up rocks and dust.

The main roads were worse. Drivers from behind were generally considerate. Most pulled over gave us a little space. Although, like drivers all over the world, no one would think of slowing down if a safe pass wasn’t possible. The worst though, was when *@#$% oncoming drivers would cross into our lane to pass. Time and again we dove for the ditch to avoid the fate of bugs on a windshield. Our middle finger salutes and screamed profanities had no effect on those trying to kill us. In the end, we opted for the farm roads and pieced together a bumpy route south.

Two highlights today. During Soviet occupation, the practice of religion was heavily restricted. In defiance of Soviet oppressors, locals planted crosses on a small hill. The Soviets would burn, bulldoze and knock down the crosses. And every time, the crosses would reappear. The Lithuanians refused to let the Soviets take away this imporant part of their culture. The Hill of Crosses became a symbol of freedom, defiance, and national unity. The Hill we saw today was a pale touristy shadow of its former self, but the history behind it is inspiring.

The second highlight came during a walk around Siauliai. We met Andre, a fellow cyclist from Colombia. As one does, we shared a beer while sharing stories. After attending a cousin’s wedding in Tallinn, she decided (again, as one does) to ride her bike to Bonn, Germany – solo. We immediately fell in love with her zest for life and made plans to meet again tomorrow.

Day 13: Friday (8/22/2025). Yesterday will be remembered for the beating our bodies took on rough back roads, and the mental toll from riding the highway of death. Today will be remembered for the blossoming friendship with Andre, insightful conversation, sunshine, rainstorm pizza, and a the “exceeds expecations” campground at the end of a long day.

We met Andre on the outskirts of Siauliai and rode south together. As a solo traveler, I think Andre appreciated the company. For our part we enjoyed hearing stories about her life in Colombia. Her love for her country was infectious, and we appreciated her opening a window for us to see a slice of Colombian culture. Perhaps a trip to Bogota is in our future? Perhaps we will get to play Colorado tour guide to a delightful individual? One never knows.

Day 14: Saturday (8/23/2025). We are fully engaged in working our “No plan plan”. Within the space of hours we had decided to head southeast to Kaunas to take a bus or train into Poland. Looking ahead, time might be an issue and this would save a few days. Then we decided just to bike straight south towards Poland. Then we decided to bike to Kaunas with Andre, take a rest day, and celebrate our anniversary (40 years!!). We decided to decide later whether to continue via human power or public transport.

Today could have been a brutal day. We’ve left the flatlands behind and are now crossing an area of rolling hills. We expected a low gear struggle fest against headwinds. Pregnant clouds suggested the possibility of rain. Instead, the miles fairly flew by with the sun (mostly) on our faces and a breeze at our backs. We dodged one vicious rain squall in a dodgy abandoned building. We conquered La Autopiste de la Muerta, and Google Maps thinking we could ride down hundreds of steps. We made a good team, we three. Yay us.

The glamorous life of long distance cyclists

Thus ends our second week back behind (handle) bars. We are looking forward to a celebratory rest day. We have cycled nine of the last ten days and covered over 400 miles. We are ready for a break. We are also looking forward to new countries, new friends and new experiences ahead.Until next week – STC!

Europe 2025 – Back Behind Bars #2

On August 17, 2025August 21, 2025 By KBGearDaveIn Biking Stuff, On the Road3 Comments

Helsinki, Estonia

Day 2: Monday (8/11/25) … After what seemed a long night of sleep, I awoke and checked my watch – 11:15pm!! What!! Clearly, jet lag was messin’ with me. I woke again at 1:00am to find Sharon also awake. Curses! We were exhausted, and yet we hopscotched in and out of sleep all night. After breakfast, I lay down to rest my eyes for a moment and woke up two hours later. You may now officially revise your image of us (me) as rugged adventurers.

Eventually we went exploring. Helsinki, and Finland in general, have some interesting history. For 500 years Finland was under Sweden’s thumb. In the early 1800’s Russia won some war, so their thumb replaced Sweden’s. By 1917, Finland was ready to move on and broke up with Russia. They changed the locks and unfriended them. In 1939 Russia said, “I want you back! You belong to me.” (a la Ukraine). Finland said, “Nuh uh!” and fought a bloody war to keep Russia at arm’s length. They succeeded but decided to date Nazi Germany just to make sure Russia left them alone. In 1944, Finland had enough again broke up with Germany. “Really, it’s not me – it’s you! And no, let’s not be friends.” Since then, Finland has been happily single. That is until Russia got stupid in Ukraine. Then Finland said, “We’ve seen this before!” In 2023 they swiped right on NATO and has happily been in a relationship since then.

YAWN! I get it. Unless you’re a history nerd (like me) all this old timey stuff is pretty boring. Here’s the thing though. History tells you something about the character and priorities of Finland. When you know what they did to fight off the Russians in 1939, you learn something about the toughness of these people. You understand why it’s no big deal to jump from a steamy sauna into freezing water through a hole in the ice. You perhaps understand why, after having been bullied by others for so many centuries, they make such a big deal about protecting people’s human rights today.

*Some days you’re the sea gull,*
*some days you’re the statue.*

There is much we admire, and some aspects of Helsinki that we love. Overall though, Helsinki is a big city. We hold no special love for big cities. Tomorrow, we move on.

Day 3: Tuesday (8/12/25). The plan: Get up early. Bike a 10 mile loop on a bike path around the downtown area. Have breakfast. Take a leisurely ride to catch the ferry to Tallinn, Estonia. The reality? Have another weird night of interrupted sleep. Rise to pouring rain. Punt the bike ride. Eat breakfast. Check the ferry schedule and (oops!) realize we have to scramble madly to pack and race across town with just barely enough time catch the ferry. (It was technically closed, but they took pity on two elderly and clearly confused senior citizens).

*Kova and Peter saying good-bye to Helsinki.*

Surreal scene: On the two–three hour ferry between Finland and Estonia – live music by a Romanian band singing Elvis Presley covers and “Take Me Home Country Road”. In another room, hundreds of people intently playing Bingo.

As we whiled away the hours on the crossing, we talked. Neither of us feels that we’ve started our trip yet. We feel like tourists. We’ve walked around with other tourists doing the usual touristy things in touristy places. I guess that makes us tourists. We don’t like being tourists! Moving to Tallinn did little to change our status.

Old town Tallinn is lovely. It is a beautifully preserved medieval walled city filled with cobble streets winding between picturesque old buildings. Like so many historic sites though, the buildings are filled with shops designed to separate boat loads of cash from a sea of tourists. These places feel hollowed out…more like a Disney recreation of a historic city than a real historical place.

Day 4: Wednesday (8/13/2025). We are beginning to think that my lack of energy is more than just jet lag…a virus perhaps?? After breakfast, while Sharon wandered the streets, I slept the morning away. Unheard of in my world! I did manage to get my act together in time to take an excellent walking tour. Our guide dressed in period clothes and shared the history of the region through an engaging series of stories. I won’t bore you with the details. Suffice to say that the details of how Tallinn became one of the most important trade cities in Europe was fascinating to me. And for a time, it even had the honor of having the tallest building – in the world!

In more recent times, Estonia is beyond thrilled to have gotten out from under the Soviet boot. They gained their independence in 1991. Talk to anyone here – there is no love for their former malevolent overlord. Nor is there any love or respect for a modern world leader who panders to Russia’s dictator.

After an evening stroll to see unseen parts of the city, we retired to our room to organize and pack. After yet another day of “touristy” stuff, we are very ready to hit the road tomorrow.

