Day 30

Did you REALLY read them all? oh.. good job then. *pats you on the back*

As I am a sucker for even numbers, and this being Day 30, I have to
conclude that this is the final episode in the Alaskan Trip as I have
arrived at my destination. Having learned from Craig that I do not have
a job at his company as they do not have enough work to employ me, I do
not have a job currently. Nevertheless, I see this day as a good
conclusion to the trip and the next phase of exploration can begin: the
quest for a career. Perhaps it will not be a long term career, perhaps
it will be a temporary job that finds me first, but whatever the
employment I fell quite confident that I will be able to perform
admirably at it's requirements.

Since this is the final day of the trip, it is a day of reflection.
Upon reflection, I should have figured out a way to do this type of epic
journey sooner, more often, and in the near future again as I highly
enjoyed it. There were things that would have made it better: a
companion to look at the maps and guides while driving, a second opinion
for more places to view, or a better idea of the truly worthwhile stops
to make. These among other things could have lead to a more fulfilling
experience, but I find things changes to be almost menial and
unchangeable given the circumstances of this trip.

On my epic journey to Alaska I found myself in little physical harm,
with good people and experiences found at nearly every turn. Which
leads me to ask simply:

Where will you go on your epic journey?

Edit1: All of my photos are now online... how's that for taking up space? You can see them here:
Alaska Journey
Alaska Journey - Part 2
Alaska Journey - Part 3

As always, if you see any photos you would like larger (or even the full version), simply click:
On the photo to see it larger,
Then on the "more info" words at the right.
Let me know the filename, and I'll send it to you... easy right? I hope so.

Day 29

Beginning?

Once again I was awoken to a damp morning, and once again my stomach
gave up without a true fight. Now, any amount of rest seemed to be
stripped away from me at the realization of the saturation of my
surroundings. However, it was not to be an entire loss as shortly after
arrival at the Visitors Center in Fairbanks, the clouds parted reveling
a quite warm glowing sphere in their place. This sudden change in the
environment led to a number of photographic events in the plentiful
flower gardens located around the statue of the unknown first family of
Alaska.

After my photographic desires were subsided, my quest for knowledge
returned and I found myself in the Aircraft Museum located in Pioneers
Park. From the outside the gold dome, which the photographic part of me
lost the battle to photograph, looked quite small, but upon entering the
museum the vastness and tightly packed display cases attested to the
completeness of the museum. A number of hours later, my desire to learn
subsiding, I walked around the park some more to find a Pioneer museum
and a display on the Aurora's, which peaked my interest. The lady
giving the presentation encouraged me to go the the University in town
and see another presentation on the Aurora's that would be quite the
opposite of the presentation found at Watson Lake a number of days ago.
This will have to be put onto the schedule and attended soon as I don't
want to forget about it, or have it pass without my attendance.

With no desire to spend another night in the rain, I called up Craig,
who's company I was trying to get a job through, and requested a place
to stay for the night. He was quite willing to loan the use of a room
in his recently acquired house to me and I spent the night quite dry.

Will it ever end? oh.. I guess so... To be... concluded.

Day 28

Beginning?

Awoken in a similar, but not so temperature impaired condition, I again
attempted to out sleep the precipitation, and again my stomach refused
the fight. Again the tent was hung to "dry" on the interior of my
vehicle and I parted ways with the Hope campgrounds. Feeling less
adventurous today, but still in the mood for site seeing, I arrived at
the Palmer Glacier and Visitor Center. This one, being located close to
Anchorage was quite disappointing. The theater expected me to part with
my funds, and the museum portion was either geared toward children or
the uneducated in it's attempts to convey, repeatedly, the process by
which glaciers form. Again global warming was a key element to the
"educational" process, but the history of the area was more than
lacking, unless you take into account the last ten thousand plus years.

Back in Anchorage now, I stopped in to see the Pastor and his family
again, then went to the local supermarket to relieve the symptoms of my
cold and purchase a few needed supplies.

