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!

Life Behind Bars #16

On July 3, 2023July 3, 2023 By KBGearDaveIn Biking Stuff, On the Road2 Comments

June 26 – June 30, 2023

Sunday, June 25 (Day 96). We went into Bakewell with the goal of running along the Monsal Trail. It was going to be an out and back on a ‘rails to trails’ segment. As we passed a car park enroute to the trailhead, we noticed a couple pinning numbers on their shirts. We learned that a local run was set to go off in twenty minutes. “You can still register if you fancy a go!” We did fancy! £5 and £2.50 secured our entry into the Bakewell Pudding Fell Run and Fun Run. When I completed my entry form, one volunteer noted my USA address. “Ooh,” he said, “Now we’re an international event!”

Moments later, 213 locals and one American set off to climb the ridge above Bakewell. It was 6 1/2 miles of rough (at times muddy) single-track through the woods, ridge running with expansive views, and even a stream crossing. Sharon’s run included many of the same features on a slightly smaller scale.

We loved it! It was extremely well organized – and extremely nonchalant. People were handing over their pound notes to enter minutes before the start of the race. Easy as you please. No T-Shirts or medals to finishers, just some tasty Bakewell tarts from the race sponsor. My only complaint? They had trophies for the top male and female runners. No recognition for being the top American finisher!

It was great fun and gave us an excuse to enjoy a Cornish pasty and the fruit of a local microbrew. The exercise and food coma also gave us an excuse to laze around the rest of the day.

Monday, June 26 (Day 97). During our stay in the Peak District, we very much enjoyed time away from the bikes. It was fun – and painful – using different muscle groups. Now however it was time to head back south in the direction of London. The town of Derby lay in the right direction at an agreeable distance. For no other reason, we landed there at day’s end. It was nice enough with loads of pleasant bits. Empty store fronts and “To Let” signs littered the main streets. Many of the folks out and about also had a ‘worn around the edges’ look. England is not all quaint “move set” villages. It is filled with real people, living in real cities, facing real challenges – just like people everywhere.

The River Derwent followed us all the way from the Peaks District to Derby.

Tuesday, June 27 (Day 98). We set out to cover forty some miles today. We hadn’t gone half that, and we were looking to tap out. Cycling was lovely as ever. But, it was also a cold, moist day, with the wind coming from the wrong direction. Given our distance from London, and given that cycling into a city of twelve million is cycling suicide, we’ve planned to do the last bit by train. Knowing that we will at some point take that option, we see no need to flog ourselves. Here’s the funny thing – just when we had decided to cut short our day…England pulled in the welcome mat. There were no campgrounds nearby. OK! We looked at hotels, guiest houses, B&B’s – NO VACANCY! We tried and exhausted countless options. By the time we found lodging, we had covered our forty miles, and ended up in Leicester.

We did have fun along the way.

Wednesday, June 28 (Day 99). Leaving Leicester was a lengthy affair. We wound through back alleys, side roads, crossed parking lots and along sidewalks to avoid almost certain death on the car-centric city streets. In the city center, we ran into James and Sashi. In short order, they knew about our trip, and James was showing me holiday photos from a family visit in Antigua. Sashi was sharing with Sharon that he moved from Lisbon to Leicester from a desire for a larger Indian community. Cool guys and a fun chat.

“Fool me once…” right? Since the Brits apparently can’t abide our spontaneous style of travel, we buckled and made plans. We left Leicester with reservations in place for a Bed and Breakfast near Long Buckby. I will grudgingly concede that it was nice to know where we’d be at day’s end.

From the center of town we were able to pick up a bike trail, then a network of quiet lanes and small villages. After a bit of a down day yesterday, this was just fun.

Proof that you may have to grow old – you don’t have to grow up!

