I’ve said it before…coming up with the idea is the easy part. The devil is in the details. The list of details was seemingly endless. There were home repairs and over due maintenance items to be done, as well as vehicle repairs and maintenance items to cross off the list. Furniture and toys no longer deemed “necessary” went up for sale and went out the door. Other items found their way to the local thrift shop. We got all our financial ducks in a row. There was gear to be sorted, new gear to be purchased, old gear to be repaired (if possible), other gear to be created to prepare (hopefully) for all anticipated weather conditions. The most enjoyable item was the process of saying our goodbyes to a long list of friends in town. But on Saturday, April 17 – the day finally arrived. We had an empty house, a full vehicle, and an open road before us.
It was surprisingly easy to drive away from “home.” While we very much like our house in Flagstaff, “home” has always been more about family than towns or buildings. So we made sure to spend time with Ethan in Tempe before leaving AZ. We’ll spend time in Durango hanging with Aaron, Vanessa, Oliver and Kiri, the in Loveland with Kevin and Katie. After that, home will be the Tardis (its bigger on the inside) our Teardrop trailer, and home will be two bicycles and our trusty tent. As the song by Kimya Dawson says, “And if home is really where the heart is, Then we’re the smartest kids I know, Because wherever we are in this great big world, We’ll never be more than a few hours from home”.
So, the adventure begins…or more accurately I suppose…the adventures continue. We are super excited for Jack and Abby and their adventure in parenting as they take over residence in “the Treehouse”. And as we all finally start to crawl out from our collective Covid rocks and get back to living life again, we are excited to hear about your adventures. We may be off the grid for periods of time, but we’re not going to the far side of the moon. We most definitely are not looking to downsize or purge our circle of friends. We very much want stay connected.
That’s all for now. Many of you have expressed your eagerness to follow us on our journey. I will try to make this interesting and worth your time. If you haven’t already done so, scroll down to the bottom of the page and enter your email. You will get a notificiation whenever I update the blog. Until next time…happy trails!
“Let’s get someone to stay in our house and travel for a year or a year and a half“, we said. “Let’s take the bikes and go to Alaska“, we said. “In fact, let’s start biking in Prudhoe Bay and head south.It will be fun” we said. Turns out, coming up with the idea was the easy part. I’m not complaining mind you. I’m thrilled that Sharon keeps coming up with these awesome, brilliant ideas. I’m more than happy to tag along. However, preparing to be away from home for 12-18 months, mostly traveling by bicycle turns out to be a big deal. So far we’ve spent several months getting ready to leave. We’re both ready to be done “getting ready.” In case you’re wondering what the prep looks like, here you go.
Step #1 – Find trustworthy people to live in your house and take care of things. Check. Jack and Abby are awesome world travelers in their own right. We’ve gotten to know them through church and having spent time camping and hiking with them around northern AZ. They’ll be making our house their home and we couldn’t be happier with the arrangement.
Step #2 – Empty the house. While they will use some of our furniture, Jack and Abby have their own belongings and furnishings. Imagine getting ready to move – without actually moving. That’s what we’ve been doing for the past several months. It’s also been an excellent opportunity to do some major purging. Lot’s of toys, furniture and little used possessions have gone on the auction block. This has the double benefit of clearing space and funding our adventure. Quite a bit more has gone to local thrift stores. While there is some stress and hassle involved, downsizing is such a freeing experience.
Making room for other people’s stuff
Step #3 – Finish home projects. You know all those little jobs around the house that need doing? Why put off ’til tomorrow what you can put off until the day after tomorrow, right? Well, when someone else is moving in they kind of need to get done. Unfortunately, it has been a little like playing “Whack-A-Mole”. Every time I finish one project, two more pop up.
After seven years, the bathroom is finally done. Putting one new tread on one step revealed the need redo the entire entry. And so it went.
Step #4 – “Get the gear!” We already have all the gear – or so you’d think. However, Prudhoe bay is far north of the arctic circle and home to some truly heinous weather. Years ago when I spent a “summer” working there, it actually snowed in the middle of July. Thus, it seemed prudent to make sure we’re ready for cold, wet weather. Enter the famous KB Gear Skunk Works Laboratory. So far the Lab has churned out a new bike rack on the trailer, new rain mitts, rain booties, waterproof helmet covers, rain pants, softshell tights, waterproof seat covers, bike stands, eye masks for the 24 hour sun, just to name a few. Hopefully now that we’ve “got the gear” – we won’t need it.
Step #5 – Food. One of the benefits of bike touring is that normally food is readily available in towns along the way…normally. In this case, it is 250 miles from Prudhoe Bay to the first tiny foothold of civilization. It is another 250 miles to Fairbanks. Basically what that means is that we need to make and carry food for the first two weeks of our trip. Since we make our own ‘backpacking’ food, it is just one more thing that needs doing.
Step #6 – Enable remote access to finances. Apparently life doesn’t stop just because we’ve decided to move a ways off the grid. Fortunately modern technology makes this far easier than in days of yore when we did our first long trip. I already do all of our finances online. Unfortunately it is almost all tied to our desktop computer. That’s meant some long hours setting up cloud and mobile based applications, as well as getting all our passwords into a password manager. Naturally all this “gee whiz” tech doesn’t always play nicely together. Nevertheless, we should be able to get enough cell coverage and wifi to stay as connected as we need to be.
Step #7 – Packing. It’s one thing to pack for a weekend get away, or for a two week vacation. It’s something entirely different when you plan on being gone for more than a year – and a significant portion of that time will be spent on two wheels. Granted – there’s always Amazon – but Jeff Bezos won’t be much help when a spoke breaks 100 miles from the nearest town if I don’t have a spare or the means to replace it. So we’ve spent a fair amount of time putting together the tools and spares we are likely to need – keeping in mind we have a very finite amount of space. And keeping in mind that we have to carry it all. Same goes for clothes. We’re trying to find that perfect balance between having everything we need – without overloading ourselves with stuff we don’t.
One of many lists
Step #8 – Logistics. We are leaving Flagstaff in Bumpy3 with the Tardis in tow. This is quite luxurious by our standards. But what to do with our home away from home when we transition to two wheels? We needed to find some safe place to park for four to five months. We checked in with friends. Sharon made countless phone calls to storage facilities and RV storage lots. Nothing was working out or made sense. Eventually we connected with an awesome couple on the Warmshowers website. They have a large lot and are willing to allow us a lengthy parking spot.
Step #9 – Say goodbye. “Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow.” Saying goodbye is hard, but is an inevitable part of travel. We’re taking every opportunity to connect with folks here in Flagstaff, as well as family and friends scattered around the southwest. Fortunately the number of vaccinated folks continues to climb, and the generally nice weather has allowed outdoor meet ups.
That’s about it. I’m sure I’m missing something – which is why Sharon insists that I make lists. Currently mid-April is still our tentative launch date. Our flight arrives in Deadhorse on June 2nd. As I have opportunity, and as we have something worth noting, I will attempt to post once a week. If you haven’t already done so, you can sign up to get email notifications of new posts. Directions are on the bottom of the page. We’re looking forward to taking you on the trip with us. Hope we can make it interesting for you.
One year ago Sharon and I bought one way tickets to a far northern town in Norway. We had planned to spend four-ish months bicycle touring throughout Norway, the UK and Europe. It was an exciting few months of planning. However, as happened to so many plans last year, Covid intervened and the trip never happened. Insert your favorite frowny face emoji here. C’est la Vie! Fast forward one year. In a fever of irrational optimism, Sharon and I once again bought one-way tickets to the far north! This time to Alaska. That’s right. Hope springs eternal in the face of experience which proves otherwise. Some of you may have seen Sharon’s post on Facebook. Since we’ve gotten quite a few questions, I thought I’d provide a little background to our decision, and some insight into our plans.
A while back I spent some time wandering down a rabbit hole. I tried to imagine what life would look like if we sold everything! Sell the house, get rid of all the furniture and furnishings, extra vehicles – basically everything. What would life look like free from all the ties that bind, with extra cash in the bank? It was fun to imagine. What would you do? Well, it was an interesting thought, but really nothing more than a fanciful exercise in “what if?” I filed the thoughts away. Some time later I mentioned the idea to Sharon. She found the idea…intriguing. That led to countless hours playing the “could we/should we/would we/what if?” game. It was fun. It was scary. It was exciting! Eventually we decided that getting rid of everything was too great a leap – and ultimately unnecessary. Instead, we came up with an intermediate step – and our current plan. A wonderful young couple, Jack and Abby, has agreed live in our house for a year (+), look after things and manage our Airbnb. Freed from the responsibility of managing hearth and home, we will use the time to indulge our wanderlust.