Then it was a mad dash to Fairbanks. Not that this course of action was
intended, but my right foot took over and it insisted on it's ability to
complete the rest of the desired course in adequate time for the rest of
the body to get it's required amount of sleep. With a short side trip,
I arrived in Fairbanks at midnight, to the relief of my now quite
exhausted body. Having seen virtually none if the city, I found a
nearly full campground and pulled out my still damp tent to sleep away
the wants of the day.

It was a day of spectacular scenery, however much of it was left without
as much as a photograph as the vastness of the area could not be
adequately captured using my camera.

Day 28 Distance: 489, Elevation: 33 -> 2444

Continue?

Day 27

Beginning?

I was awoken by a soggy feeling. During the night the rain had pooled
on top of the tent and when it could hold no more it had drained
directly onto the blue tarp that was insulating the tent from the
ground. While it did half of it's job admirably, the rain coming at it
from the tent had also been insulated from reaching the porous ground
and had begun to float the tent. I, being inside the tent and on an
inflated cushion, became buoyant, and while quite comfortable it did not
insulate part of my sleeping bag, the clean clothes, and my pillow from
the moisturizing affects from below. Thus I awoke with a bit of a head
cold.

At this point, I still figured I could out sleep the rain, but several
hours later my stomach reminded me that my attempts were folly and I
arose in a most moist environment. To say that everything was wet does
not include the forty-seven degree ambient temperature that the water
had risen to while pooling beneath my abode. Add in the ten mile per
hour oceanic breeze and you now see that wet was not the only obstacle
to my morning routine.

Having no desire to spend any substantial amount of time fighting the
elements, I laid my tent inside my vehicle to "dry" and found fast food
breakfast, which had now become lunch, the much desired meal of the
moment. My masochistic tendencies were realized when I found myself
ordering iced cream with my meal and found myself eating on a park bench
on the hill overlooking town. Well, it should have been overlooking
town, but again the fog had covered any recognizable figure over a
hundred yards away in an ever changing pallet of white. At this point,
as all the other tourists scoffed at getting out in the damp air to see
nothing, I found myself in awe of the wonderfully changing dimension to
the quickly moving cloud that encompassed the top of the hill. With my
lunch nearly gone, the pallet that I had admired was soon dissipated
with the warming sun and even quicker the heat of the day had arrived.
While this heat was no more than a cool sixty degrees, I found myself
slightly annoyed that I was now forced to look upon a static scenery of
the bay and surrounding mountains. Or it was the fact that now the
tourists had returned to look at the static surroundings. Thusly I took
my leave of them and continued my northerly course leaving the sun and
warmth behind.

MaryLou would be proud as I found a little roadside shop to spend some
time in and actually parted with some funds in return for a souvenir.
The item, however, was no trinket or bracelet to be simply looked upon,
it was a useful item with a purpose. It was another knife. There may
be a simple pattern to the way funds leave my tight grasp. So far that
pattern has been knife shops and museums. No one ever said that a
pattern had to be logical.

The day concluded with a short five mile trip up a mountain bike trail.
Due to my recently acquired cold, and the severity of the course I was
not enthused about continuing farther, though I'm sure the lake and
falls would have been spectacular. The other bikers I talked to at the
trail head encouraged me to try the course again, but from the other end
of the trail as it was the more gravity aided course.

The twilight hours were spent trying to ignite some of the wood that had
received a portion of the moisture in Homer and with little success, and
a hefty fine if any embers were found alive if not in direct
observation, I drained a gallon of water upon what coals remained and
retired for the night.

Day 27 Distance: 166, Elevation: 7 -> 1339

Continue?

Day 26

Beginning?

Since I was camped on the Spit, I had to check out the rest of it and
figured the best way to do that was to simply ride my bike down the path
and see the sights. Since my schedule today was so booked, I
interrupted my leisurely pace with some photos of derelict vessels just
off the path.