Stanford Hall was built in 1690 for Sir Roger Cave. In the 1890’s, an early aviation pioneer named Percy Pilcher built gliders there. He also built a powered flying machine that many historians believe would have been capable of flight. Unfortunately Percy died in an accident beforehe could try it. Curious little bit of history. Another interesting feature of Stanford Hall, is that the River Avon flows through the property. The village of Stanford on Avon is 30-ish miles from the somewhat more well known Stratford upon Avon.

Outside the grocery store in Long Buckby we met the Librarian! She had toured years ago, so we started the conversation with cycling. We quickly moved to life in this lovely, bustling community. Budget constraints had the library slated for closure. Folks were not ready to let that happen. So currently, forty some volunteers run the library. City funds allow them to buy a few books and hire one half-time staff member. Sad, but also inspiring! Way to go Long Buckby. We would have loved to spend more time here, but our home for the evening was an old farmhouse a few miles outside of town. Peaceful and perfect!

Thursday, June 29 (Day 100). Today we found a campground just outside of Banbury. Why Banbury you ask? We found a train from Banbury to Heathrow Airport that allows bicycles and has room for ours. Thus, this will be our last day of touring! Bittersweet to be sure. We thoroughly enjoy life “behind bars“ and will miss our nomadic life. We are also very eager for time with family, friends and our next adventure. With all that in mind – today was the perfect “last” day. One last bit of dodgy route suggestions, beautiful countryside and, as always, amazing, friendly people. I think today I’ll let the pictures do most of the talking.

Fellow cyclists on what they describe as a four day pub crawl bike tour. We found our people – on the last day!

Rolling into the campground I ran into Cliff. He’s the third generation looking after these grounds. He said the campground was closed for the weekend for a large private party on Saturday night. Since we were just looking for one night, we were welcome to stay! Not only that, we were invited down to for a beer later. Turns out the private party was a 75th birthday bash for James, Cliff’s father-in-law. We actually met four generations and were made to feel part of the family.

Friday, June 30 (Day 101). After a short ride back into Banbury, we caught our train. A short time later, we were dropped off near the airport hotel. We quickly found bike boxes, settled in to relax, and planned our tourist campaign in London. One notable event today. Three miles from the hotel, my rear rack broke! I’d say almost perfect timing for a gear failure like that. Zip ties brought us home. I’ll take that as a sign that our trip is rightly over.

I’ll give some London details and a final wrap-up next week. But for now, this seems like a good place to pause. So until next week from the States, cheers from London!

Life Behind Bars #15

On June 26, 2023June 26, 2023 By KBGearDaveIn Biking Stuff, On the Road2 Comments

June 18 – 24, 2023

Sunday, June 18 (Day 89). Imagine driving from Flagstaff to New York City. That’s basically the distance we’ve covered in the last 88 days. People say, “You must be in really good shape!” Thank you! Most days we do feel in good shape…for “biking.” We’ve lost some weight. We may have toned up a bit. But – I can’t say the whole body has gotten on board with the program. Seems like any movement other than cycling causes a great deal of grunting and groaning. So the forecast of heavy rain today was more than enough excuse to spend an extra day in Oxford doing as close to nothing as possible.

Monday, June 19 (Day 90). Sarah and Sharon first met in grade school in Neenah, Wisconsin. After high school their paths diverged, with Sarah landing in England. After a career and lifetime in London, she and Julian have settled an hour north of London. We set off from Oxford, and fifty beautiful, tailwind assisted miles later, we arrived at 35 Church Walk Lane.

If we were in a movie about American cyclists on an adventure in England, this is how Hollywood would have portrayed it. Sarah and Julian live in an idyllic little village, in a modern home with 300 year old bones. Their view is a broad, neatly trimmed park. Across the way a properly old church rests amid centuries old gravestones.

Sharon and Sarah had fun playing catch up, recalling people and events from their childhood together. Finally it was time for a pint at the village pub. With Sarah as our point of contact, we quickly fell in with the local cast of characters. I felt like we were in the English version of “Cheers.” Again, Hollywood could not have scripted a more perfect evening. It was magic!