Which leads back to one-way tickets to Alaska. Sometime mid-April of this year (2021), we will hand over the keys to Jack and Abby and leave Flagstaff with trailer and toys in tow. We will gradually make our way to the Seattle area by the end of May, and then fly to Anchorage with our bicycles and camping gear. With a population density of 1.2 people per square mile, Alaska seems like the perfect place to practice anti-social distancing. Having lived in AK for a time, I know that there are several lifetimes of exploring possible there. If the Canadian border opens this summer, our plan is to bicycle back to Washington. Worst case scenario is that the border remains closed and we will just spend a few months biking and hiking around my old stomping grounds before flying or ferrying back to Washington.
We hope the Alaska to Washington bike ride comes to pass. After that, plans are a bit vague. Before the arrival of winter, we’d like to spend some time back in the Wisconsin homeland. There are quite a few places we’d like to bicycle, kayak, hike and camp around the country. We’d like to visit family and friends. Once winter hits, we’ve talked about spending the long northern winter bicycle touring in southern hemisphere countries or tropical regions. This far out, those are all just fun ideas to kick around. Given all the uncertainty in the world, and just life in general, it seems foolish to spend too much planning at this point.
So there it is is. That’s our “no plan – plan”. We’re currently trying to have fun and stay in shape. We are also working hard at finishing home projects (mostly me) and steadily packing and clearing space for our caretakers (mostly Sharon). Turns out there is a long “to do” list when you’re going to be away for an extended period of time. Fortunately there are plenty of adventurous folks who have travelled this path before us and have left excellent “roadmaps” for us to follow. Also we live in a digital age and managing life from a distance is vastly easier than in years past. That’s all for now! We’re looking forward to getting on the road. We’re looking forward to you taking the journey with us (virtually). And, depending on where you are, hopefully our paths will cross!
Sharon and I have been enjoying different outdoor activities almost from the day we met. We’ve spent enough time camping using different human powered modes of travel, that we don’t think much about it. It is just what we do for fun. These are “normal” activities. On our recent bike trip, I was reminded that not everyone has the same perspective. When folks saw us in cycling clothes, riding with oddly shaped bags hanging from our bikes – I’m really not sure what they thought. I do know that from the odd looks and many questions – touring by bicycle was a completely foreign concept. It occurred to me that the nuts and bolts of bicycle touring might be a foreign concept to others as well. I thought I’d do a quick info piece on how one goes about touring our country – or the world – by bicycle.
Why?
Why ride a bicycle when getting from point A to point B is easier, faster and more comfortable in a car? Maybe that’s the point. To me it seems that a car is about the destination, while a bike is much more about the journey. You could travel 700 miles in a long day of driving…and at the end you’d be tired, cranky, and most of those miles would be a forgotten blur. We spent 3 1/2 weeks covering that distance, and I can remember something about almost every one of those 700 miles. A bicycle travels slowly enough (some of us more slowly than others) to allow you to really see and experience the landscape. The pace of travel also lends itself to meeting and interacting the curious, the colorful, and the kindred spirits.
Gear
There are endless debates in the cycling world about the best bike, the best gear, the best way to transport that gear…blah, blah, blah, blah. You could have a great time riding a basic Walmart bike with some gear thrown in a backpack. Of course, depending on the bike and conditions, that could also invite a special level of misery. Obviously a purpose built modern touring bike will be more comfortable and efficient. Lightweight camping gear carried in waterproof bags securely attached to one’s bike also makes life more comfortable and efficient. The sophisticated graph below conveys an important lesson about gear. You need enough gear to be safe and comfortable in the conditions in which you will be traveling. Beyond that, I refer to the graph below as I ponder whether additional pieces of gear are necessary or not. All that being said, here is a general gear list.
Maybe a bit much…?
Dave’s Sciency Gear Chart
Packing done right!
Bikes: Kona Sutra. Sharon’s has been heavily modified for fit and comfort.
Racks. Kona supplied rear. Tubus Tara low riders in front.
Bags: Ortlieb all around. Basically dry bags with clever mounting apparatus. German engineering. Water proof. Functional. They just work!
Front Left Pannier: Medium weight down jacket, hat, gloves. KB rain pants and rain jacket.
Front Right Pannier: Civilized pants and button shirt. Two short sleeve T’s with arm warmer arm sleeves. Long sleeve heavy shirt. Medium weight tights. Two pairs lycra bike shorts. Regular shorts. Socks and underwear. Windshirt.
Left Rear Pannier: This was my junk drawer. A bag with charging cables, battery bank, headlight, and portable keyboard. Stove (MSR Windburner – by far best I’ve ever had). A book. A bag with contacts, solution, rechargeable hair trimmer. A bag with some bike tools and parts. Two quart collapsible water container. Deck of cards and travel backgammon. Extra food as necessary.
Right Rear Pannier: Sleeping Pad (Big Agnes Q-Core insulated) Down Quilt (Enlightened Equipment – Revelation 10 degree) Lightweight camp chair (luxury).
When we’re touring, our intent is always to camp – preferably in some beautiful, remote (free) location. To us, that kind of seems to be the point of traveling…and we’re cheap. Next choice is camping for free in some unusual places. We’ve camped on porches (warmshowers.com), behind church offices (with permission), and in spooky Alabama backwoods. At one point we contemplated camping on the edge of a country cemetery…on Friday the 13th no less. Many years ago we slept under an Interstate highway bridge. Wild camping in the south and east is definitely more challenging without the easy access to public lands that we enjoy in the west.
Back in the day…
If free options aren’t available, we are not averse to staying in campgrounds. It is nice to occasionally have access to luxuries like running water, toilets, picnic tables, and showers. It pains us mightily, however, to pay the $20-30 that many places now charge. We also found that many “campgrounds” in the east were more like permanent mobile home parks. (no thanks) Normally our last choice is to look for a hotel. On this trip we used that option more than we’d planned. There were a number of reasons. We spent three days touring Charleston. We got caught in the cross hairs of two hurricanes (can you say massive quantities of rain?). Since it was late fall, it was getting dark and cold at 5:30pm and not getting light until 7:00am. That makes for long nights. Near the end we tossed in the towel and just planned for hotels the last few nights. On this trip, we camped 13 nights (9 free, 4 paid), and spent 11 nights in hotels. Ultimately there is no right or wrong. We liked our choices. On a different trip, in a different location, we may have different options and make different choices.
Food
Aaaah. Food! One of the joys of bicycle touring is guilt free eating! And unlike backpacking, you don’t have to carry it all with you. We almost always carry with us some bagels, a small jar of peanut butter, some tea and hot chocolate mix, as well as some snack food – Payday bars and such. That way we always have something and can camp without worrying about having to get food. Generally though, we would stop by a grocery at least once a day and pick up food for dinner and breakfast, as well as some snack for the day. We carry the stove mentioned above, a small pot, frying pan, as well as a variety of seasonings. With some creativity, just about any kind of meal is possible. Our favorite dinner was probably chicken burritos. Sharon makes some pretty amazing oatmeal creations for breakfast and carries the makings for that. Sadly, I can’t stand oatmeal. I’m actually kind of a lazy eater and am happy with a bagel. Of course there is always the option of getting some takeout from local restaurants. This time around we were struck by the lack of food options though. Many of the small towns we passed through had no grocery stores at all. Several times our food choices were limited to whatever we could buy at a Dollar General store!
Chicken burrito fixin’s
Lunch break in the countryside
A Typical Day
I’ll start by saying there really is no typical day on the road. Some days we had a specific destination in mind, other days we basically flipped a coin at every crossroads and went in whatever direction struck our fancy. Some days we felt strong and just enjoyed biking all day long. Other times we called it quits after a few hours. Some days were low gear grunts up burly mountains, others were rolling, flat rides through forests and farm fields. Our longest day was 63 miles, our shortest was a 13 rugged traverse over steep gravel roads. We had days of T-Shirt warmth, brilliant sunshine, tailwinds and downhills. We had 20 degree mornings and icicles, torrential rain and brutal headwinds. That’s the beauty of biking…no two days are alike. I will try to describe a somewhat typical day. Generally we would get up and break camp at first light. Either eat breakfast, or ride into town and stop after it had warmed a bit. Throughout the day we would ride, stopping every couple of hours to eat, drink, and consult with “Miss Bossy Pants” Google Maps. Whenever possible we opted for small country roads. This led through beautiful landscapes, past rural mansions and dilapidated shacks. We passed through quaint towns where we had lovely chats with the locals. We passed through ugly towns where miserable looking folks either ignored us or “politely” suggested we get off the F-ing road. There would be endless conversations about food, and the obligatory food stops. At some point during the day we would start thinking about where we were going to spend the night. This involved consulting with locals, looking at Google Maps, or just looking for likely places to camp. Assuming we found a place, first order of business was always to get the tent and sleeping arrangements set. Then it was dinner time. Then it was usually cold and dark, so into the tent we went. We played cards, journaled, read books, watched some downloaded show, or just chatted about the day or made plans for tomorrow. It is a very simple lifestyle where you are very much just in the moment. It also ends up being a very appealing lifestyle.