Day 5: Thursday (8/14/2025). It is amazing to me that we could exit a city of almost half a million people and almost completely avoid city streets. In fact, most of the day we rode on dedicated bike paths…through cities and towns, as well as for mile after mile along rural highways. How civilized! Sharon grows weary of my exasperated questioning of why we can’t come up with anything close in the richest country in the world. I shall henceforth endeavor simply to enjoy, rather than compare.

Speaking of our ride, it was simply…lovely. Not spectacular. Not take your breath away beautiful. As our grandson used to say, it was “just very good.” No worries about traffic (see rant above). Sunshine. Forests and farmfields. Neat, clean and orderly towns and villages. And perhaps most appreciated, pool table flat. A perfect first day of actual biking. Topped off by a snug little wild camp in a mystical grove where Estonian chieftains held meetings 800+ years ago. I arrived with little knowledge and no expectations. A few days on I am liking Estonia very much.

Day 6: Friday (8/15/2025). The curse of civilization – information overload. The weather forecast warned us that we would face bloody awful headwinds all day long. (We did). Our map app told us we’d be gritting our teeth into said headwind for exactly fifty miles (it was) to the city of Parnu. We rode through the same lovely landscape as the day before, but had to work very hard to remain positive (we did). Incessant headwinds have the capacity to suck the joy out of life.

In a triumph of technology, however, we also knew that a strong weather system would reach Parnu around 8pm. Long before it arrived, Sharon had worked her online magic and found a cheap, very adequate hostel where we could weather the storm. We found some good eats, local beer, and were back in our room, showered, snug, and smug before the storm raged.

Day 7: Saturday (8/16/2025). It sounds strange to say this in the middle of August, but this morning felt like a crisp, fall day. Not surprising I guess, for a city at the same line of latitude as the Canadian village of Inukjuak on Hudson Bay (look it up).

We were too tired to enjoy Parnu when we arrived, and then the storms arrived. By the light of a new day, it revealed itself to be a beautiful city. An especially fetching portion of it nestled between the Parnu river and the Baltic sea. We took breakfast in one of the many parks, and were surrounded by all kinds of busy-ness. We had stumbled onto a celebration of Estonian Literature Day. The woman who appeared to be in charge bustled around handing out hugs, smiles, laughter – and directions. The energy was infectious. We briefly pondered staying for the festivities, but realized that most would be lost on non-Estonian speakers. Breakfast complete, we headed down along the Baltic coast.

With another storm on the way, the wind was strong and fickle. It couldn’t decide if it meant to be friend or foe. A slightly shorter day through the same pleasant countryside brought us to camp a short walk from the beach. It is slightly embarrassing to be writing this wearing pants, three layers on top, my down jacket and rain shell – while locals are out frolicing in the surf. I guess anyone who can endure a harsh northern winter (as evidenced by the massive woodpiles surrounding every home) relishes whatever passes for a balmy summer day.

Tomorrow morning we will say “huvasti” and and “suur aitah” to Estonia (“good bye” and “thank you very much“). It been nice getting to know you. We wish you all the best! The end of this portion of our trip is also a good time to end this week’s blog. Hope you enjoyed it. Until next week – STC!

Europe 2025 – Back Behind Bars #1

On August 11, 2025August 21, 2025 By KBGearDaveIn Biking Stuff, On the Road3 Comments

Durango to Helsinki

August 7, 2025: Our last bike trip across the pond is already two years in the rear view mirror. It has been almost a year since our epic “friends” kayak trip in Alaska and my little solo bike ride into Canada. For people with itchy feet (or wheels), a year is a very long time off our bikes. That’s not to say we haven’t enjoyed or made good use of the hiatus. In the last year, the family gathered in Florida to say good-bye to Sharon’s father. We welcomed Ethan (the last AZ holdout) to Durango and the warm embrace of the rest of his family in Colorado. We made our annual pilgrimage(s) to the fabled land of the Hodag so two small humans could spend time with two great grandmas and other extended family, as well as all that the Northwoods has to offer.

We’ve enjoyed getting to know our new home of Durango. Spending “everyday” time with family has been precious. We’ve developed a wonderful circle of new friends. And let’s face it, SW Colorado has plenty to offer salve for “itchy feet.”

But salve or no, wanderlust has once again spurred us to action. Flights have been booked. Possible routes have been explored. Gear and clothing have been pondered, weighed, and debated. Choices have been made, and ultimately, clothing and gear has been packed or set aside. Bikes are all snug in their boxy beds. All that awaits is our departure two days hence. In the meantime, we will seize the last moments with family and friends before our extended absence.

So, “Where to this time?” you may ask. Once again we have heard the siren call of the far north, to Helsinki, Finland. Now you may ask, “Why Helsinki?” Finland consistently ranks as one of the happiest countries in the world, so there’s that. It shares the same line of latitude as Anchorage, Alaska, so for the heat averse among us (me) it offers a temperate climate. Ultimately, we were drawn to a part of Europe we had not seen before, and the Fare Queen found reasonably priced tickets to Helsinki – so why not? Our plan (OK – general idea) is to get ourselves unlagged and sorted, leave Finland and bike through Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Poland, Slovakia, Austria, Germany, and eventually Switzerland to meet our friends Chris and Patricia. We spent six weeks cycling with them through Turkey and very much look forward to reconnecting.

As always, the exact details of the trip remain “fluid'”. Our mental and physical status, weather, terrain, interactions with locals, unexpected opportunities, and often, pure chance, dictate our day to day itinerary (aka – the “no plan” plan). As always, we are very much looking forward to our immersion in the sights, sounds, smells, food, people, and landscape of this new (to us) part of the world. We look forward to taking you along with us on the journey.

August 9, 2025…Departure Day.

“Parting is such sweet sorrow that I shall say goodnight till it be morrow.”

Since moving to Durango just over a year ago we have become part of the everyday life of Aaron, Vanessa and our grandkids. And now with Ethan living with us, one might think that such familiarity would make a three month absence easier to contemplate. Not so. In addition to all the packing and countless details that needed attending to, we crammed us much family time as we could into the week prior to departure.

What a time we live in. I am amazed at how easily we can find ourselves across the globe. No walking behind oxen and wagons across prairies for months. No fraught voyages on sketchy boats across wild oceans. Our “voyage” was fast, comfortable, and efficient. The only hardship we endured was enduring an overwhelmed mother entirely unable to reign in her spawn or comfort a screaming baby (all night long). Even though we were deprived of sleep, I wouldn’t wish her experience on anyone.

And so it was that we arrived bleary-eyed and droopy-tailed, somewhat less than ready to face the challenges of the day. Still, we got the bikes and gear sorted and headed into the unknown.

Kiri’s “lovey” Peter has traveled with us around the world. I think you can sense his excitement for this trip as well.

*Helsinki, the land of a thousand bike paths. Twelve miles from the airport to downtown all on bike paths. Well done!*

Our excitement at being in a new country and back on our bikes was dampened by lack of sleep. After a pleasant ride from the airport into the downtown area, neither of us could work up much enthusiasm for the usual touristy things. If I’m honest, we were having a hard time working up enthusiasm to hold a simple thought in our heads. Twenty-eight to thirty sleepless hours had taken their toll. We walked around the harbor area for a bit, but finally gave in and returned to our hotel – and blessed sleep!

And so begins another chapter of seizing the carp! By next week, hopefully, we’ll be well rested and will have plenty of adventures to share. Until then – STC!! (Seize the Carp!)