Tuesday, June 20 (Day 91). Yesterday was catch-up day with the ladies taking a leisurely stroll down memory lane. Today, we got to know the Sarah and Julian of today. Sarah pursued a career in telecommunications. As such, it was fascinating to learn of her role dealing with the crisis of 9/11. At the time, almost all lines used for airline communication were routed through the World Trade Towers. When the buildings came down, crucial links were disrupted. As you can imagine it was rather important to be able to talk to airlines and airplanes! Sarah spent the day helping coordinate the effort to re-establish those critical links. For his part, Julian has had careers in both military and industry. I was blown away by mention of a true “007” moment during his military career. With classic British understatement, he passed it off as “interesting.”

We spent the day touring the area. We were shown beautiful and historic sites, and treated to excellent pub grub. Along the way, we had long conversations about life, politics, issues facing both our countries, work, travel, and on and on. We ended the day with another trip for pints at the Elwes Arms pub. Thank you both for being the perfect hosts.

Wednesday, June 21 (Day 92). The clock continues to tick. We have more to see and fewer days at our disposal. With the aid of local knowledge, we chose to spend the remainder of our time in the Peaks District. After our farewells, we rode to Kettering and caught a train north to Matlock. It is a beautiful town on the edge of the national park, but a bit frantic. We were happy to find a quiet spot along the River Derwent to enjoy a pint. With that important piece of work done, we retreated to our camp site in a closed campground. (We had permission and paid for the privilege.) From there, we planned our next few days. With the numbers of tourists and a weekend approaching, we realized we couldn’t do our usual seat of the pants non-plan.

Thursday, June 22 (Day 93). For the next several days we planned to get off our bikes and onto the local hills. We found both a campground and several trails near the village of Bakewell. Upon arrival we realized that this village deserved a thorough inspection. Along a side street at a seeming dead end, Hazel assured us that we could, in fact, cut through a nearby court yard. That brief exchange led to a longer conversation. Eventually, we ended up in Hazel and John’s living room, sipping prosecco and trading stories. Like many Brits we’ve met, they are seasoned travelers. John has visited, lived, and/or worked in fifty different countries. Hazel has a similar resume and (among other places) lived a year in India and thirteen years in Paris. In the space of three hours, we talked and laughed like old friends. These are absolutely the best moments. Thank you, Hazel and John!

We arrived back at camp to watch the spectacle that is Friday night in a UK campground. A steady stream of vehicles rolled in. The caravans and vans were normal size, unlike the bloated Mad Max behemoths we see in the States. Car campers were a different story. From out of each vehicle came giant, multi-room tents, tables, lounge chairs, portable grills, wind screens. It was a sight to behold.

Friday, June 23 (Day 94) We took our first stab at English walking in the village of Ashford-in-the-Water. We were pleased to learn that Ashford was not actually in the water, but so named because it was near the River Wye. Our walk took us over a ridge past grazing cows and sheep. After a few miles we dropped into the dale (a narrow river valley) and followed it back to Ashford. Thus, to quote the Bard, we walked “over hill, over dale.”

Saturday, June 24 (Day 95). We met James and Jane last summer in Central Turkey. A chance meeting in “Love Valley” led to an evening gathering of world travelers in Goreme. As so often seems to happen with fellow travelers, we formed fast friendships. Since then, we’ve kept in touch. So when we pitched up a short drive from their home in Sheffield, we naturally made plans to meet. They graciously picked us up with a full day plan in place to hike, picnic, pub, and chat.

We drove to the unique village of Eyam. During the plague in 1660-1665, death visited. In an incredible display of selflessness, the villagers voluntarily isolated in order to prevent the spread of the disease. Neighboring villages would leave food at a well in the countryside. Coins for payment would be left in a jug of vinegar to disinfect. Tragically, one-third of the residents would die, but the spread was checked.