People and Places…It’s what life on the road is all about!
I hope this behind the scenes look at bike touring (the way we do it anyway) offers some insight into not only why, but how we do it. One thing is certain. Our recent experience, hardships and all, has only sparked a greater determination to see more of the world on two wheels. Plans are already afoot… Enjoy! Seize the Carp!
“That’s all I got to say about that…” Forrest Gump
Days 22-24: Monday – Wednesday (11/16-11/18) After Chattanooga, the riding seemed a bit – anticlimatic. Other than some busy roads in and around cities, and especially riding into Knoxville, we rode through more beautiful countryside in the Tennessee River valley. Up and over countless ridges, through some lovely valleys, along rivers, creeks and lakes. It made us want to keep on riding forever. Then the reality of short, cool days, long colder nights led us to realize we were ready to be done. We decided to forego camping the last two nights and just enjoy the ride. And so we did…
Routefinding via Google Maps. We nicknamed the voice “Miss Bossy Pants”. An invaluable tool…mostly.
Interesting views along the road.
Sharon stopped to pick up a quarter…we are on a fixed income.
Sunny lunch spot out of the wind.
Tennessee River.
Typical, lovely back road.
Spooky Old Tree
And so it was, that after 24 days on the road, we closed the circle and arrived back at Knoxville. Along the way we’d spent time spent in Tennessee, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama and Tennessee again. Along the way we covered just under 700 human powered miles. It was almost everything we’d hoped it would.
Some Observations about life on the road (again)….
1. Bicycle touring is awesome! We loved it back then, and after a long hiatus, turns out we love it still. We will ride again….
2. In the spirit of the upcoming Thanksgiving celebration, we are both extremely grateful to be physically able to handle the demands of biking with loaded bicycles over some fairly difficult terrain – day after day. As the years have piled up, and body parts start to wear out, this is not something we take for granted.
3. Many people have commented on this, and we both heartily agree. We are so unbelievably blessed that we both share a passion for adventure.
4. The timing of this trip was somewhat dictated by other events. Somehow, we hadn’t really considered the reality of touring in late October-November. Most days it was dark and cold by 6pm. It was dark and cold until 7am. Even with good books, cards, and downloaded movies, that’s a long time to be tent bound. We could easily have continued on the road but for the long nights.
5. We both LOVED biking in the south and east. The secondary roads are amazing. The terrain is challenging and rewarding. The vast majority of drivers were beyond considerate. Ideal biking.
6. We anticipated some difficulty in finding camping spots. Turned to be more difficult than we imagined. Lots of private property with some ominous warning signs. Still, with some creativity and some generous folks, it is possible.
7. I’m way too judgmental. We had a few negative experiences with aggressively unpleasant folks, which in turn can lead to generalizing and stupid assumptions. On more than one occasion, someone I had prejudged to be a dumb, inbred hillbilly hick turned out to be a kind, thoughtful, enouraging individual. Lesson learned (again).
8. Let go of guilt. For us bike touring means camping. And because we are uber cheap, our default is to free camp. It just about killed us to spend $20 or $30 to stay in a campground. We both felt like we were betraying our cheap, hardcore bicycling ethic by staying in hotels as often as we did (11 nights) Granted, we hadn’t anticipated the bad weather from TWO hurricanes…and we had planned to spend three nights in Charelston, but still… In the end, we were at peace with our decisions. The goal, after all, was to enjoy ourselves. That meant letting go of the self-imposed guilt.
9. With the exception of bringing along a solar charger, we had the gear dialed in. Other than some minor tweaks, it was gratifying to have the bikes and gear figured out so we could just enjoy the biking.
10. We really enjoy meeting people. It is part of what makes bicycle touring such a great way to travel. Loaded bikes are a natural conversation starter, and lead to some amazing connections.
Local biker in Townsend, TN
Rachel had done a major solo bike ride and was super excited to meet us and help any way she could.
This couple saved us from deadly traffic and ferried us to the top of tha Smokie mts.
Warm shower Jaime let us camp on his deck…and take a shower…and gave us excellent back roads suggestions.
Pastor at Crossroads Baptist church let us camp behind their offices.
Luke and Katie from Chattanooga. Super cool couple
Warmshower Susie and husband Glen let us park at their house for 3 1/2 weeks
11. What’s next? We’re always looking for the next adventure. Given the Covid landscape, it still seems highly unlikely that our great Arctic bike adventure will be possible next summer. Our experience with this trip has led us to consider biking around the western U.S. for three, or four, or five months?? And if the border to Canada were to re-open??? Who knows. We do know that as long as we’re able, we’ll be doing much of our traveling via two wheels.
For now, its back to Flagstaff, get some things situated around the house, and get ready for whatever is next. Thanks for joining us virtually on this journey. I’m curious to hear what you think of this slightly different “diary” updates. Until next time…seize the carp!
Day 12: Friday (11/6) (Laurens to Newberry) Long day yesterday. Legs were a bit tired starting out. Our hope was that today would be an easier day. Turned out to be sort of true. We traded some of the larger, steeper hills for rolling terrain and a headwind….and hot weather. It felt nice to be in shorts and a T again, but by the end of the day it was starting to wear on us. Actually, by the end of the day quite a bit was starting to wear on us. Mentally we were both ready for a break from biking every day. When we arrived at Newberry, we’d planned to take a break and continue heading south for several more hours. I made a command decision and booked a nice hotel, right across the street from the city park where we were resting. There was a quaint downtown district that needed exploring. There were no obvious places to camp on our route south. And finally, we were both done. With lodging taken care of, we had a lovely evening chatting with a wonderful lady/owner of a local bike shop. We sat outside, had a local beer, and listened to some local live music. It was exactly what the doctor ordered.
Newberry
Day 13: Saturday (11/7) On the road again heading south. We felt both mentally and physically refreshed. Sharon found a free campsite on the shores of Lake Murray, a large reservoir just west of Columbia, SC. The biking was pleasant and we arrived after a short 22 mile ride. Apart from a drunk and/or stoned/strung out guy invading our personal space, we had a quiet evening reading and relaxing and plotting our next moves. We’ve wrestled with the miles yet to go to Charleston and the unwelcome arrival of some hurricane inspired bad weather. Our eventual plan – ride 30-ish miles to the Columbia airport and rent a one way car into Charleston. That gets us there ahead of the bad weather and – big plus – we don’t have to spend hours trying to avoid getting run down by big city drivers who so far seem aggressively offended having to share the road with non-motorized vehicles.
Relaxing at Lake MurrayAlways welcome free camping site.
Day 14: Sunday (11/8) We so seldom have a plan, its kind of fun when a plan actually comes together. We had a fast ride into Columbia – 30-ish miles before noon. The super nice rental guy upgraded us to a mini van, so transporting the bikes was a breeze. We found a drop off place less than a mile from our hotel. I guess because we’d rented a car, the hotel gave us a screaming deal. And because we were on bikes, they upgraded us to a wonderful first floor room. And best of all, we’re right in the midst of historic downtown Charleston. We enjoyed the Indigo Inn’s complementary glass of wine and plotted our next day’s adventures.
Charleston
Day 15: Monday (11/9) Sharon found a highly recommended tour guide for a walking history lesson. He was a fire hose of information. I’m not going to attempt to share even a portion of all that we learned. The history goes back to the late 1600’s and encompasses the Revolutionary war, the Constitution, massive involvement in the slave trade, the Civil War and so on. Just one small story I think offers a glimpse of what is on offer here. We stood on the sea wall, looking at Fort Sumpter three miles away. Across the street stands the house (and third story porch) where General Beauregard gave the signal to begin shelling Fort Sumpter. From that same porch, an elderly man whose family has owned that house since before the civil war, stood and waved good morning to us. We walked and biked some 15 miles around the historic district. Just so much to take in. One observation. Our tour guide was a life long resident of Charleston. He was very proud of the massive wealth on display in the historic district. He seemed somewhat unwilling to outright condemn the slavery that made such wealth possible. At worst it was an “unfortunate” part of the history. And yes, it “existed” but wasn’t that big a part of the city. In fact, Charleston at one point had over 40 slave markets, as the city served as a hub for the entire south for the domestic slave trade. A bit troubling.
