Bike to Alaska

 Chapter 28: Five Days on a Bus This photo is from a previous bike trip I made in 1977, from Connecticut to Colorado, which also involved taking a bus to get home. As you can see, I used my spare time to write back then too. September 13, Saturday  0 bike miles, ~875 bus miles, to Dawson Creek  Berserk morning. It turned out that Dan Moore, who had given me Denise's number when we met on the Dempster, was back in town, so after Denise fed me a big breakfast, we went to see him. He came with us downtown, and we looked around for a Whitehorse T-shirt. We couldn't find one, so I just bought food for the bus ride, packed, and we went to the bus station. I learned that there was no way the bike would arrive with me if I shipped it by bus, and it was going to cost $30 anyway, so I called CP air, and found out I could ship it by air freight for the same price, and it would get there in two or three days. Denise and I zipped over to CP Air while Dan stood in line to buy...

 Chapter 27: Whitehorse September 9, Tuesday  83 miles (7886)   Today was awful - a real low point. I was unenthused about riding right from the start, and I was tired of pushing for the arbitrary goal of Whitehorse. I wasn't making good time to begin with, and then after Beaver Creek, I suddenly got a tremendous headwind. As if that weren't enough, I came to a stretch where they were watering the road. I had heard about this but couldn't believe it.   The tractor-trailer tank truck had clearly already made at least two passes before I got there, and it went by three more times , till the road was just mud. I was in total despair; a sunny day, and I had to ride in mud. I screamed curses at the wind and the water truck and the whole world until I was hoarse, and I decided that I would start hitching when I got to Koidern, the next town.   Somehow I kept pedaling though, and by the time I got to Koidern, the road was dry again, and the wind had even shif...

Apologies to my loyal readers; my 2025 adventures have interfered with writing about my 1980 adventures, so these last few chapters are a couple of months late! You may recall that when I last wrote, I was in Anchorage, wrestling with what to do: stay in Alaska, extend the bike trip to some other destination, or try to get home for two weddings of good friends. In the end, I decided on a combination of marathon biking and taking a bus, hoping to get back in time for the weddings.  Chapter 26: Farewell Alaska   September 4, 1980 Thursday  108 miles (7478)    A good day! I packed up, thanked Chris for everything, and left Anchorage at 10:30. Had a headwind for a while, but then had a good tailwind for perhaps a 50-mile stretch. I did 40 miles without a meal, and it only took two and a half hours, meaning that my average speed was 16 mph! Boy, that felt good - I was ready to ride all the way home! Of course, the wind inevitably switched 180 degrees, and it got pret...

 Chapter 24: Denali August 22, Friday: 60 miles (6912)  Nice weather, an uneventful ride, and some crazy trip magic. I went back to the post office in Fairbanks to check my mail one last time, though I knew I would get nothing. But that set me up to meet a couple of guys on a meal break later, who I was to meet again this evening, when their car broke down. And because of that, I ended up staying with them in a trapping lodge and having supper with them at a diner in Nenana, where I met two pilots who invited me to join them tomorrow on a flight to deliver fuel out into the bush! Oh, and I got my first glimpse of Denali this evening!   August 23, Saturday: 60 miles (6972) Got up at 5:30 to get to the pilot's house on time. Cold morning - heavy frost. The weather was "Severe clear with a chance of zero/zero in fog" as the pilots put it. (ceiling at zero feet, visibility zero) They were kidding about the zero/zero; it was a beautiful day! The plane...

 Chapter 23: The Urge for Going Dawson City to Fairbanks   August 13, Wednesday: 53 miles  (6512)  I was up, packed, and writing before Sally, Renee, or Theresa got up. After breakfast, I went down to say goodbye to Nancy and Marylou, but they were gone, so I left them a note. By the time I got back to the campsite, Shirley had returned, and the other three were gone. Shirley was very cold and distant, only saying that the other three had gone to the ferry. I didn't have it in me to try to talk it out with her to get to a better place, so I just wished her a good life, and went to catch the other three before they got on the ferry. We had a nice goodbye, and then I started up the 10-mile hill in the blazing sun and the clouds of dust. My heart was heavy with thoughts of home and friends and Laura. Several times I just started crying, for no specific reason, but just because I was so homesick and lonely.   My mind and spirit are in a complete shambles w...