James and Jane led us over hill and over dale, all the while offering up a running commentary. A Roman road here. Rock climbing there. The reservoir where the bouncing dam buster bomb was put to the test. And all around, expansive views of the countryside.

Our day with the Halls was a perfect end to this penultimate week here in England. We parted ways, grateful to have had this opportunity to connect, eager to follow their next adventure, and hopeful that our paths will cross again. We hope you’ve enjoyed this portion of the trip as much as we have. Until next week – Seize the Carp!

Life Behind Bars #14

On June 18, 2023June 27, 2023 By KBGearDaveIn Biking Stuff, On the Road4 Comments

June 11 – 17, 2023

Sunday, June 11 (Day 82). After the Eiffel tower, Mont-Saint-Michel is the most visited site in France. As a child I recall being amazed by pictures of this place in National Geographic. Today, we made the short ride from Avranches to visit for ourselves. From any distance, from any angle, it is visually stunning.

The story goes that in the early 900’s the Bishop of Avranche had a vision. He dreamed of a church on what was then just a rocky outcrop. Clearly, people got on board with the idea. Over centuries they constructed the magnificent structures that are Mont-Saint-Michel today. As with so much of antiquity, it is hard to fathom what they accomplished without modern tools.

After getting situated at the campground, we rode out to get a closer look. We quickly realized that while it is truly stunning from the outside, inside every square inch was given over to tourism and tourists. I understand it. I realize we were not “stuck in traffic” – we were traffic. As evidenced by the pictures, we joined the throngs of selfie taking tourists. Still, we quickly tired of shuffling along with the masses, shoulder to shoulder in the narrow streets. We didn’t stay long.

Back in the campground, we started chatting with our neighbor. Mark was a week into a solo, month long journey around France. Given his current trip, it was no surprise to find that from their base near London, he and his family had seen quite a bit of the world. As usual, we enjoyed sharing stories about travel and just – life. We peppered him with questions about his homeland in anticipation of our visit. He graciously offered loads of useful info.

Mark from Richmond. Home of Ted Lasso’s AFC Richmond. Real town – fictitious team.

Monday, June 12 (Day 83). On this flat stretch of coast, the lines between ocean and land were a bit blurred. Sky and ocean were the same gray. With the tide out, water was barely visible across vast mudflats. It was hard to say where “ocean” began and land ended. Even the headwinds seemed equal parts air and water.

We made quick work of the thirty miles to Saint-Malo. The weather cleared slightly and revealed this to be a perfect place to spend our last day in France. We got settled at the city campground and went for a walk. We found World War fortifications, ancient castles, and beautiful harbors. Our exploration built a powerful thirst, and – what are the chances? – we found someone selling beer and cider. From our comfy perch at the Cafe Cancalais, we watch life pass by on the street and out in the harbor.

Back in camp as the skyline disappeared in fog, Mark appeared out of the mist. He came bearing gifts of local fermented cider. What better excuse to stay up later than planned? We learned about house swapping, honeymoon hiking in Bolivia, and the story behind getting a £200/night penthouse suite in Japan for £20. Cheers Mark. Safe travels. Hope to see you in Flagstaff!

Tuesday, June 13 (Day 84). Saint Malo was founded in the 1st century by Celtic tribesmen. Then the Romans took their turn. Much later, it became the famous (infamous?) home to a fleet of corsairs – the French King’s private pirates. These pirates preyed on commercial shipping and brought tremendous wealth into Saint Malo. During WWII, allies believed the Nazis had stockpiled war material inside the city walls. Thus, eighty percent of the city was destroyed by aerial and naval bombardment. After the war, it was decided to meticulously rebuild the city as it had been – in all its medieval glory. That is the city visitors see today…well almost. In addition to the expensive handbags, jewelry, and art similar to what may have been available 400 years ago, today you can also find all manner of cheesy tourist tat.