Death’s head depicts the head of the deceased attached to wings, depicting their journey heavenward. This style of “sideways” home was a common design in early Charleston.
Day 16: Tuesday (11/10) Today was supposed to be a rainy day, so we planned some indoor activities…museums and such. All informative, some more interesting than others. The Slave Mart museum offered some chilling insights into the local slave trade. Definitely more than “unfortunate”! Enjoyed lunch on the patio at a local BBQ place – so tasty! Walked through the city market – far and away the least interesting thing to see in Charleston. By the time we’d made the rounds, the rain finally arrived. We spent a chill afternoon planning the next phase of our trip. With 5+ days of extremely heavy hurricane rain in the forecast, we once again opted for a vehicle assist. One way rental from Charleston to the north of Atlanta for only $60 should bring us far enough inland to avoid the rain. Its a plan!
Day 17: Wednesday (11/11) After breakfast, and with some time to kill before picking up our car, we took advantage of a break in the weather for one last spin around town. Huge thumbs up to Charleston. It truly lived up to the hype. Also, thumbs up to the Indigo Inn. All the folks there were super friendly, and super helpful. We really enjoyed chatting with all the staff. The drive to Atlanta took a bit longer than planned. We trusted Google Map’s routefinding when we shouldn’t have. We choose poorly on two occasions trying to get around some accident in Atlanta. By the time we arrived near our destination, it was late and heavy rain was forecast. One more hotel night. We’d both be feeling pretty decadent if our lodging wasn’t “skanky” as Sharon described it. Ultimately, it was dry and close to our car drop off location.
Day 18: Thursday (11/12) Cloudy, but dry. Sharon came across a rails to trails route called the Silver Comet. We jumped on after a quick 5 miles. It is amazing. Beautifuly paved bike/hike trail that runs 98 miles into Alabama. It was beautiful. Rolling through the outskirts of Atlanta into the countryside, and through small towns. Just fantastic biking. After 45 miles, we arrived at Camp Comet, a small, free campsite for travelers on the trail. After we cleared out some garbage left by previous visitors, we had a nice afternoon/evening relaxing. Dinner was an amazing chicken/onion/pepper burrito. While we’ve mostly enjoyed simple fare, we do have the option from time to time to pick up the makings for something a little more extravagant. Tasty.
Scenes from the Silver Comet trail. Great biking!!!
Day 19: Friday (11/13) Strange happenings over night. Some large creature nearby was huffing and puffing rather loudly. I have no idea what it was, but it didn’t seem happy that we were camped nearby. There was some yelling and flashlight waving before we were left in peace. Of course I fell right back asleep after the excitement (yeah right!). Hit the trail early and rolled into Cedarton for a massive cinnamon roll/apple fritter sugar hit. We said good-bye to the Silver Comet and started heading north. Once again, more beautiful countryside – perfect for biking. At some point we entered the “great state of Alabama”! Sorry Forrest, but our impressions of Alabama were not all that great. Massive (and of course VERY loud) pick up trucks driven by stereotypical Rednecks made life on the road unpleasant. Towns were dirty, and run down. Generally we were made to feel very unwelcome. We wasted no time getting back into the countryside. Just as night fell, we managed to find a secluded clearing in the woods to pitch the tent. We had a few misgivings, but it ended up being an uneventful evening.
Alabama camping. We found a remote cemetery that looked promising…on Friday the 13th. We opted for a clearing in the woods instead.
Day 20: Saturday (11/14) Very cold and damp over night. Tent fly was saturated both inside and out from dew and condensation from our breath. Once again, beautiful countryside and truly disgusting little towns. We try not to be judgmental, and we recognize the impact of poverty in rural America, but neither of us wanted to spend any more time in town than was necessary. We picked up a few food items at a Dollar General and beat feet. We survived almost getting run off the road by several pick ups who also decided it would be fun to “roll coal” as they passed these stupid cyclists. The day was saved when we met Luke and Katie. They had driven south from their home in Chattanooga for a bike ride in the country. We spent a fair amount of very pleasant time chatting – and making possible plans to meet up in a day or two. After parting ways, we traveled to our 3rd free campsite in a row. It ended up being a good day, and our 3rd or 4th 50+ mile day.
No lack of hills in the southeast. Luke and Katie from Chattanooga. A chance meeting led to great conversation and some new friends. More free camping in northern Georgia.
Day 21: Sunday (11/15) Today marks three weeks on the road. It ended up being a great night. Warmer and drier than its been. Once again felt compelled to chase off some night time critters. We got a super early (for us) start and made great time. We had a slight tailwind, and over all, slight downhill into Chattanooga. Traffic was light, and biking was scenic as we paralleled Lookout Mountain. We only had to endure two bouts of heavy rain. By noon we had arrived at our hotel on the north side of Chattanooga. The gracious people at La Quinta allowed us a super early check-in. We both took the most luxurious shower ever, and headed off to enjoy the Packer game from the patio of a local Packer restuarant. We’re looking forward to a bit of a lie in tomorrow. From here, we expect about three more days of cycling before we close the loop and arrive back at our car. I think it is safe to say the thought is a little bittersweet. It was been such a joy being on the road again. We have met some wonderful, interesting people. The scenery has been spectacular at times, always interesting. Having said that, conditions have been a bit challenging at times. We especially hadn’t fully considered the really short days. Tomorrow we continue our march to Knoxville. 560 miles down…another 110 to go. Our goal for tomorrow is some land owned by Luke. He graciously gave us directions and offered us the option of camping there. We had hoped to be able to ride there with him, but plans changed. As always with these passing friendships, we never know when we might meet again. That’s all for now.
Day 5-11 aka “life is a highway, I’m gonna ride it. Every day’s a winding road‘
Day 5: Friday (10/30) Now that the hurricane has passed, our plan was to head to Asheville for a look-see. First six miles out of Maggie Valley were almost all downhill…glorious! We were not liking the busy highways, so we desperately went looking for back roads. We found some, but at one point Sharon commented, “pedal faster – I hear banjos!” Over all, it was pleasant biking through pleasant country side. Things got a bit tense the closer we got to Asheville. Eventually we took hiking paths, a semi-flooded greenway along the French Broad River to our campsite for two nights…the Wilson Riverfront RV park. Looked nice enough… At any rate, we did a quick set up, rode up an insanely steep hill away from the river to a second hand gear store. Sharon needed a windshirt, and we added a Z-Rest knock off as added insulation because of the cold. Found a microbrew (not very difficult, given that there are 26-ish in Asheville.) Had a pleasant meal and made our way back to camp – and sleep.
Jaluska Lake on the way to AshevilleLots of new water flowing in the French Broad riverThe RV campsite “looked” nice. Full moon over the French BroadDowntown Asheville from across the river.
Day 6: Saturday (10/31) Looks aside, this was perhaps one of the worst campgrounds ever. Proximity to two highways made it seem we were sleeping in the median strip of an interstate. It was so loud, we could barely hear the loud crowd having a good ol’ time right next to us. “We gone!” We kissed $20 good bye rather than spend another night there. We packed up and spent the day roaming Asheville, trying to get a feel for the place. There is a Riverfront Arts district – very cool. We wandered through some of the galleries and met the artists. Good stuff. We took a bit of a tour through the historic Montford area. It is an area just north of downtown with winding streets and an eclectic mix of wonderful old homes. I could see living there – unfortunately our bank account doesn’t hold the same view. Its a pretty pricey area. We intended to stop at one of the famous microbrews that some people had suggested, but the Halloween crowds were out in full force on this nice Saturday afternoon. Reluctantly we headed south in search of an alternative (and quieter) place to camp. We chanced upon a likely spot in the wood just off the Blue Ridge parkway. Secluded and peaceful – just the way we like it.