PS: If you’d like to follow our trip, you can sign up to receive an email whenever I update the blog. If you’d like less of Dave’s “blah, blah, blah” Sharon is also posting on an app called Polarsteps. It shows our location on a map, plus has pictures and a brief description of what we’re doing. Download the app and search for “Sharon Neubauer Moore” and request to follow her. As Kiri likes to say, “Easy, peasy, lemon squeezey”.

AK 2024 – #6

On September 1, 2024February 10, 2025 By KBGearDaveIn Biking Stuff, On the Road3 Comments

August 25-31

Sunday, August 25 (Day 23): Last night, when the rain arrived, there was no hesitation, no gentle pitter patter. It came like a SWAT team serving a warrant. It pummeled my tent, hour after hour. I put it off as long as possible, but with a ferry to catch, I finally had to face reality. I was going to have to pack in a downpour. I shoved the sodden mess of a tent into stuff sacks, then into a garbage bag to deal with later. A final farewell to Daniel and Hannah, and I was on my way to Skagway.

When we arrived in Skagway, our ferry was dwarfed by four massive floating cities docked in port. While repelled by the mass of humanity pouring forth from said vessels, I was impressed by the smooth logistics that whisked passengers away to be parted from their money in shops and excursions. Downtown Skagway resembled a make-believe Disney village. Historic buildings dating to the Klondike Gold Rush housed jewelry stores, faux historic saloons, and stores offering all manner of Alaska themed shlock. One gentleman volunteered that he was on his 19th cruise! This was his fourth time in Skagway. His biggest excitement? He saw the “Welcome to Skagway” sign he’d missed on his other cruises. His biggest disappointment was that dress standards on this Norwegian cruise were “a bit too casual” for his liking. Hmmm.

After a brief respite, the weather turned foul again. I picked up dinner from the market and had an overpriced beer at the Skagway Brewery. The historic building looked cool, but completely lacked character inside. I gave up and did laundry and dried gear in my room.

Monday, August 26 (Day 24): People seeking a fortune in the Klondike gold rush had two main routes. The White Pass from Skagway and the Chilkoot Pass starting from nearby Dyea. One prospector said, “There ain’t no choice. One’s Hell. The other’s damnation!” Fearing famine and chaos, Canadian officials required each prospector to have a year’s supply of food and equipment – typically 2,000 lbs – in order to enter the coutry. In retrospect, it was a wise policy. It also meant that each prospector had the daunting task of moving those supplies thirty-three miles over Chilkoot Pass, or forty-five miles over the White Pass. Most would carry a 50 lb. load one mile, leave it, then walk back a mile to get the next load. Do the math. That’s seventy-nine miles to move a ton of gear one mile. That ends up being lots of miles just to begin the much longer journey to the gold fields.

Anyone successfully entering Canada would then then have to build a boat or raft to float through a series of lakes and, eventually, the Yukon River for hundreds of miles. And here’s the cruel little secret. By the time they arrived in the spring of 1898, two years after the initial discovery, every square inch of land had been staked, claimed, and mined. Having endured unimaginable misery to get to that point, most simply sold their gear and bought a ticket home. Of the 100,000 stampeders, fourteen were verified to have made (and kept) a fortune. Hard to fathom.

The rain let up today, so I was able to take in some of the remarkable history of the area. Away from the tourist shops, Skagway is actually a well-kept and appealing community. Ten miles away, nothing remains of the one-time boom town of Dyea. Somehow, that was actually a more powerful memorial to the folly that was the Klondike gold rush.

Tuesday, August 27 (Day 25): It is underfunded, and according to locals, notoriously unreliable. Still, the Alaska ferry system is the only option for most people to get most places along the coast. It was still dark when I rolled aboard for my ride to Juneau. I moved to the empty aft lounge and planned to spend a few quiet hours reading or watching the scenery slide past. It was not to be! The lounge filled, and eventually, Barnaby and Linny took the seats next to me.

As usual, conversation ensued! Happily, it continued unabated until we arrived at Juneau. Until retirement, Linney was involved with the effort to find solutions to the affordable housing crisis facing many communities. It is a complicated issue with no easy solutions, but plenty of creativity being brought to bear. Barnaby currently works with emergency responses to large-scale problems (e.g. landslides like the one in Ketchikan). Although, according to Linny, Barnaby has apparently done every job at least once. He seems to know people in every community along the coast. His stories were entertaining and usually delivered with a mischievous smile and twinkle in his eye.

Five hours passed too soon. With hugs and promises to stay in touch, I donned my raingear yet again and rolled off the ferry. I was immediately greeted by my Warmshower host, Tom. He and his wife Eva had agreed to let me stay with them for two nights. We made quick work of five miles through the rain to their home on Auke Bay. Given the constant rain, their hospitality was very welcome. As a small token of appreciation, I contributed a hot apple pie to our dinner.

Wednesday, August 28 (Day 26): Wednesday is group hike day. I accepted their invite to tag along, although I couldn’t help notice the low clouds puking rain. They didnt seem to mind! I kept thinking they would come to their senses and call off this nonsense. Nope! The fact that locals wear high-end Arcteryx rain gear AND carry umbrellas pretty much tells you all you need to know about the people here and hiking in SE Alaska.

Tom is a regularly volunteer on trail building efforts in these parts. He was well versed in the historical aspects of our chosen hike along the Treadwill Ditch. The “ditch” was originally built to bring water fourteen miles to power a gold ore stamping mill in Douglas.

Back at the house, we traded stories and I learned more about my hosts. Eva’s business degree was put to use to help with economic development in Juneau, and now with a bookstore that supports the local library. Before retirement, Tom was a dentist with the Public Health service. He is particularly proud of helping to develop a program to train and equip locals in native villages to provide basic dental care. That program continues to bear fruit. While Tom is the cyclist, they both have a long history of outdoor pursuits. Notably, they’ve rafted a number of extremely remote Arctic rivers. No small feat.

Thursday, August 29 ( Day 27): I very much wanted to camp one last time and spend the day exploring the area around Mendenhall Glacier. Unfortunately, the clouds here seem to possess an inexhaustable supply of water. I reached out to another Warmshower couple, John and Steph. They graciously opened their home to this soggy biker.

With dry lodging for the night ensured, I felt better about splashing my way along the soggy Mendenhall Glacier overlook trail. It’s always a bit shocking to see how far all these glaciers have receded in the past century. While still impressive, the current version is a shadow of its former self.

Late afternoon, I squelched into John and Steph’s kitchen and received an enthusiastic, warm welcome. Clothes were hung to dry. I showered and changed into my least offensive clothes.

How to tell someone you’re from Juneau without telling them you’re from Juneau!

As with their friends Tom and Eva, I found myself in the company of kindred spirits. John and Steph have made their way on bicycles to remote corners of the globe. Africa. From their driveway to Inuvik (Google it – its impressive). Norway. Finland. Estonia. Europe in general. Just to name a few. Their life experiences could fill volumes. Carpentry. Woodworking. Bassist in an Orchestra (John). Geologist. Bush teacher. Musher. (Steph). Etc.

Friday, August 30 (Day 28): Last night, it was just John and I chatting. Steph had another engagement. This morning, John went for coffee with the guys. I stayed back to chat with Steph. Two hours later, when John returned, we hadn’t moved from the kitchen table. I certainly had not satisfied my curiosity about this interesting couple.

But alas, the time had come to say our good-byes…but only with the promise to meet later for dinner. I spent the afternoon getting ready for my flight. Dinner was lovely, as expected. I will see John one final time on Sunday. He has volunteered to ferry me and my bulky gear to the airport.