This place truly was a bone yard of vessels. Some had large holes in
the decks, others in the keel. All in all, I don't think any of them
would be fit for sailing any time soon, but I did wonder how they moved
them so far from the water. Some questions just can't be answered so
easily as I didn't have a chance to ask anyone. For some reason I am
reminded just now much of a stranger I am to water and sea life.

After looking through a few shops and spending some time on the beach,
which was covered with smooth river rock, it was getting to be about
time for lunch and I started heading back to camp. On the way there was
a shop that had a sign for hoodies and since I still don't have a good
hoodie, I decided I should stop in and see if anything looked worth
purchasing. One of the shirts that made me laugh was: "Homer, a
drinking town with a fishing problem." The guy that ran the shop was a
fisherman by trade, but he enjoyed crabbing the most. We had a chat
about "Deadliest Catch" and he said one of his buddies was on that show,
but he always told his relatives that he was the guy in the orange coat.

Now it was more than time for lunch, and I was still quite a ways from
camp, so I broke down and ate at one of the burger places that happened
to be right next to the hoodie shop. It happened to have good food for
not an unreasonably high price, but still more than I would have liked
to pay, which is zero, but that doesn't happen very often.

That afternoon I made it to the Visitor Center in town, which was closed
when I came into town yesterday, and I have to say that it was one of
the best Visitor Center that I've ever been to. It was half museum,
half discovery center, half theater, and just a very small portion of
the center was sovineers. The museum portion of the center was
dedicated to the marine animal wildlife preserve. It was a little over
bearing on global warming stuff, but it did have good history of the
area from the first Russian explorers to settlements and statehood.

To end the day, I tried to get a hold of Liz again and found myself in a
coffee shop, loitering, and conversing with the locals, who were more
than willing to let me continue loitering. The attitude of the people
here certainly is different from the lower 48 states. I think Jon said
it best when referring to the attitude that his Grandfather had towards
people: "They're all friends I haven't met yet." or something
paraphrased like that.

Back at camp, I had just gotten a fire going when the rain started. I
was sure that it was going to put out my fire, but at this point there
wasn't much I could do to save it. When the rain finally subsided, my
fire did remain lit, but it took quite awhile to get to a warming
condition. Before too long it was time for bed, and the rain started up
again and continued through the night. Not ideal, but my sleeping bag
was quite warm even if I could see my breath in the moist air.

Continue?

Day 25

Beginning?

After perusing some more of the shops today (and purchasing a knife...
had too, it was calling my name) it was time to head out to Homer.
Unfortunately, most of the day was quite cloudy and things didn't
improve much when I arrived in Homer as the fog preceded my arrival. I
did get a quick look at the spit from on top of the hill, but it was
quickly obscured by the quickly rolling mist.

On the positive side, there was a nicely kept garden of flowers that was
worth taking a few photos of while waiting for the fog to dissipate.

Most of the rest of the day was spent trying to figure out where I was
going to spend the night. There was one possibility of staying with a
friend, but it turns out that she had a job across the inlet so we were
unable to meet up. As it happens, this turned out to be for the best as
I ended up camping next to a guy that works for BP up at Prudhoe Bay.
He takes the data that the NDT guys give him and makes the work orders
assigning how many people and how long the repairs should take. Sounds
like a good guy to know if I wanted to find a testing position. Oh
yeah... I do want to have a testing position.

The rest of the night was spent talking to him, and his new girlfriend
(they met on myspace... go figure) and them trying to put her two boys
and his little girl to bed and me eating the food that he kept telling
me I should eat, which I did. By the end of the night I received some
canned salmon, smoked salmon, halibut, and a couple of beers. And this
was all after I had already eaten my standard five eggs for supper.

I think considering all the food I devoured and the connections made
today that I'll have to put yet another day down as a good day.

Day 25: Didn't record GPS info... whoops... it was bound to happen one day.

Continue?

Day 23 & 24

Beginning...

I got up yesterday, and after trying to fix some things on this blog, I gave up. I guess this internet was just too slow for my liking and I ended up going to the Visitor Center to find out about biking and hiking trails in Alaska.