Day 7: Sunday (11/1) So – the rain overnight was neither expected or welcome. Nothing more enjoyable than putting away cold, saturated nylon. Oh well. We stopped for a worship service at Living Savior south of Asheville. Youngish pastor – Caleb Kurbis – did an excellent job. Enjoyed chatting with folks afterwards. Then it was off to REI. Sharon finally traded in her 35 year old biking rainpants for some that were actually – waterproof! We suffered through a Packers loss, then hit the road again. South and west of the city was beautiful. We had miscalculated the effect of daylights saving time. In our defense we haven’t to deal with it for the last 20 years. Turns out that instead of an extra hour of sunshine, we were going to have to deal with an hour less. It would have been nice to loaf a bit more, but darkness waits for no man. We arrived at a a campground in the Pisgah National recreation area right as night fell. Once again $22 price tag seemed rather steep and a bit unnecessary. It was a very nice campground though.
Day 8: Monday 11/2 Wow! Crazy night on several fronts. Gale force winds sounded like jet engines or freight trains roaring through the trees. However, because of our location at the base of a steep hill, the tent didn’t even stir all night! Wild. We talked to the campground host as we were leaving. The low overnight was 26 degrees. Not really what we were expecting here in the “south”. Rather than backtracking today, we opted for a forest service road (found out later it was Yellow Gap road) 12-14 miles across to Hwy 276. It was a billy goat, rough gravel road. What it lacked in modern amenities, it made up in scenery. There were endless rushing creeks and rivers, beautiful, expansive mountain views. At about 3pm we pulled into a large picnic area that offered some secluded areas for undeveloped camping. We enjoyed a few hours of sunshine and semi warmth before setting up and settling in for the night. This was our first 0/0 day. Zero dollars spent on either camping or food.
Day 9: Tuesday (11/3) We had found the perfect spot to spend the night. It was peaceful in the extreme. HOWEVER…we were above 3,000′ which meant that it was much colder than last night. We guessed low 20’s overnight. That made for a loooong night….and while pleasant…also a long descent into Brevard. Never have I ridden while wearing all my clothes, big down jacket, two stocking caps and all my raingear. We had to stop several times to attempt to restore feeling to our fingers and toes. In spite of all that, it was still glorious. There was water in all its forms – rivers, streams, waterfalls, water trickles – and icicles! In other words, spectacular riding. By the time we had arrived in Brevard, refueled, replenished our groceries and plotted our path out of town, it was already mid afternoon. Looking ahead, it appeared that we had another small mountain range to cross before leaving the mountains behind. After some false starts and stops, we ended up at the doorstep of Jamie Patterson – gracious warm shower host. Fascinating young man. He’d worked in the aerospace industry. Quit and with his girlfriend had ridden across most of the country and backpacked around Mexico. He spent a few years flipping houses and is now (possibly) on the verge of re-entering the engineering world. In all his spare time he also road raced as a Cat 1 rider (that means he’s really good), and has now embraced all the hiking and mountain biking that the Brevard area has to offer. We learned this while sharing some of the local beer. It felt great to get a shower, wash clothes and not have to worry about where we would stay. We ended up spending the night on his deck. Perfect end to a lovely day.
Day 10: Wednesday (11/4) Jaime had to run to the hardware store for supplies (he’s rehabbing/flipping his current home). We took the opportunity to enjoy a meal cooked in a real kitchen, and get packed in the warmth of his living room. By the time he got back, we were ready to hit the road. He’d given us a .gpx file of his favorite back road route across the mountains. This would allow us to bypass the uber busy main road. It worked beautifully. Along the way we hooked up with local rider Jim who kept us company up some of the long climbs. It was fun getting his take on the local scene. And the riding was AMAZING!!! It was more fun than humans should be allowed. It was perhaps…some of the best biking either of us has ever enjoyed. Long climbs sure – but the downhill portions were long, smooth, winding roads. We were both laughing out loud as we came screaming down out of the mountains.
Rachel and friend
We stopped at a crossroads for a fuel break and met Rachel. Several years ago she spent three months on the road, bicycling up the east coast – performing with her guitar as she went. Apparently touring cyclists are quite rare in these parts and she was quite excited to meet us. Like many travelers, she’d been the recipient of much generosity on the road and was very eager to pay that forward with us. She was so pleasant, we so much wanted to spend time with her. Unfortunately we have many miles to go to reach Charleston, and some ominous weather is in the forecast. In the end, we took Rachel’s advice on routes and ended up just north of Easely. The pastor at Crossroads Baptist church graciously allowed us to camp behind their church office. That was a real life saver. We’ve been told by many locals that stealth camping on private property would not be looked upon favorably. There were no private or public campgrounds along the entire route, nor were than any hotels. That creates a bit of a dilemma for cycling travelers.
Day 11: Thursday (11/5) Up early and on the road. We were both eager to get a hot breakfast in Easely. Our plan for the day was an ambitious one. Sixty some miles to Laurens and a hotel. We’ve camped quite a few nights in a row in some fairly challenging conditions. We wanted to make some bigger miles towards Charleston, and finally wanted to be able to watch the Packer game. All of that equals a hotel for tonight. Today ended up being another absolutely beautiful and challenging day. We weren’t sure what we’d find in South Carolina, but the back roads have offered up some amazing riding. After 63 miles, we finally arrived at the Rodeway Inn. Nothing special – but it offered everything we wanted…plus the chance to bring our blog up to date. So that’s it for now. Just a few random thoughts. Some great road names: Sugar Likker Road. Thissa Way. Possum Holler Rd. Shout out to all the nice folks with encouraging words. Looking forward to seeing what comes next on the road to Charleston.
Many, many years ago we set out on a bicycle tour from Richmond, Virginia and headed north on what was to become a defining experience of our lives together. Thirty three years on, we mounted our fully loaded bikes on the outskirts of Knoxville, TN and set out on another journey of discovery. As we wait out the gale force winds and torrential rains from hurricane Zeta in the safety of a Quality Inn, I thought I would share bits and pieces of our journey. Following the lead of uber bicycle tourists/friends Rob and Ruth, I’m just going to give brief day by day updates on our progress.
Day 1: We were twelve days driving across the country, visiting kids and grandkids before arriving in Knoxville. A kind and generous “Warmshowers” couple (Glenn and Suzi) allowed us to park our vehicle for the 3+ weeks we would be biking. Along with some local history and color, they provided detailed route information that allowed us to negotiate our way safely through the outskirts of the city, across the Tennessee River and south toward the Great Smoky Mountains.
SuziReady to hit the road. Nice greenway through Knoxville.Our first taste of the “hills” of eastern TennesseeThat’s a satisfied grinCamp in Townsend, TN along the Little River
Thanks to excellent instructions and Google maps, we wound our way south through beautiful countryside to Townsend. $34 to camp was a shock to the system, but late in the day we didn’t feel like spending the time finding an…”undeveloped” campsite. The shower was nice! An excellent first day.
Day 2: Our “no plan” plan means endlessly changing our “plans”. After exploring lots of options, we decided for a long day pedaling through and over the Great Smoky Mountains. The first 20+ miles were stunning as we climbed up along the Little River as it made its way out of the mountains.
Alan and Sharon – first “trail angels”
Things changed when we arrived at the visitor center. Did you know that the Great Smoky Mountains NP is the most visited National Park in the country? And apparently we arrived on what most agreed was the busiest day they’d ever seen. We started riding the 13 miles and 4500′ vertical feet to the top. Three miles on and we were ready to throw in the towel. No shoulder, an insane amount of traffic, car mirrors whizzing by inches from our heads. We were definitely at risk and were clearly posing a hazard as some cars made ill-advised and poorly executed passing attempts. Out went the thumbs and in less than ten minutes Alan and Sharon ferried us to the top of Newfound Gap. The views were amazing, and all things considered, quite nice from the back of a plush pickup truck. We also clearly made the right call. Hundreds and hundreds of cars were parked along the road….often sticking out onto the road. Traffic was a nightmare as people walked on the road, cars pulled out or slowed to find places to park. Once at the top, we enjoyed the views and chatted with a few other folks. Then came the glorious downhill ride. Always the highlight of any uphill effort.
Days end found us in Cherokee looking for a place to camp. The one campground we visited was disgusting, so we decided to find our own. A few miles up the road we came across a likely spot. While we were having dinner, we got chatting with a young couple from Asheville. After getting some local suggestions for places to visit there, they left us with samples of the local beer. Trail magic #2.