Saturday, August 31 ( Day 29): Another wet day was perfect for more organizing and packing. Also, for reading, writing, surfing, and other indoorsy pastimes. By afternoon, though, I’d been inside long enough. I joined the sodden, shuffling cruising masses as they made their way past countless jewelry stores, T-shirt, and trinket shops.

I.JUST.DON’T.GET IT! I understand coming to a town like Juneau and taking some excursion. There are opportunities to hike, or bike, or ride the tram up the mountain, or visit the Mendenhall Glacier in some manner or even go up to ride the zip line at the ski hill. But I am mystified that many (most?) simply walk around an area filled with what appears to be exactly the same shops found in every other port of call. And then to get back on a ship with thousands of other passengers? Hard pass! I’ll take my wet tent, headwinds, bears wandering through camp, and the kindness of random strangers any day.

This was to be my last night in Juneau. Tomorrow night, I begin the trip home. This then also marks the end of another memorable journey. I’ll have some final thoughts to share next week. But for now, I’m going to enjoy a last $9 beer and some world-renowned fish tacos. STC!

AK 2024 – #5

On August 25, 2024February 10, 2025 By KBGearDaveIn Biking Stuff, On the Road3 Comments

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.

Luxury. Included in the price of a camp site

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.

View 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!

AK 2024 – #4

On August 18, 2024February 10, 2025 By KBGearDaveIn Biking Stuff, On the Road4 Comments

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.

Thomas ready to head south, all sleek and stylish.

If I’m short of space, I’m definitely not strapping a cuke.

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.

Deadman Lake – ominous name for such a pretty spot.

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.

70+ year olds from Vermont. They also bicycle tour and stopped to encourage the “kid”

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!

AK 2024 – #3

On August 11, 2024February 10, 2025 By KBGearDaveIn Biking Stuff, On the Road14 Comments

August 3 – 10, 2024

Saturday, August 3 (Day 1): I love to read. I love a good story, especially when the ending is a surprise ( I’m looking at you Wayward Pines). It’s not often though, that you get surprised at the beginning of a story. A year ago, when Sharon and I decided to kayak in Alaska, Sharon had another idea. “What if,” she said, “we take our bikes and ride back through Canada?” Why not indeed? Yet another plan was hatched, and details worked out.

And so, according to plan, we arrived in Anchorage. We had a lovely time visiting friends. We had a lovely bike ride to Seward. We enjoyed hiking. We met new friends. We spent a marvelous week kayaking with friends.

Here is where the story may surprise you. Back in Anchorage, we spent much of Saturday visiting with Jane and Andrew. I prepped my gear for the start of our proposed ride from Anchorage to Calgary. Then we packed Sharon’s bike for her flight back to our new, barely lived-in home in Durango.

Surprised? Canada was her idea. A few weeks before our departure, Sharon made the difficult and courageous decision to forego the ride to Calgary. There were many factors that went into that decision. One of which was my willingness to continue the ride as planned. In the end, we were in perfect agreement that she had made the correct one.

The decision to either not go, or ride alone was not easily made. Finally, I decided I wanted both the mental as well as the physical challenges of attempting a long solo ride in remote regions. I will miss my companion. It will be a very different trip without her. We shall see how it goes.

The first day was something of a “soft start.” We said our good-byes. I rode my loaded bike, alone, for the first time since college and a few days in Bulgaria. I set the modest goal of a campground only ten miles away on the outskirts of Anchorage. Day 1? Success!

Sunday, August 4 ( Day 2): I was on familiar ground today. Fort Richardson. Eagle River. Eklutna Lake. The Knik arm and Knik River. Pioneer Peak. Palmer. These were all places I remembered from a lifetime ago when I lived here. Seeing it all in the saddle was new, however. I managed to piece together bike trails and back roads to mostly avoid the main highway. This introduced me to areas I’d never seen.

It also reminded me of an aspect of AK both Sharon and I intensely dislike. Let’s call it the “garbage dump people” phenomenon. So many homes I rode by literally looked like garbage dumps! Broken coolers and appliances. Wrecked cars. Various other household items seem to have made it as far as they could be thrown from the front door. Clearly, people were living there. But why? Also, in ditches and pull-offs, abandoned cars! More than we’ve seen anywhere in the world. I don’t understand it. I rode feeling saddened and depressed about a place I truly love.

Today was also a day of adjustment. I am discovering which items went home with Sharon, but should have stayed with me. Do they need to be replaced, or done without? My finely honed packing method has been thrown into some disarray with the addition of gear normally carried by my lovely bride. We talk about food all the time while riding. Mostly what to eat, but also when, and from where. Now, those decisions are mine to make. Too many decisions, it turns out. As expected, this solo riding will take getting used to.

By day’s end, I found myself at an agreeable campground on the edge of Palmer. Even after only two days, a hot shower (with no timer) is one of life’s great luxuries. I believe I took a $20 shower. So, in essence, my camp site for the night was free. I’ll take that deal almost any day.

Monday, August 5 ( Day 3): In the Monty Python sketch, “The Four Yorkshiremen,” each character tries to outdo the others describing how tough his childhood was. Finally, one says, “We had to wake up half an hour before we went to bed. Go down to the mill. Pay to work 29 hours a day. And every day when we got home, our father would kill us and dance on our graves!” To that I say, “Luxury!”

I biked up roads so steep I had to dodge mountains goats falling off. My bike and gear weighed so much I needed locomotive wheels so they wouldn’t buckle. It was so hot people were looking into time shares in hell because of the cooler weather there. And you try telling that to young people today, they won’t believe you!”

Perhaps I exaggerate slightly…but today wrecked me. Too much heat. Too many big hills. Too little water. I went into the only three businesses that were open. They saw my water bottles, and before I even asked, they said, ” We don’t have any water!” Really? Well fine! I’ll just filter my own. Could you believe I didn’t pass a single stream, pond, puddle until a few miles before I stopped? I couldn’t. Speaking of stopping…I couldn’t. The only realistic clearings or side roads were clearly posted, “Stop here and you’ll be shot!” Or something to that effect.

When I finally did find an idyllic little spot, I threw up the tent (OK, I meticulously set up a perfect taut pitch because that’s what I do – even when I’m exhausted) wolfed down some food, and collapsed into bed.

My last thoughts before becoming comatose were, “I’ve chosen…poorly! This ride was a really bad idea!”

Tuesday, August 6 (Day 4): What a difference a day makes. Turns out I had finished the day near the top of a pass. So after a kind lady came out of a not-yet-open roadhouse to fill my water bottles (see, that’s how it’s done!) I was off to a good start. Then, I hardly pedaled and ticked off six miles. Then, for some reason, the weight of the trip seemed to lift. Nothing special happened. No doubt, adequate food, water, and slightly better terrain helped. But something clicked, and I was smiling while I rode. I was just enjoying the moment. And so the day went. People smiled and waved. People pulled over when passing. The scenery was spectacular as always. And after a slightly less taxing thirty-three miles, I found a perfect spot with views of the Wrangell-St. Elias mountains. I may have napped in the late afternoon warmth (not heat!!). I read, then enjoyed a hearty and totally unhealthy dinner. My last thought before becoming comatose was, “This ride is a really good idea!”

Wednesday, August 7 (Day 5): The butter is hard. Definitely need gloves. Maybe I should put on another top? No, there’s a climb coming up shortly. I’ll warm up. Look at those mountains in the sunlight! Wow! Look at those clouds…what an interesting variety. I should stop and take a picture! Nah, a picture really won’t capture it. But still, look at those clouds. “Changes in latitude, changes in attitude…” Great, now I’ve got that song stuck in my brain!

