| July 14 & 15, 2007 - Fairbanks, AK |
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I picked a good time to hold up since it has rained more yesterday and today than it has since I've been
in AK. I've noticed these sights seem to be common after thunderstorms here in Alaska:
I've had a chance to sort my gear, wash clothes, comb over the bike for issues, and put in some extended
miles on foot. I elected to stay at a hostel (“Billie's Backpacker's Hostel”) because I guessed it
would be a waypoint for other adventurers... and since attitudes and energy are contagious, what better
place to regroup than around other kindred folks! Well, my guess that this hostel would provide quite
the stimulating crowd was indeed accurate. Oh my goodness, have I met some serious adventurers whose
quests and journeys are simply amazing! One such man is “Frank” who was at the hostel preparing to
leave Fairbanks by plane bound for Oregon so he could hike part of the Pacific Coast Trail (PCT), which
runs from Mexico to Canada thru the western US states (CA, OR, WA). Late fifties and very, very soft
spoken, Frank related his upcoming plan, much like I'm discovering most of these intense adventurers do, as
if it wasn't any grand adventure at all. In fact, I think his reply to my observation of such was “It's
just a walk, really.”
Frank said he has a storage unit near the hostel that he uses as a launching pad for his AK journeys. He has
apparently hiked all over Alaska and in places so remote that they can really only be explained with a topographical
map or GPS waypoints (like the Brooks Range). Yeah, way out there! I watched Frank sort his gear while
listening to his list of previous hikes: He has hiked in several countries, and through-hiked (completed a trail
in one single hike, not sections at different times) the 3,100 mile Continental Divide Trail (“CDT”), the 2,670
miles of the Pacific Coast Trail (“PCT”), and the 2,160 mile Appalachian Trail (“AT”). Oh, and he's actually through
hiked the PCT twice and the AT three times!
Here's the hike (PCT) that he'll be doing:
I'll take this moment to address an oft-asked question that has hit my in-box since I arrived Alaska surrounding
the sun setting, or lack thereof. I'll preface this by saying I'm a night owl as well as someone who could
fall asleep under stadium lights; suffice to say, the extended hours of daylight are not the least bit disruptive
to me, and, in fact, I love it! I can completely set up camp and move about wherever without a
headlamp/flashlight. So, how light is it? Well, it's light enough that if someone wanted to read a book
they could do so. Granted, it's not the most optimal light but if you wanted to read, you definitely
could. Rather than try to simply explain this midnight sun thing, I'll offer a photo I took just after midnight
last night. The photo was taken without a flash and has not been edited in any way:
Some of you moto people will notice that the Strom is sleeping beside a friend. The friend's owner hails from
Switzerland, which is about the extent of my current understanding given a language barrier. There is an English
speaking Swiss climber staying that the hostel who will most likely be glad to translate later.
When I was parking the Strom in front of the hostel yesterday there were two guys hosing dirt and mud from their
bicycles in the driveway. Given they were on street bicycles (versus mountain bikes) I thought it was rather
odd to see such an enormous amount of mud since there really wasn't any road construction I had seen on the road
leading into Fairbanks. I can recall exactly where I was standing when the owner of one bike told me that
the mud had accumulated during their ride from Prudhoe Bay. Those who know where Prudhoe Bay, AK is located
and who are familiar with the gnarly conditions of the James Dalton Highway (AK-2) will understand why I was
absolutely and completely stunned.
I formally met “Matt” and “Scot” after my brain recovered from the unexpected jolt of information I was trying to
process about such an adventure. I probably should have uttered a simple, benign question next like “Do you know
the weather forecast?” to allow my brain extra recovery time, but instead, almost like a reflex, I asked them where
they were headed. I wasn't prepared for the answer and neither will anyone else: Ushuaia, Argentina. Yes, that'd
be the southernmost place in the world. So, they're going from the most northern part of North America (Prudhoe
Bay, AK) to the most southern part of South America (Ushuaia, Argentina). For a brief moment I'm sure my brain
fried because I was at a total loss for words... again for at least the third time in the same hour! Geez, I
assumed I'd meet some really interesting folks but WOW!
The most memorable aspects of my journey are almost always unplanned; no doubt this will be one of them having had
the great pleasure and honor in meeting Matt & Scot. As impressive as their quest is, I've found each of them
to be even more impressive after hanging out at the hostel with them yesterday and today. They both seem
absolutely relaxed and in the moment despite the fact they are a mere 12 days into a 500 day journey. Yes,
their goal is to complete the 16,000-18,000 mile ride in about 500 days. Just in case someone missed the minor
detail above I'm going to repeat that they are riding BICYCLES not motorcycles! Here's a photo of Scot (left)
and Matt (right):
For more information about Matt & Scot's ride go to their website:
http://www.panambikeride.com/
They can definitely add me to their cheering team!
AGirl
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I decided to hang out here in Fairbanks for a couple of days so I can regroup. I feel great, but
given the miles and plans I have in front of me, I believed it might be prudent to hold up. Besides,
I have basically been on the road since late April sans the week transitioning bikes and gear from the
Being around folks who are, er, seizing the journey, I've learned such replies are not flippant, rather they
are coming from a humbled soul who simply doesn't view their experiences as anything out of the ordinary. Yup,
birds of a feather fly together, which is another reason I am throughly enjoying this hostelling experience!
Not just a hiker, Frank peddled his bicycle a few years ago from Seattle to his home in Tennessee, where he resides
when not in Alaska or on some trail. Being a native and current part-time Volunteer State resident myself,
Frank and I instantly connected if for no other reason beyond our Southern accents and longing for a Waffle
House! WOO-HOO! Here's Frank with his pack loaded and heading for the airport:
The Dalton Hwy is also known as the "Haul Road" since it serves as the main supply route for the northernmost
oilfields. It's probably no surprise that vehicles on this road are the extra large tractor-trailers (38+ wheeler
variety), but what might be surprising is that these rigs can kick up enough dust that visibility can be reduced to
zero. Rental car companies prohibit driving the Dalton Highway if that says anything! The road is
considered the “end of the road” since one greets Prudhoe Bay and the Arctic Ocean upon arrival. Many in the
motorcycling community consider it a grand accomplishment to travel the most northern road in North America to Prudhoe
Bay and return with both motorcycle and body intact due to the challenging terrain, total lack of services, and road
surface. By the way, it's 500 miles from Fairbanks to Prudhoe Bay (one way) and the two cyclists who were in
front of me had just finished it.
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