Chicken burrito fixin’s
Day 3: Hurricane Zeta was forecast to make its arrival, bringing torrential rain and wind for several days. In true hardcore camper fashion, we made reservations at a Quality Inn a few miles down the road. Brilliant. We just had to get there. As promised the rain started at 7am. Even though it was still dark, we quickly broke camp, affixed lights, and pedaled off into the dark and stormy morning. As promised, the rain was pretty intense. In what was clearly a design flaw, the road climbed many thousand feet up to Soco gap before dropping back into Maggie Valley. It was a pretty brutal day of riding, made better by the knowledge that we had a warm, dry room waiting for us. Again, we chose wisely. Even with the poor conditions, it really was beautiful country to ride through.
Those are the same rain pants Sharon wore on our east coast trip 30+ years ago. They still fit…unfortunately they are no longer rain proof. Soco Falls
Day 4: Rest day while rain does what rain does and local rivers rage. Laundry. Visit to “Wheels through Time” vintage motorcycle museum. So far we’ve covered 107 miles and climbed 8,300′ feet. Lots of poring over maps deciding on the next phase of our journey. Given that we’ll probably change our mind a dozen times before heading on to who knows where, I’m not even going to speculate on where we’ll end up. Thanks for coming along on the journey so far. Every few days as we have opportunity, I’ll add a few more photos and left you know where we’ve been. Sign up below to get email updates.
Even a brief visit through this site will reveal that Sharon and I are fans of human powered recreation. We have sought out wild and beautiful places via boats and bikes, on foot and on skis. I don’t have much tolerance for motor vehicles intruding on my little interludes in nature. I despise quads and side by sides tearing up the forests. Many years ago we rented a jeep for a day in Colorado. I utterly failed to see the attraction. Thus it may come as a bit of a surprise to learn that I’ve had a motorcycle license for 35 years. Since 2010 my vehicle of choice has been a venerable 1998 BMW dual sport motorcycle affectionately named “Fiona.” Why Fiona? Remember the movie? True beauty lies within? And the color is almost spot on! Fiona and I have happily traveled throughout the Southwest (Death Valley, Utah, AZ and Colorado).
I fully recognize the contradiction in my attitude toward motor vehicles. I’m reminded of a t-shirt for sale on a popular motorcycle accessory website. It reads, “You are not stuck in traffic – you are traffic.” No matter how I rationalize my motives or actions, the fact is that I am traffic. I am part of the mass of humanity choosing to recreate in the outdoor spaces of our country. And as I did so via motorcycle this past week, I was confronted by that reality once again.
A minor knee issue has temporarily limited my human powered travels. In response, I came up with a vague plan for Fiona to spirit me of to a remote section of the Kaibab National Forest along the north rim of the Grand Canyon. I was looking for a few days of quiet solitude in a beautiful place. I was more than a little disappointed to find out that hundreds of other people had the same idea. What made it worse was that they’d had the same idea before I did. Time after time I arrived a beautiful location near the rim, only to find every available camping spot was occupied. How rude! I was working on some serious righteous indignation – until I reminded myself – I was traffic. As much as I hated to admit it – the universe does not revolve around me. I had no claim on the forest and could hardly get angry with people who also wanted to enjoy a beautiful place.
Having said that, allow me a brief moment on my soapbox. The camper and jeep below had pulled off road right into the forest – right past a sign that read “Area closed to off-road motor vehicle travel” in order to camp next to the rim. I noticed this disturbing trend along the north rim, as well as around Flagstaff. In one several acre area near Lake Mary, every square foot of open ground had been trampled by vehicle tracks. Dozens of groups were camping in what had previously been untrammeled forest. The other problem is pictured at right. This is an example of what regularly gets left behind by people spending time in the forests near Flagstaff. I kid you not! In what alternate universe is this considered even remotely OK? I realize I can’t prevent this behavior. What I can do – and try to do – is not be part of the problem. I don’t encourage Fiona to go places we don’t belong. And however we travel, “Leave no Trace!” camping means just that. Thus endeth the sermon.
In spite of the crowds, I did find the peaceful solitude and beauty I was craving. I hiked out to watch a Canyon sunset. I drove along roads lined by golden aspen trees. I enjoyed silence so profound, the only thing I heard was the blood pumping in my ears. I watched a full moon rise and illuminate a vast swath of emptiness. I sat for hours and just…looked…at nothing in particular. In doing so I saw…everything. I saw some birds soaring lazily, while others were clearly busy getting on with the business of the day. I watched as shadows fell away and revealed rock outcroppings and patches of forest. I watched as early morning shadows revealed folds in the earth, and I traced dry drainages to their confluence with the River. In the end, it was everything I’d been hoping to find in a short get away. And finally, an enjoyable conversation with Christine at Lee’s Ferry on the way home reminded me that among the people who are part of the “traffic”, there are some fascinating people doing some pretty amazing stuff. I leave you with a few images to hopefully inspire you to get out and enjoy – and tread lightly while doing so.
Canyon SunsetNorth Rim view never disappoints Front row seat for sunrise
Back in the day, the British sketch comedy show “Monty Python” would transition from one sketch to another with a ridiculous image and the words “And now for something completely different.” That seemed appropriate as Dan and I strapped on panniers and prepared to tackle the gravel roads and two tracks of the Superior National Forest in far northern Minnesota.
This was going to be something completely different. In recent years a whole movement known as “bikepacking” has become popular. Typically a mountain bike is fitted with camping gear strapped on and around the frame to enable self-sufficient off road capability. You may notice that the picture below does not look like the picture to the left. That’s because I do not have bikepacking gear, yet we were going to follow a bikepacking route Thus, this trip was going to be a completely different beast. I do have a very capable road bike, set up for road touring with racks, panniers, etc. I do have some offroad capable tires though, so Dan’s idea seemed perfect. What could possibly go wrong?
My faithful steed ready to take on the northwoods
Dan had uncovered an adventurous bikepack route over many of the Forest Service roads near the Boundary Waters Canoe area. Given our home base in Flagstaff, normally I wouldn’t have considered jetting off to do a trip near the Canadian border. Because of a few other things going on, the timing worked out well to join him. I had about four days to book a cheap flight, box up the bike, sort and pack gear/food, and make my way to Minneapolis, and then with Dan to a motel a short distance from the trailhead.
The suggested route with camping and resource information as found on a bikepacking web site.
Almost immediately it appeared as though we were going to have a challenging day. While the overnight rain had ended, and the forecast was for clear skies, 20-30mph winds remained. Then the climbing started. Then the rain returned. The wind, hills (2,000′ worth) and rain would stay with us the entire day. That in itself would have been enough fun, but then miles of road ‘improvements’ left a nice, soft layer of dirt and gravel for us to slog through. One might think that when faced with this level of ‘stupid fun’, the prudent course of action would be to retreat to the nearest brew pub. Of course we’ve seldom been accused of being prudent.
Overnight rain had ended and we awoke with the sun…it didn’t last.
When you come to the fork in the road…take it!
Still smiling in spite of rain, wind, mud and flat tires.
All’s well that ends well. Our windy, rainy, muddy day ended with a welcome bit of sun.
Never mind the wind. Never mind the rain. Never mind the muddy roads. Never mind the flat tire just as another torrent of rain arrived. We were there to have fun!! And we were going to have FUN whether we liked it or not. Actually we did have fun. We had the right gear. We were warm enough. We had chosen to be there. At some point in those situations, you have to just laugh at the ridiculous nature of the whole thing. Granted, that moment came almost immediately, but by days end, the rain had stopped. The sun made a brief appearance. We found a lovely, isolated place to camp next to a lake. It was all good! Plus, our patience and suffering was duly rewarded over the next three days as we enjoyed tailwinds, sunshine, perfect fall weather and mostly good roads. The only real challenge came on day two where the suggested routed took us down a remote two track. The recent rains left behind miles mud puddles interspersed with rocky two track that made us question our choice of routes.
Loving me some sunny scenery
No shortage of water to filter
Speaking of filtered water…
The beauty of bike touring…home is wherever you are!
39 degree morning wardrobe change. Some things you just can’t unsee….
Grand Marais…cool little town
In the end, the north country treated us well. It had been a long spell since either of us had done any bike touring. This trip provided an opportunity to refresh some rusty bike touring skills, and reminded us why we originally fell in love with bike touring. We were able to put some new gear through a shakedown cruise. It was satisfying to learn that the bikes and gear performed flawlessly. It was comforting to know that we could easily handle some pretty rugged terrain should it become necessary. The scenery, the company, the joy of being able to cover significant distance each day at a reasonable pace had us both desiring and planning for bigger and better things.