That small sample of what goes on inside my brain should answer the question, “Doesn’t it get boring riding all day, especially riding alone?” Riding offers constant sensory input. Sights, obviously, but also smells. “Is that actually a dead beaver on the road? Whew!” And of course, sounds. All the senses were fully engaged on the fantastic ride into Glenallen. As the road twisted and turned, I was treated to ever changing views of the Wrangell-St. Elias peaks.

Sixty-five miles after setting out, I rolled into Glenallen. Three years ago, Sharon and I stopped here on our way down to Valdez. It was not memorable save for the tasty chicken tenders in the IGA. After munching a pound of the little beauties I can report, they are still tasty! Hey, don’t judge! I’m biking here!

At camp I met Andrea and Tom. Three years ago they shipped their motorcycles from Germany to Argentina. Since then, they have made their (circuitous) way here to Glenallen. Unfortunately, just outside this campground, his transmission died. Not many great options that don’t involve throwing huge wads of cash at the problem. I wish them well.

Having reached my first major objective, I pondered taking a rest day. My body felt good even after a long day. Glenallen didn’t offer much in the way of diversions, so I made plans to continue on in the morning.

Thursday, August 8 ( Day 6): From here on to Tok and beyond, it’s been forty plus years since I passed this way. It may as well be the first time since I have almost no memory of that trip. In defense of my recall ability, much of today’s ride wasn’t all that memorable. It was pleasant enough, especially for the lack of traffic. But there were long stretches of road lined by walls of spruce. Occasionally, I’d crest a hill, the earth would fall away, and I’d be treated to a vast panoramic view. Then the forest would swallow me again.

Don’t judge. This was really a great grocery store!

Mid afternoon I arrived at my pre-selected wild camping spot – an abandoned gravel quarry on the banks of the Copper River. I set up and ate just in time for the rain to start. Perfect excuse to spend the rest of the day reading.

Friday, August 9 (Day 7): “Rain, rain, go away…” Yeah, that didn’t work. My all time, least favorite thing in the world while camping is??? You guessed it – packing a wet tent. It wasn’t just wet, it was saturated. I was a tiny island of dry in what had become an inland sea. It kept raining while I packed. It kept raining while I rode to Chistochina. It rained while I hung the tent in a picnic pavilion, hoping to dry it before I would have to set up again in the all-day rain forecast. After a few hours and no visible drying progress, I thought, sod this! I called the roadhouse I’d passed a mile back. A very pleasant Judy did indeed have a reasonably priced cabin for me. So much for Dave the hard-core adventurer. As I luxuriated in the steamy hot shower, and ried my things in the snug cabin, that thought didn’t bother me in the least.

Saturday, August 10 (Day 8): Breakfast with Judy and Rick was a treat. While I casually packed away calories, they shared stories of their life. Rick had been a teacher and then administrator of bush schools in the Kotzebue region. Judy had spent thirteen years as a missionary nurse in Chad. When the civil war broke out, she was on the last U.S. plane to leave the region. They’d run the road house for the past seventeen years. We traded stories of travel, interesting people, and just life. I could have continued all day, but alas, the road was calling.

It was 9:25am when I started my GPS watch. A late start, but I had no plans, so everything was going according to plan. Before I could leave, though, I also had to have a quick chat with Thomas and Henri. These two young Germans had cycled in late last night. Thomas is planning to reach Calgary. Henry has his sights set on New York. I may have raised an eye brow, but they had only taken four days to get here from Anchorage. Oh. And even though their gear was still scattered, they confidently stated their intent to reach Tok – ninety miles away. Oh. Any thoughts of riding together vanished. Auf wiedersehen! And off I went.

Many years hence, as I sit in my rocker with my lap blanket and great grandchildren gathered at my feet, I shall recount stories of this day. “It was a crisp fall day.” I will say. “It was only August 10th, but Mother Nature doesn’t pay attention to our calendar!” I will go on to talk about the blue skies and the vastness visible from the mountainsides. I will talk of leapfrogging with Thomas and Henry, the hares to my tortoise. With a scowl, I will speak of the evil radial tire wire that flattened my tire. And then, I will get misty eyed and speak in hushed tones of the glorious, the blessed tailwind that traveled with me all day. The giant, invisible hand that gently helped me up the long climbs. That force that allowed to use never before used gears as I gobbled up the miles. And then, my children, let me tell you story of how great grandpa ate a pizza big enough to feed all of you and all of your friends.

Local lore is that when the last flowers fall from the firewood, the first snow is in two weeks. Ruh-roh!

A week after setting out, I find myself farther than I imagined and immensely satisfied in the crossroads cmmunity of Tok. And just there, past the trees and hills to the south, is Canada! I keep thinking I’ll take a rest day. But after some early growing pains, I’ve so enjoyed the riding – I just keep riding. And so kids, until next week somewhere in the Yukon…Seize the Carp!

AK 2024 – #2

On August 8, 2024February 10, 2025 By KBGearDaveIn Biking Stuff, Water Stuff3 Comments

July 21 – August 2

Sunday – July 21 (Day 6): Sunshine? Check! Downhill? Check! Tailwind? Check! Moose sighting? Check! Scenic wonders? Check! I guess it was a good day cycling. Another relaxed morning meant we rolled into Seward mid-day. Little did we realize this is where Alaska starts. We thought we’d been in AK all along.

Although I’d lived in AK for six years, somehow I’d never made it to this pleasant little corner of the state. As the landscape unfolded and the ocean came into view, my first thought was, “this looks like pictures I’ve seen of the Lofoten Islands of Norway.” As if all this beauty wasn’t enough, the threatening clouds eventually parted. We happily spent the afternoon on a beach at road’s end watching life run, walk, swim, and paddle by.

The real treat though, awaited us back in town. Linda and her sister Kathy greeted us from the front yard, as we rolled up to her house. Linda is a highly regarded Warmshower host in Seward, with good reason. In addition to her incredible generosity, Linda has taken her bicycle to corners of the world we haven’t considered even in our wildest dreams. All in the name of “staying away from touristy areas!” All of that while doing the Alaska hustle of working multiple jobs. Wow! While not interested in the cycling lifestyle, we enjoyed listening to Kathy’s stories as well. We immediately felt welcome, well fed, and completely at home. What a great place to land for a few days while we explore the Seward area.

Monday, July 22 ( Day 7):

I’ve pointed this out before, but our “glamorous” life on the road is often rather mundane. We went shopping for breakfast and bought makings for dinner. We gave our vile clothes much needed attention at the laundromat. When the expected rain arrived, we went back to Linda’s to grab lunch, chat with Kathy, and spend an “indoorsy” day relaxing.

Tuesday, July 23 (Day 8): Imagine an eighteen mile wide sheet of ice, several thousand feet thick stretching all the way from Durango to Silverton. That is the Harding Icefield (18 miles by 48 miles). If you include the forty glaciers spilling off this sheet of the ice, the icefield covers 1100 square miles. All of which is to say this thing is HUGE. Fortunately, anyone interested in getting up close and personal with this behemoth can do with just a short drive out of town and a vigorous hike. Please and thank you!

As expected, the hike did not disappoint. As expected, it was a quad killer. As expected, we were rewarded with expansive views of the glacier, and a tiny portion of the vast icefield. Later, less than a minute of hitching netted us a ride back to town where medicinal hoppy beverages soothed our aching muscles.