After a turn around the old city, we settled in at a prime stretch of beach. Until it was time to board the ferry, we people watched. We reminisced about our trip so far. We dared to think ahead to a time off the bikes. Finally it was time to leave. We found our place on board and watched as France faded from view. Au revoir France – it has been a pleasure getting to know you.

Wednesday, June 14 (Day 85). We arrived in Portsmouth fully rested, ready to embrance another new country.

Welcome to England

Since arriving, we’ve been almost overwhelmed by friendly, helpful souls. The gentleman at the terminal entrance offered detailed route instructions. Minutes later a young lady, clearly on her way somewhere else, turned her bike around to make sure we knew where we were going. She arrived seconds before another gentleman asked if we needed guidance. Having won the right to assist by her earlier arrival, she went completely out of her way to lead us along slightly confusing bikepaths. Once we were in the clear, she wished us well and pedaled off. Another woman started chatting at a crosswalk. A lifetime ago she had cycle toured and was keen to share, and also learn about our trip. And so it went all day. Wonderful chats with random people whenever we stopped. We did not realize how much we’ve missed these interactions and conversations over the past three months. Except for a few notable exceptions, the language barrier has kept us rather isolated.

On the streets of Winchester. Brilliant musician with an interesting story.

Mark had prepared us for camping in the UK. Still, it was a shock. Wild camping, while always possible, is not allowed. Campgrounds are fewer, farther between, and much more expensive than on the Continent. So while the campground outside of Winchester was very nice, 33£ for a patch of grass was a bit of a shock.

Thursday, June 15 (Day 86). Today we experienced the England TV shows and movies had prepared us to believe we would find.

The challenge of two way traffic on single width country lanes

English icons: Thatch roof cottage and *(still working)* pay phone

Hills and headwinds made the ride today a challenge, especially to legs grown accustomed to the flat coast of northern France. We loved it. This country seems purpose built for cyclists. Beautiful countryside, streams, and charming villages were a joy to ride through. By far the highlight came later. Rupert and Rosie struck up a conversation while we were cooking dinner. Rupert had, among other things, cycle toured through the Himalayas and India. How is that even possible? He downplayed his epic trips with typical English understatement. Conversation wandered far and wide and too quickly time slipped away. As night settled they had a long walk home, and we needed to be off to bed.

Friday, June 16 (Day 87).

The earth had donned her mantle of brightest green; and shed her richest perfumes abroad. It was the prime and vigour of the year; all things were glad and flourishing.
Charles Dickens – Oliver Twist

Mr. Dickens perfectly described this portion of southern England. Not surprising, given that he was born in Portsmouth where our journey began.

Our arrival here coincided with a heat wave. Because of the heat we’d both run out of water earlier. Passing through town, I happened upon Julian and inquired if he could spare some water for a thirsty cyclist. As he led me into his yard, he asked with a grin, “Fancy some gin?” Actually, no – but thanks for asking. Instead, he filled my bottle with ice cold water from his fridge. Perfection! He insisted I drink up, then refilled the bottle. Then, in addition to the gift of a nice chat, he sent me on my way with two bottles of beer. Thank you Julian!

Julian’s Razor Back Amber Ale paired perfectly with my Mark and Spenser’s spaghetti

Saturday, June 17 (Day 88). You may have heard of Oxford University? It’s this little school that’s been around officially since 1214 (although teaching began in 1096). Yes, you read that right. Over 800 years ago, scholars began gathering in this little English town to impart knowledge. Richard spent two hours sharing stories from the fascinating history surrounding this university. Events and characters include bishops being burned alive, Bloody Mary, Henry the 8th, King James of biblical fame, Lawrence of Arabia, C.S. Lewis, J.R.R Tolkien, English Prime Ministers, Einstein, and even Hogwarts. Over a pint at a 16th century pub, we decided to extend our stay. That allowed us to spend the afternoon wandering, gawking, and soaking in the ambience.

Along the Thames

16th century pub. Also well known from the Inspector Morse tv series

The actual blackboard with Einstein’s explanation of a portion of his theory of relativity as a guest lecturer at Oxford. If my math is correct, what he actually proved is that 1+1 = 3.