For all you Forrest Gump fans out there (and really, who isn’t?) I had a “Lt. Dan” moment. As the sixth thunderstorm in a row came rolling through, I channeled Lt. Dan as he swung from the rigging of Forrest’s shrimp boat during a hurricane. “You call this a storm? Is this all you’ve got!” I stood getting soaked, almost knocked off my feet by the wind, and screamed at the storm. For the record, I believe I was justified. Thunderstorm #6 blew down the rain shelter and flipped my kayak 20′ up the beach! All of this after the prevailing winds had not prevailed at all during the first four days of the trip…I’d had just about enough!
It wasn’t meant to be like this. Sharon and I were meant to be making final preparations for our epic Norway/European bike trip. Covid-19 meant everyone around the world has pretty much hung out the “Closed” sign. Fortunately, it only took about five minutes to come up with plan “B” and about five days to get food and gear together for a trip from Wahweap Bay to Hall’s Crossing…about 95-ish miles depending on the source. Sharon graciously dropped me off at Wahweap and I set out for a long, solo trip up the lake.
I guessed that it would take ten days, but I brought food for fourteen. I’ve paddled plenty, but never this far or for this long. I honestly didn’t know what I’d be able to do each day. I also didn’t know what the weather would do. I had hoped for prevailing winds from the southwest to provide a gentle assist as I made my way north and east. As noted earlier, the winds were seldom gentle, even on the final days when they finally decided to offer some assistance. But hey, its spring in Arizona – I should have known to expect the unexpected.
Camping
One of the huge benefits of camping in AZ and UT is being able to sleep under the stars. Although I did need to make some accommodation for the wind on a couple of evenings, it was absolutely glorious sleeping out. I was able to watch as the moon gradually waned over the eight nights. Each night was I able to lay in my bag and stare up at starry night sky.
Night #1. Near Dominguez Butte. Steady wind all night.
Night #2: Near Friendship Cove. Perfect evening right next to the water.
Night #3: Mountain Sheep Canyon.
Night #4: Crazy windy all night…and then it rained. Tarp burrito action.
Night #5: After storms all day long, it ended up being a beautiful calm evening. No picture though.
Night #6. Took a while to find a good site, but oh…it was worth it.
Night #7. First site I came to after a loooong stretch of sheer cliffs.
Night #8. Best site of the trip. Perfect location.
Practical Matters
This was actually a fairly simple trip to pull together from a gear perspective. I had the kayak. I added a few bits of minicell foam just before the trip to protect my heels and knees and I’m glad I did. The best piece of new gear was a deck bag from Seattle Sports…but really anything on the market would probably work. It was sooooo nice to have water, food, maps, camera readily available. Hands down, the best gear was a decrepit old tarp we’d had around forever. Paired with some hiking poles and bits of string, I had shade in five minutes. Several nights I had protection from the wind. It served surprisingly well as protection from the thunderstorms and vicious winds that came along for the ride. I had food for fourteen days – just in case I got really adventurous. Our platypus gravity water filter provided all the water I needed. All the gear was stowed in eight different 10L dry bags. All told, I had just under 50 lbs of gear stored in the kayak, with room to spare.
Fourteen days of food – mostly home made backpacking type food.
All the gear. Eight dry bags, a bag chair and small table.
The awesome low-tech shade/wind shelter
Exploration
If you’ve never been to Lake Powell, it is hard to overstate its beauty. Just paddling the main channel all the way to Hall’s Crossing would be a worthy goal. I read somewhere however, that if you include all the side canyons, Lake Powell has something like 2,000 miles of shoreline. All along the main channel there are side canyons begging to be explored. I didn’t have the time or the energy to do them all, but I did sample a fair number of the side canyons I passed. All told, my exploration added about 35 miles of paddling to my trip. Here is a small sample.
Kyle and Marcie. The only people I talked to in nine days. They were on day one of their two week vacation.
Cathedral in the Desert. With no one around it was truly magical
As on a Colorado River trip, its not just about the water – it is also about the places you can get to from the water. I was able to take some amazing hikes and take in some incredible views as well. I did have to keep in mind that I was in a very remote place, with no people around. I didn’t get as adventurous as I might otherwise have…plus I carried a Garmin Mini with me at all times.
Hike above West Canyon
Small creek in Oak Canyon
Oak Canyon. The first thunderstorm to assault me…
Pueblo in Slickrock Canyon
Hike above last night’s camp.
Profound Moments
I had a great deal of time on this trip to just … ponder life. I had what for me were a few rather profound thoughts. Early on I had a hard time getting my head around the scale of the place. Lake Powell is MASSIVE! The whole first day, fifteen miles of paddling, I was able to see the butte where I eventually camped…for the WHOLE day. It never seemed to get any closer. In some stretches, you can see two, three, four miles ahead. That is an hour of paddling. I found that if I focused on the point four miles in the distance where the lake made a bend, I got frustrated that it was taking so long to get there…especially with a headwind. If I focused just on my surroundings, my paddle stroke, the color of the water, the sun reflecting off the ripples, the cliffs to my left and right, the clouds, the miles took care of themselves and the time passed pleasantly. Seemed like there might be a life lesson in there. If we’re always looking ahead and trying to get to the “next thing” we miss out on the beauty all around us.
The second thought occurred to me after my “Lt. Dan Moment” mentioned earlier. After four days of angry headwinds, followed by a parade of violent thunderstorms on my off day – I was getting pretty frustrated. After the last thunderstorm passed however, I was treated to a calm evening and beautiful sunset. I came to think of that moment of calm, and all those that followed over the next several days as “moments of grace.” The biblical definition of grace is an undeserved gift of God. I realized that I had expected beautiful calm weather for my trip. Without the storms, I probably would not have had the deep, profound sense of gratitude for the moments of calm when they came. I likely would have taken them for granted. Instead, whether I was paddling or spending time in camp, I was very aware of those calm moments. Again, that seemed like something I wanted to hang onto after the trip was over. The realization that headwinds and storms eventually pass, and the importance of appreciating the “moments of grace” when they occur.
A “moment of grace”
This was a special trip. Going solo, I think, made it a much more profoundly satisfying experience. Having said that, now that I’ve had “my” trip, I would love to do this again in the company of family and/or friends. If you have any questions, please feel free to reach out. In the meantime, seize the carp!
On a recent backpack trip in the Grand Canyon I learned that my fellow travelers happened also to be avid readers. Over the course of several days, we had a number of interesting discussions about favorite books and interesting stories, as well as suggestions for good reads. Following my normal sleep pattern, I had some extra time this morning to ponder other books that I had enjoyed, and in turn would recommend to others. Given the current climate of suggested isolation, I thought I might share some favorite titles that I’ve found especially enjoyable over the years.
The Sneetches and Other Stories by Dr. Seuss. This sly little story about Sneetches, as much as anything I learned in college or Sem, prepared me for work in the inner city of Milwaukee. The Pants with Nobody Inside Them taught me empathy. A must read for children and adults alike.
Desert Solitaire and the Monkey Wrench Gang by Edward Abbey. Not a huge fan of the Abbey himself, but in my formative years I connected with Doc and his desire to burn down billboards, and Ed’s admonitions to get out of cars and walk! or crawl in order to really see and experience wild places.
The Journals of Lewis and Clark.Down the Colorado: Diary of J. W. Powell’s First Trip. Nothing like the very words of the explorers themselves, who so casually spoke of most hardships as if they were just another day at the office.
The Conquest of Mt. McKinley by Belmore Brown. These early climber/explorers were hard men. What they went through to almost be the first to climb Denali makes modern climbers all seem like sissies. By the way – If I loaned you my copy, whoever you are, could I PLEASE have it back. I miss it!
Touching the Void by Joe Simpson. A harrowing tale with probably the highest pucker factor of any book I’ve ever read. And one of the few movies that is as good as the book. Talk about the will to live….wow!
A Most Hostile Mountain by Jonathan Waterman. The author/climber intersperses his own effort to climb Mt St Elias with historical details of the Duke of Abruzzi’s efforts to climb the same.
Shackleton by Alfred Lansing. My favorite adventure story – hands down! Shackleton’s failed expedition and subsequent survival story has been called the most successful failure of all time.
A Walk in the Woods by Bill Bryson. This was the first true “laugh out loud” book. Don’t watch the movie…please, just read this book if you haven’t already.
Apollo by Charles Murray and Catherine Bly Cox. When JFK challenged the nation to go the moon, none of the technology, systems, or procedures had even been envisioned, much less invented. This is the fascinating story of how it all came together.