Wednesday, July 24 (Day 9): For the past 94 years, highly motivated individuals have raced 1.5 miles and 3,000′ up Mount Marathon, then hurtled themselves almost straight down scree slopes, chutes and gullies. As mere mortals, we chose to use our second good weather day to ascend the (only slightly less steep) “hikers” trail up this storied peak. Our quads did not take kindly to the abuse. Most of the climb was through a foggy soup. Near the top, however, we emerged above a sea of clouds. Insert your favorite superlative here…

Clearly, the Alaska scenery is stunning. It has been well worth the effort to reach the places we’ve seen. It is especially satisfying to do so by human powered “slow” travel. The real allure of travel, however, is people. E.g. John and his daughter Kat who gave us a ride into town yesterday and shared a little slice of their lives. Linda and Kathy, who shared their home, food and stories, laughter and insights. We are forever grateful for all these moments.

Thursday, July 25 (Day 10): Today was a transition day. We moved from Linda’s house to a local hotel. We switched from bike touring mode to thinking about the upcoming kayak trip. Rob and Megan, friends from Durango, arrived in the morning. Part of the day was spent chatting, sightseeing, and organizing gear. Later, with Dan added to the mix, we gathered at a local brew pub for amazing grub!

Friday, July 26 (Day 11): The soggy day squished some plans, but we all (separately and as a group) found plenty to keep us occupied. Highlights included a film in the library about the 1964 earthquake and its devastating impact on Seward. There was another fine meal of local delights and delightful conversation. Finally, we met at the Kayak Adventures shop for pre-trip briefing. Our impossibly young looking guide, Cole, seems personable and enthusiastic. Excitement level is high. By all appearances, this is going to be a memorable experience.

Saturday, July 27 ( Day 12): I have dreamed about a mothership kayak trip for well over a decade. Since booking this trip a year ago, it has been a regular topic of discussion. Under those circumstances, reality often has a hard time living up to expectations. We needn’t have worried.

We left town under blue bird skies and the watchful eyes of the towering peaks lining Resurrection Bay.

Along the way we witnessed “bubble feeding” by humpback whales. A pod of whales exhale (blow bubbles) while circling a school of herring. When the fish concentrate, the whales ascend vertically and feed. The description doesn’t do justice. It was magical to witness. We were in awe at the wonder of it. Apparently, this is one of only two places in the world where whales exhibit this learned behavior.

“Bubble net” feeding

And so it went. Wildlife sightings and dramatic landscapes were constant companions. Occasionally, Cole would offer a tasty bit of interp to help us make sense of, or even further appreciate, what we were seeing. Captain Mike would chime in with local history or salty wisdom as color commentator. Mid-afternoon, we arrived at our first anchorage. After mastering the loading/unloading sequence for the kayaks, we set off for a tour of the next bay.

Back in the warm embrace of our mothership, we enjoyed good food and conversation. I asked someone how they would describe this day to family and friends back home. Their response? “You can’t!” Agreed!

Sunday, July 28 (Day 13): After such an incredible first day, what could we possibly do as an encore? We seemed destined for disappointment. Au contraire! A few miles from our anchorage, the Ailik Glacier awaited. We paddled across the face of the mile wide tidewater glacier, occasionally forcing our way through masses of bergie bits. The thunder of both small and house size slabs of ice crashing into the ocean was almost constant. Harbor seals and sea otters kept watchful eyes on the odd creatures passing through their territory. Even from our vantage point, it was impossible to get our heads around the scale of the glacier and the titanic forces on display before us. We were so mesmerized, the near constant rain barely registered

Later, when the tide turned in our favor, we headed back out into the rain, refueled and refreshed. We paddled south and rode the evening tide into Peterson Lagoon. Low clouds filled the narrow valley as we made our way a mile or so to the back of the lagoon. Cole’s description was apt. Ailik Glacier was a rock song. Peterson was “smooth jazz.” Well said.

The tail end of the flood tide delayed our return to the Starr. When we did arrive, we were in high spirits after another amazing day and great food. The “spirits” continued to flow well into the early hours.

Monday, July 29 (Day 14): Small wonder everyone was reluctant to leave bed this morning. Eventually, Captain Mike served up breakfast and we set forth from our home in Coleman Bay. Today was a different experience. We took our time poking into every nook and cranny along the coast. The intertidal zone is a veritable cornucopia of sea life. Sea stars. Mussels. Barnacles. Kelp. Sea otters. Sea birds of every size and shape. It never gets old.

Eventually, we arrived at a small lagoon that served as home to a multitude of jellyfish. I now can distinguish between Moon, Cross, Egg Yolk, and Lion’s Mane jellyfish. Dinner plate size all the way down to tiny quarter sized specimens. The most dramatic features, though, were the towering waterfalls spilling down sheer cliffs. Alaska’s motto could very well be “Go big or go home!”

Tuesday, July 30 (Day 15): After three days in Ailik Bay, our fearsome leader decreed we would pull anchor and set course for Northwestern Fiord. No, that is not a misspelling. It appears that way on charts and supposedly is an acceptable variant.

The cruise into Northwestern was uneventful. Just more stunning scenery. Miraculously good weather. A single humpback whales entertaining us with full breaches. An interesting feature of this fiord is the terminal moraine many, many miles distant from Northwestern Glacier. At some point in the not too distant past, the glacier extended all the way to this reef. Again, it is almost impossible to ponder the scale. Yawn. Just another day in paradise.

After a long motor, we were all ready to stretch our legs … as it were. Captain Mike dropped us off to paddle while he went ahead to anchor near Erratic Island. When we arrived later, we realized why, after 50 years of piloting vessels, this is his favorite spot. We were not, however, his favorite people when we woke the captain rushing on deck to watch the late arrival of an orca pod. Watch orcas swimming around the boat or seriously piss off the captain? I feel we “chose wisely!”

Wednesday, July 31 (Day 16): It’s not often you get to kayak in a remote wilderness. Much less common is the opportunity to paddle beneath three mammoth glaciers in one day. Even more rare to watch as a ten story building size piece crashes into the ocean before your eyes. After today, we all feel incredibly fortunate to say we’ve done those things once! We also felt fortunate to have spent a second evening in this special place.

Thursday, August 1 (Day 17): Alas! Our time was coming to an end! Instead of motoring farther and farther from port, this morning, we made our first move toward home. Bittersweet! Fortunately, we had a memorable day. First, we were dropped off to explore several coves as we made our way seven miles south to reunite with the Starr. In Cataract Cove, we paddled onto the set of Jurassic Park or Land of the Lost. In one corner, waterfalls plunged down cliffs in spectacular fashion. While we admired that, a curious seal kept popping up to spy on us, often just feet away from our boats. We also witnessed baby sea otters being tended to by their parents. They take cute to a whole new level.

Our last paddle involved an open sea crossing to Granite Island. We all agreed Granite Island would make a perfect location for a super villain’s secret lair. The wind chop and swells kept everyone focused on the task at hand. Back in the lee of the island, we took our time finding our home for the evening. Finally, we entered the forty foot wide entrance to Taz Lagoon, took a victory lap around the tiny Cove, and hauled the boats back on deck for the last time. Sigh.

Our constant paddling companion has been a remarkable young man. Cole grew up in Denver. His K-8 education in an adventure/outdoor experience based school seemed tailor-made to produce the curious, competent, uber enthusiastic guide we had with us. His love for nature (and especially moss) was infectious. His knowledge of the flora and fauna – first rate. It was a joy getting to know and spend time with him.