One of the uni’s original purpose built structures. More famously, several scenes from Harry Potter were filmed here.

Thus ends another week “behind bars” filled with lovely people and places. We now face the daunting task of decided how best to fill our last two weeks. Check in next Sunday to see what we chose. Until then, STC!

Life Behind Bars #13

On June 11, 2023June 11, 2023 By KBGearDaveIn Biking Stuff, On the Road8 Comments

June 4 – 10, 2023

Sunday, June 4 (Day 75). Scars of World Wars run deep in northern France. After all, France hosted “the war to end all wars” just twenty some years before. Then Germany came calling again to unleash a fresh batch of horrors on the world. The Caen Memorial Museum provides an excellent overview of events leading up to and through the war. It offers both military insights as well as the atrocities visited upon civilians. Consider just one example of what a world under Hitler looked like. The man quoted felt totally justified in mass murder of innocent people because he’d been told “they” they were “the enemy.” Caution: this letter is graphic and disturbing.

The cost in lives and suffering to stop Hitler and his allies was immense. That letter also perfectly illustrates why that price had to be paid. As an aside, it is an abomination to hear almost identical verbage and ideas being espoused by politicians and their followers today. Clearly, the visit to the museum was a moving experience.

It was not entirely a somber day. Sharon enjoyed her exploration of Caen. She got to see the finish of the Liberte’ Half Marathon. We were reminded (again) of item #1 on our “Things we have to remember in France” list? Oh, that’s right! Everything is closed on Sunday. With no groceries available, we were fortunate to find an open restaurant. Of all things, an American themed restaurant, with gen-you-wine country music. Swell!

Monday, June 5 (Day 76). June 6th, 1944 Normany was the site of the largest amphibious assault in history. That was seventy-nine years ago. Ancient history to many, but in this place that history is alive. In every town there are plaques and memorials. We stopped to pay respects to a few of the fallen in one of the many war cemeteries.

Buildings present in old black and white photos are still standing today. All day, military aircraft made low passes along the beach. Eighty-year old military vehicles are buzzing about. As I write this, a WWII Willy’s Jeep just drove by, complete with men in period combat gear. There is something special about walking in the footsteps of history.

We took in this slice of history in a loop north from Caen to the English Channel, west past Sword, Juno and Gold Beaches. Finally we made a run south, with the wind, to end the day in Bayeaux.

Tuesday, June 6 (Day 77). History has judged Operation Overlord a success. On that fateful day seventy-nine years ago, it seems almost nothing went to plan. Landing craft were blown off course, or just blown up. Paratroopers were dropped miles from their objective. Enemy objectives did not have the decency to be where the Allies expected them to be. Perhaps that’s what makes the whole operation so impressive. In spite of the obstacles, on that day and in the days to follow, people just found a way to do what needed to be done.

Given what history teaches about plans, we set out this morning without one. We were simply determined to make the most of whatever came our way. Our first stop was at Port-en-Bessin. By chance we found our way to a memorial dedicated to British Commandos. A plaque on site spoke of their heroism and gave some of the details. I had no idea the enormity of what these men accomplished until I watched this video. (If you’d like, you can watch it here: https://youtu.be/6oX4zVpWhXA )

The day offered up other notable events. Twelve thousand white crosses mark the fallen at the American Cemetery above Omaha Beach. Even with all we’ve seen and read recently, this was somehow especially moving. Our visit happened to coincide with a ceremony featuring several WWII veterans. With a voice much younger than his 98 years, one veteran recounted his experiences. He held his closest friend in the military in his arms and watched him die on this very beach. He left them there to carry out his mission. There were not many dry eyes in the crowd.

Omaha Beach from the site of a German gun emplacement

We left humbled and grateful that so many people were willing to make the ultimate sacrifice to stop evil.