The Sky Below by Scott Parazynksi. This is one astronaut’s story. Interesting to read about the joys, frustrations, egos, and hard work necessary to achieve space flight.
The Expanse series by James S. A. Corey. If you’re into space, the fictional world created by this talented writing duo (know by the pen name above) is a wonderful read.
Around the World by Bike by Alastair Humphreys. I loved Al’s observations and honesty, and thoroughly enjoyed going with him on his four year journey. Sharon enjoyed the story, but was not as big a fan.
Miles from Nowhere: A Round the World Bicycle Adventure by Barbara Savage. Back when Sharon and I were embarking on our own lengthy bicycle adventure, this book was massively inspirational.
Maiden Voyage by Tania Aebi. At age 16, without most of what might be considered “necessary” skills, Tania set off and sailed around the world by herself. Many years after her voyage I had the chance to meet Tania. Sure got me dreaming!
The Storied Life of A. J. Fikry by Gabrielle Zevin. I’ve read countless fiction novels. Enjoyed many/most of them tremendously. For some reason, this one always bubbles up to the top of any list I can think of. Makes me want to go buy a small bookstore.
I’ve told many people that one of the greatest gifts given to me by my mother was both the ability to read, as well as a love of reading. I consider there to be no greater luxury than a comfortable chair, a good book, and the time to read. This list is by no means exhaustive, but I hope somewhere in this list, you will find a book that inspires, amazes and broadens your horizons.
I very much look forward to hearing your suggestions for good reads as well. Please leave them in the comments section below.
…We need to talk. I’ve been attracted to you for as long as I can remember, but I’ve started to feel that what we have together is unhealthy. So often it seems that I’m doing all the work in our relationship. I feel you judging me for the extra pounds around my middle. Half the time we don’t even talk – you hardly let me get a word out. Then I start to think that the problems are my fault. You know the old cliche, “Its not you…its me.” Maybe you’re right. Maybe if I dropped a few pounds, passed on that extra beer or cup of ice cream we would get along better. But in the end, it seems that no matter what changes I make, or commit to make – you’re constant – you never change. It is frustrating. At the worst of times, you are a cold, heartless shrew.
Most definitely NOT on speaking terms with gravity Photo Credit: Joel Schenk
But then, I get to the top of some ridge or peak, and the pressure you’ve been putting on me lessens. It’s like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders, (and legs, and feet). I take the time to enjoy the view and the accomplishment, and just like that I’m ready to forgive you for all the suffering you put me through. As I head down a trail and fall back into your warm embrace, and enjoy the wind on my face, I remember why I love you. Time flies when you’re having fun, and as I fly down on my bike or skis, or lightly run down a trail – I’m having FUN! I find my voice again. I sing, and laugh and shout for joy. We’re an awesome couple! We make a perfect team! You’re my best friend. The thing is – this hate/love cycle just doesn’t seem healthy. I realize that any good relationship requires hard work. And I really do appreciate all you’ve done for me. We’ve had some great times over the years. But just once in a while – I wish you’d lighten up and give me a break! That doesn’t seem like that much to ask. Its not like there’s a law against that, is there?
I think we have something special, I just needed to get some things off my chest. I’m willing to keep working at our relationship. I hope you’ll continue to be there for me.
As a general rule, my goal is to avoid any place named “Hell”. This past week I made an exception. According to the USGS, some variation of the word “Hell” is affixed to 73 places in Arizona. After a good start, our winter has sputtered a bit. Since skiing conditions have suffered as a result, and for a change of pace, I decided to give the kayak some love. This time of year there are two obvious choices from Flag – Lakes Powell or Pleasant…both a two-ish hour drive. Whilst pondering my options, the thought occurred, why not combine time on the water with a trail run in a new area?
Some internet searching had turned up a little traveled trail leading to Governor’s Peak. This nondescript little peak is located in the northeast corner of the Hell’s Canyon Wilderness, located in the Hieroglyphic mountain range. Twenty years in Arizona and I had never heard of any of these places. That was definitely part of the attraction.
The trail…well…path to Governor’s peak
Amazing hiking through the saguaro cacti
Lake Pleasant to the southeast from the summit.
The descriptions were accurate. The trail was lightly used…and in many places was more of a suggestion of where a trail might go if one existed. Some well placed cairns were most helpful in leading to the summit. Probably the most surprising, and most welcome feature of the hike was the presence of flowing water. Water in the desert always seems such a gift. At several creek crossings I just sat and listened to the sound of trickling water, accompanied by the scores of birds also enjoying the streams.
For a trail run, as is often the case, there wasn’t much “running” involved – at least on the way up. Turns out there was a significant amount of “up” on this trail. Coming down, the trail was a bit more obvious and I was able to jog down most of the way. Love all the oxygen at lower elevations. Overall, a super pleasant way to spend a few hours.
Back at the car, I changed clothes, pulled out the bag chair, and enjoyed the view and a few snacks. Then it was off to the 2nd part of the day. The northern launch ramp at Lake Pleasant was just a few miles back down the road. Since there was a fairly brisk southerly breeze, I decided to head in that direction first.
From the comfort of bed earlier in the day, I had thought I’d spend three or four hours getting a real workout paddling around the lake. Yeah, well…plans change. Paddling into the wind for an hour seemed like enough of a workout, especially for muscles that seemed genuinely surprised to be swinging a paddle again. I poked around the Scorpion Bay marina checking out the sailboats and chatting with a couple in another kayak. I enjoyed a leisurely (with the wind) paddle back north – checking out some bays, coves and mules along the way.
I love winter. I love winter activities. I’m most definitely NOT ready for winter to be over. But what a treat to be able to enjoy a lovely ‘spring’ day for just the cost of a few hours driving.
69.6 degrees north latitude. That number likely means very little. Some context would probably be useful. The Arctic Circle is a line of latitude at 66.5 degrees north. During the summer months above the Arctic Circle, the sun never dips below the horizon. Many years ago I spent a fascinating summer working in Prudhoe Bay on the northern coast of Alaska. When I first arrived, the polar ice pack extending all the way to the North Pole, was still visible from shore. The latitude there was 70.2 degrees north.
Why does this matter, you may ask? And what’s the deal with 69.6 degrees north? If you were to enter those coordinates into Google Earth, you would be taken to a town called Tromsø. It is a town, about the size of Flagstaff, located in far northern Norway. It has the distinction of being the 3rd largest city north of the Arctic circle anywhere in the world (following Murmansk and Norilsk – because I’m sure you were wondering). While fascinating I’m sure, what really makes Tromsø stand out is that Sharon and I are now the proud owners of two – one way tickets to that fair city. Lord willing, on the evening of June 15th, Norwegian air will drop off two tired Americans, two bicycles and assorted camping gear at Langnes International Airport at 69.6 degrees north latitude. And thus will begin our Great Arctic Bike Adventure.
Our starting point.
Our faithful steeds waiting patiently to go out to play.
Getting to this point has been an interesting adventure. We’ve been talking about this trip for quite a while now. Initially we thought of starting in southern Europe in early April and following summer north. Then because of obligations here at home and some ultra cheap fares, we considered a June flight into London and spending some time wandering the UK before branching out. Ultimately, the desire to revisit Norway, especially this part of the country, the ease of camping, a good ticket price, and trip flow led us to choose our June visit to Tromsø . Our “no plan plan” is to spend a two weeks pedaling south, hopefully meeting up with some friends near Trondheim for a week -ish of exploration. Then we’ll wander south into Europe/UK and wherever the spirit leads. Fortunately we have old classmates, co-workers and friends we’ve made who live in Norway, the Netherlands, the UK, the Czech Republic and Germany. We’d love to see them, as well as get some local beta. The internet has offered up enough beautiful and interesting places to occupy several years of touring. Since we likely will spend around four months on the road, it will be interesting to see how the trip unfolds.
We have quite a bit to do before departure. There are several other adventures to enjoy first. The KB Gear sweatshop will be cranking out some new gear…which means the lone elf will be quite busy. Being gone for an extended period of time means lots of decisions and life details to sort out. Needless to say we’re quite excited and looking forward to the big adventure – and sharing it with you. Exactly how we’re going to do that is just one more detail to work out. All part of the fun.
Yeah…this is on our route south from Tromso. Jeg elsker Norge!
Update
Sharon and I know this look well. This was Oliver learning it was time to leave Florida. Sharon and I had pretty much the same look when this thing called COVID shut down our plans to bike tour Norway and Europe. We’re still hoping that our planning wasn’t in vain, and that we’ll be able to carry out this plan at some point in the future.