Andrew probably said it best about Captain Mike. If you plugged into an AI generator “salty Alaskan sea captain” and 3D printed out the result, you’d get Captain Mike. His boat was his domain, and you forgot that at your peril – even if you were the paying guest. At the same time, he was always ready with an entertaining story, a joke, or snappy come back. He has a fierce love for Alaska and these waters.

Friday, August 2 (Day 18): We were treated to one more day of beautiful weather as we made our way back to Seward. As we’d done all week, we spent all seven hours watching with awe as the sea and land fell astern.

And just like that, the trip went from the present to live in the land of memories. We took our sea legs ashore, and after heartfelt good-byes, went our separate ways. For Sharon, Dan, and I, that meant catching the evening train to Anchorage.

Thank you Sharon, Rob, Megan, Andrew, and Dan, for making this truly a trip of a lifetime!

AK 2024 – #1

On July 21, 2024February 10, 2025 By KBGearDaveIn Biking Stuff, On the Road6 Comments

July 14-20, 2024

Even for enthusiastic travelers, the past twelve months have been a whirlwind year of travel. The most significant trip, however, was a one-way trip to Durango, Colorado. After twenty-three years in Flagstaff, we pulled stakes and moved to Durango. The ‘sweet sorrow’ of parting was eased somewhat by the warm embrace of family, friends, and our wonderful new neighbors in Durango.

With the ink on the documents barely dry, and some boxes still unpacked, we did the obvious and set off on a three week trip to Wisconsin with the grandkids. Immediately upon our return, we completed packing for another adventure – this time to the Great White North.

This trip has its origins in random web surfing more than a decade ago. I came across a company offering a “Mothership” experience. Each day is spent kayaking coastal wilderness. Each evening is spent aboard a small boat offering good food and a dry place to sleep. It sounded amazing, but alas, it was a champagne experience beyond our beer budget means. A decade later, however, Sharon found a similar but somewhat more affordable Mothership experience in Seward, AK. One thing led to another, and a plan was hatched. Sharon and I are to be joined by four good friends at the end of July for a Mothership journey into Kenai Fjords National Park. It promises to be an amazing experience.

As is often the case though, Sharon came up with a slight…wrinkle. Why not combine this kayak trip with a bike trip? Since we’re going to be in AK, why not pedal from Anchorage to Seward. And then, why not ride partway home through Canada to … let’s say … Calgary! Why not indeed! It should be noted, that wrinkle was conceived of prior to the stress of our decision to move, selling and buying homes, packing and unpacking, adjusting to life in a new community (and spending three weeks with the grand kids in Wisconsin). That note will become relevant later. Still, we made all the necessary preparations for both an epic kayak trip and bike ride.

And that, dear reader, is how we found ourselves on yet another plane on our way to another captivating corner of the globe. And, as always, we hope you will make the journey with us.

Tuesday, July 16, 2024: The most notable event of this day was not our flight from Durango to Anchorage. That honor goes to my lovely bride who celebrated the completion of another successful trip around the sun!! Nothing says “Happy Birthday” quite like 15 hours in airports and on airplanes!

It was well past our bedtime when we arrived in the land of the midnight sun. Unfortunately, our bikes didn’t make the trip with us. American Airlines decided they would prefer a later flight. Nothing for it but to hail a cab and wait for (hopefully) a cheerful reunion on the morrow.

Wednesday, July 17, 2024:

Our first full day was full of happy reunions, generous strangers, and typical, challenging AK weather. First, we reunited with our bikes, and in short order, were ready to ride. Outside a local bike shop, we met a young man who had just completed a ride from Skagway to Anchorage. He graciously gifted us his bear spray and a fuel cannister – neither of which are welcome on airplanes. Then it was lunch and catch up with old friends, former classmates, and co-workers. Thanks Kay, John, Jeff, Deb, Colleen and Jane for a lovely afternoon.

Eventually, it came time to point the Konas south along the Seward Highway. Of course the rare sunny weather gave way to more typical rain. Some might say we chose…poorly! The steady rain and spray from passing vehicles was annoying, but partially offset by a vigorous tailwind. Two miles shy of our planned camp for the night, we were lured in by the promise of $8 cheeseburgers at the Brown Bear Bar.

Fortified by hot food, cold beer, and congenial surroundings, we decided to push on through the rain another fourteen miles to Girdwood. Even though it meant arriving well past our bedtime, we reckoned we’d have more options there to wait out tomorrow’s forecasted day of rain.

Winners and losers: Winner- Neoprene paddling gloves turned out to be a brilliant choice for cycling in 50 degree rain. Why haven’t we thought of this before? Winner – My new Arcteryx Beta rain jacket performed flawlessly. It is a significant improvement over my 15 year old dead bird (aka Arcteryx) jacket. Loser – Our new Nemo tent. Granted, these were tough conditions, but rain and condensation combined to drop moisture on our faces far exceeded anything we experienced in our now-retired ten year old REI tent. Curse you REI for changing the design and leading us to this choice.

Thursday, July 18, 2024: Yesterday’s decision to ride far into the evening through persistent rain seems especially brilliant today. As advertised, it rained all day. Not to worry! We happily made use of the spacious pavilion in the campground. We made good use of the Girdwood library. We quaffed beer and made new friends at the Girdwood Brewery. Other than limiting our view of the surrounding mountains, the rain bothered us not all.

Friday, July 19, 2024: Nothing like a few days of rain to help you appreciate the glorious rays of sunshine that greeted us this morning. No surprise, but it turns out we have similar tastes in cycling. We prefer sunshine over rain, tailwinds vs infernal headwinds, flat or downhill vs uphill. We’re easily pleased. On this particular day, we were granted the trifecta of cycling goodness. Flat. Blue skies. Tailwind. Until we started climbing! Still, as Meatloaf famously sang, “Two outa three ain’t bad!” And so it went all day. Thank you AK!

The day ended on both a literal and figurative high point. Thanks to all our climbing, the ride from Summit Lake to Seward will be mostly downhill. Score one for the team. Next, we rode into a full campground and scored a walk-in tent site. Yay team!

Saturday, July 20, 2024: Long days breed lazy mornings. If the sun can loaf around all day and not bother to wander over to the horizon until 11:00pm, there is very little incentive to start our day at the proverbial butt crack of dark. So we had a lie in. We lounged about camp, had a bite and leisurely got our kit sorted When we could find no other reason not to, we bid “adieu” to Summit Lake.

Our leisurely start carried on through the day. We did a small hike. We stopped in the almost comatosely laid-back community of Moose Pass for snacks. We bought fudge. And unbelievably, we scored the very last camp site in the lovely Primrose Campground nestled on the shore of Kenai Lake.

And so ends the first days of our trip. It was, and is, everything we hoped for and love about travel. We’re looking forward to exploring Seward and the surrounding area. But more about that next week. Until then, Seize the Carp!

At Home, away from Home?

On October 22, 2023November 1, 2023 By KBGearDaveIn On the Road5 Comments

November 2023

Since returning from our most recent cycle trip, a few folks have asked, “Does it feel good to be home?” Good question with a seemingly obvious and expected answer. Since retiring four plus years ago we’ve spent more time away from Flagstaff than at home. Twelve months were on two wheels in far-off lands and remote regions with only the barest essentials. Over a month has been spent backpacking long distance trails. We’ve lived in the Tardis – our teardrop trailer – for almost half a year. Significant time has been devoted to family visits across the country. Our choice of destinations means we often confront unfamiliar food, language, customs, and challenging living conditions. Our methods of travel mean we are often on intimate terms with Mother Nature’s various weather moods. Given all that, it makes sense that we would share the opinion of Oz’s Dorothy, that “There’s no place like home!” Well….??? “Yes” or “no” is too simplistic. The reality seems more nuanced. We do enjoy being home. We find great pleasure connecting with friends – whether it is an evening at Mother Road, a chance encounter somewhere in town, playing on local trails, or Sunday morning at church. We enjoy the simple pleasure of finding familiar foods in familiar locations at our regular grocery stores. We enjoy getting reacquainted with our favorite offerings from local restaurants. But here’s the thing – we also very much enjoy spending time with people we meet – and have met – on our travels. We love the process of becoming familiar with new and different foods.