We ended the day in Isigny-sur-Mer. The campground was home to many of the re-enactors we’d seen driving around the Normandy beaches. It was also where we met kindred spirit Sarah from Wrexham (yes, that Wrexham!). It didn’t take long to realize this was not her first rodeo. Before a full time job and career caught up to her, she had traveled the world. Now she squeezes in a bike trip and travel during breaks from work. Great fun sharing stories and laughing. Happy travels Sarah. Hopefully our paths will cross again.

Wednesday, June 7 (Day 78). Nefarious dealings delayed our departure. As we often do, Sharon had left her phone in the bathroom to charge. When she went to collect it – gone! Someone had nicked it. We check the office, asked around a bit. Nothing. Not to be deterred, Sharon ID’d a group of likely phone thieves. She asked them directly if anyone had “found” a phone in the bathroom. Innocent shrugs all around. It seems likely that she rattled them, or a parent stepped up. Shortly after, one of the young men “found” Sharon’s “lost” phone. Don’t mess with Sharon. I’m just glad she’s my friend.

In spite of the late start, we made good progress with a tailwind for the first time in I can’t remember. We passed through Carenton. Somewhat notable for events involving Easy Company portrayed in “Band of Brothers.” Along the way we met a charming couple from Scotland. She 76. He 84. It is amazing all the places you can get to in 30+ years of bike touring. And they are still going strong. They are my new heros!

Beyond that, just another fun day taking in random sights on our way to a spot along the coast for the night.

It is only fitting that the Taylor family scratched their name into the wall of a church that has stood for centuries, survived the Hundred Year’s War, World Wars I & II. Well done buttwipes!! Suggestion for the future – ***Stay Home!***

Over the hills and through the woods thats how grandmother goes!

Thursday, June 8 (Day 79). We began by weaving through clusters of homes scattered along country lanes along the coast. By mid-day though it became apparent that Sharon’s scratchy throat was the start of something worse. We let Google show us the most direct route to Avranches.We’ll spend several nights here to allow both Sharon’s cold and impending bad weather to pass.

Sick or not, we still have to eat. We made our first stop at a proper creperie. The savory crepe introduced me to flavors I’ve never met. It was love at first bite! The dessert crepe had us both trying to lick our plate without looking obvious.

Friday, June 9 (Day 80). Our first impression of Avranches was…meh! The multiple lanes and heavy auto traffic was jarring. It was more like an American city than almost any place we’d been in France. A sightseeing run around town changed my opinion. I started my run at the General George Patton memorial. A few blocks away I stopped to gawk at still another centuries old cathedral (it doesn’t get old). In 1170, King Henry II encouraged (if not outright ordered) the murder of Thomas Becket. He was subsequently excommunicated. Here in Avranches, there is a paving stone where Henry II knelt in 1172 to receive absolution for his involvement (after he agreed to pay the appropriate amount. That’s how forgiveness works, right?). Near that paving stone, high school kids were playing cricket in a park. I stepped out of the way of a passing Tesla after admiring 1,000 year old Mont-st-Michel in the distance. Then ran past a modern football pitch and several clay courts belonging to a local tennis club. Ancient, old and modern all live side by side here in a pleasant mixture.

Saturday, June 10 (Day 81).

Not that we need an excuse to have a truly lazy day, but sickness and bad weather gave us an easy out. I went for a run and did an errand before the rain. Sharon made a trip to the local grocery. We read and listened to books. We did some laundry. We may work up the energy to take a nap. The women’s French Open Finals are today. All in all, a much appreciated rest day. Last year, we covered 3,000 miles in five and a half months. We just passed 2,000 miles in about half the time. True rest days have been rare this time around.

Last night we booked our ferry crossing from St. Malo to Portsmouth. That means after today, we have only three more days in France. As always, the end of our time in a country is bittersweet. We will always cherish our time here. At the same time, it is always exciting to move on to something new. So, that’s all the news fit to print. Until next time – STC!

Seizing the Carp!

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