So, what to do? How do you balance enjoying the comforts of home with the joys of living on the road. Someone has said, “Never make your home in a place. Make a home for yourself inside your own head. You’ll find what you need to furnish it – memory, family, friends you can trust, love of learning, and other such things. That way it will go with you wherever you journey.” “Never” is perhaps too strong. I think we’ve found it possible to make home both “in a place” AND “wherever you journey.” Especially in recent years as we’ve vigorously indulged our passion for traveling. We usually travel with our tent or the teardrop. In a sense, we take “home” with us. Having a comfortable place to lay our heads goes a long way towards making us feel at home. We have also learned the joy of living simply, taking only what we need and can easily carry. It is possible to feel at home without a building filled with stuff. Wherever and whenever possible, we make it a priority to connect with family and friends. We embrace every opportunity to make new acquaintances. Thus, we are blessed to have people who embrace us and enrich our lives. In addition to all that, and perhaps most important, we have each other. I realize how incredibly blessed I am to have a friend and companion with whom to share this nomadic lifestyle. She doesn’t just tolerate our traveling lifestyle. The ideas behind our more adventurous treks often come from Sharon’s fertile imagination. All of these ingredients combine to make the tasty banquet that is our life. So, back to the question that sparked all this introspection. Does it feel good to be home? I think the real answer is that most times we feel “at home” wherever we are.

In his famous poem, Robert Frost voiced the impossible desire of many who wander…to travel two roads and yet be “one traveler.” Alas, ’tis not possible. There are many paths in life to choose, and choices have to be made. I’ve often said, “Saying “yes” to one path means saying to “no” to many others.” Madness lies down the path of constantly wishing for whatever one does not have in the moment. “I wish I were home” while on the road and “I wish we were traveling” while at home). Seize the Day! Seize the Carp! Embrace the moment! Don’t wish your life away waiting for some magical moment or place where happiness will be served on a platter. Find reasons to enjoy wherever you find yourself at this moment.

We have found great joy during these past months/years on the road, in Europe and at home in the States. No doubt we will find great joy spending the next several months at home in Flagstaff, even as we make plans to possibly relocate “home” to a new city. We also already have a plethora of plans in place to make the road our “home” and will continue to embrace that lifestyle as long as we are physically able. If you’ve made it this far in the post – thanks for sharing this mental journey with me. Hopefully, somewhere or some time our paths will cross. STC!

Life Behind Bars – #17

On August 9, 2023August 9, 2023 By KBGearDaveIn Misc. Stuff9 Comments

Trip Summary – 2023

In early July, we arrived back in Flagstaff. Five days later we transitioned to life on the road in our Teardrop. Since our return we’ve had the chance to relive our latest cycle tour with family and friends. Each retelling distills the trip to its most memorable moments. It is now almost time to send those moments off to live out their days in the Sunset Home for Old Trip Memories. Before saying goodbye though, we decided to take them out for one more walk down Memory Lane. Here are a few thoughts from the end of our trip in London, as well as our time in Portugal, Spain, France and England.

As a general rule, we avoid large cities. Given time and proximity, we decided to set aside our prejudices and see what London had to offer. Quite a lot, it turned out. Historic sites. Easy and efficient public transport. Great Indian food. Theater (We saw Wicked – it was amazing). Masses of tourists. We’re still not sold on the whole megatropolis thing, but it was a good way to bring our travels to a close.

Since we’ve been back, people often ask, “What was your favorite country?” That’s really an impossible question. Over the past year and a half we have feasted on amazing natural beauty. We have been immersed in layers of history thousands of years deep. We’ve had our views of the world challenged, and been intrigued by cultural differences. We have been recipients of heartwarming kindness and humbling generosity. We now count as friends former strangers in places previously unknown. Someone once told us that her favorite food was, “Whatever is on my fork!” That sounds about right. We have found much to love in every country we have visited. Our favorite country is wherever we happen to be traveling.

I may not be willing to commit to a favorite country, I will say that most of our favorite memories have to do with people we’ve met. There were chance encounters with old friends from school. We reconnected with travelers we’d met on previous trips. We made new friends and crossed paths with wanderers and locals this time around. All those interactions wove a rich tapestry that captured the essence of our trip. So thank you! Thank you for the gift of time in a busy world. Thank you for offering a place to sleep, or a meal. Thank you for your curiosity and encouraging words. Thank you for sharing your stories, your insights, and your suggestions. Thank You All!

Friends – old and new!

Throughout our travels, random thoughts will occur. These thoughts and observations often didn’t fit into the weekly recaps, so here they are – no particular order.

Spain was the only country we have visited where my Spanish was often better than the locals’ English. That’s not saying much. Related thought: Lack of a common language is no excuse not to travel. We always managed to get by – and it usually involved lots of laughter.
Locals in every country warned us about their “crazy” and “dangerous” drivers. We found just the opposite to be true. People were invariably polite and courteous in the extreme. We often had people wait patiently behind us for several minutes until it was safe to pass. And when they did pass, it was often with a smile and a wave. Honestly, American drivers suffered by comparison.
Last year in Turkey, Gursoy said, “you are not tourists – you are adventurers!” As we met and traded stories with other cyclists traveling the globe, we felt welcomed into a fellowship of world travelers. Tourists were largely absent from many of the countries we visited. This year we were tourists! We joined throngs of tourists visiting touristic sites. It was not unpleasant, just different! Upon reflection, we prefer being adventurers.
We loved traveling in countries with easy, inexpensive and readily available public transport. It is easy to imagine life without a car. How novel.
Portugal, Spain, France and England are filled with “quaint” villages – often hundreds of years old. It is easy to imagine life there resembling some Hollywood movie – carefree, filled with quirky, colorful characters. The reality is that these are modern communities. People there deal with all the stresses (and joys) of modern life.

Great Travel Quote: “Travel isn’t always pretty. It isn’t always comfortable. Sometimes it hurts, it even breaks your heart. But that’s okay. The journey changes you; it should change you. It leaves marks on your memory, on your consciousness, on your heart, and on your body. You take something with you. Hopefully, you leave something good behind.” – Anthony Bourdain

Summary: In the last three years we have spent one full year traveling by bicycle. We have covered over 10,000 miles. We’ve crossed the length and breadth of Alaska, and several western states. We’ve visited seventeen countries. You might think that after all that time and all those miles, we might yearn for home and a more stationary life. Just the opposite! The desire to travel is almost a physical ache. Someone has said, “I haven’t been everywhere – but it’s on my list!” The more we see, the more we want to see…in our own country and around the world. Someone else said, “Don’t let your memories be bigger than your dreams.” This trip is now collection of memories, offering a warm glow whenever we recall them. We are very much looking forward to our next adventure(s). We hope you have been inspired to not just read about our adventures, but to make some of your own. Until next time – Seize the Carp!

Seizing the Carp!

Author: KBGearDave

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