As it turned out they didn't know of any off hand, but I got a ton of paper to read through, which I probably won't do, but it's nice to have anyway.

The trip to Anchorage was very scenic. Unfortunately, most of the places to turn off the highway where not the best and most of the photos I wanted to take where ruined by bugs on my windshield. Oh well, you'll just have to see it for yourself sometime ;-).

After getting to Anchorage, I looked up the Pastor lives here (Grandma met his mom and that's how I knew to find him) and found out that it was probably his church that I would have done the VBS through all those years ago when I came to Alaska before. He was generous enough to let me crash at his place, so I did last night and I will tonight as well. Turns out he and one of his sons like to mountain bike and we went out tonight on one of the trails in town that they like to ride on.

While on the trail, we crossed a few streams on bridges and there were the first salmon heading up the streams to spawn. A little later we saw a yearling moose. This trail wasn't very technical as far as mountain bike trails go, but it wasn't a crushed gravel path either, and the sights were great to see.

While in town we hit a few of the stores to ask about mountain bike trails. I ended up buying '49 trails in the 49th state' mountain bike guide. It has maps and descriptions, so I'm hoping it's as good as the fifteen dollar price tag. I guess we'll find out tomorrow as I plan to use it while heading down to Homer.

Day 23 Distance: 321, Elevation: 52 -> 3379

Continue?

Day 22

Beginning you say?

I'm trying to remember the start of the day... I really am, but it's
just coming up as a blank. I remember going through Haynes Junction,
and thinking that I'm a lot closer to Alaska than I thought I was and I
just might make it there today.

Then the road started to go, as in it was in need of repair. For the
first time the road went from a rough 70 mph roadway, to a 'oh crap'
road at 50 mph. The frost heaved parts were marked, but they still
jumped up at you and made you just drive slower all the time, which
wasn't bad, but it makes a long drive longer.

When I was approaching the Alaska boarder, I thought I'd stop early and
hit the boarder in the morning, but for some reason my foot remained on
the gas and I drove on toward the boarder. After a quick calculation,
yep I'll have enough gas, it was a short thirteen miles from the
Canadian Customs to the US boarder... why so far? I don't know, and I
didn't feel it was the time to ask. The old fellow at the boarder seemed to be in the mood for a chat, but I could tell he was just looking for something that seemed out of place, or to get you to slip up on something, but he seemed so relaxed at it that at face value it was a normal conversation. Even so, I doubt he would have liked answering questions as opposed to simply asking them.

With nothing more to ask, he let me through. Total time at the boarder (minus the wait) about two minutes. Now in Alaska, my spirit soared. Then there was a break in the clouds and the sun started shining. Not only was the weather cooperating, but the roadway was now a true asphalt roadway, not the rock and oil resurfacing that Canada used, but a smooth blacktop. Yes, it still had some places where frost heaves had made the road quite rough, but in general the tire noise from the rocks was gone, which meant I could keep my earplugs out.

So, as it all goes I made it to Alaska. I'm in Tok and pleased to be
here. Now, I think I'll catch up on some eating and sleeping. After that, who knows?

Edit1: I haven't downloaded photos from the last couple days, but all the photos up to that point should be in the Alaska Journey - Part 2 folder. Enjoy.

Day 22 Distance: 584, Elevation: 1627 -> 3330

Continue?

Day 21

From the beginning.

A score days ago I left my quaint little state and proceeded along a rather meandering path that has led me to the southern areas of Yukon. Here I shall remain... for the next couple of days... Until the great Alaskan wilderness consumes me.

Lets see, today I saw a few caribou, a passel full of mountain goats, (forgot to mention a couple days ago that I almost got my arm taken off by a bald eagle) one large ram, a couple herds of bison (or are they buffalo?) and... you've waited for it... my first bear. However, I did not rush out to fight this bear, after all it was raining when I saw it. Oh, then there's the fact that it was a cub black bear. I mean, it wouldn't be fair for me to fight a cub black bear I have to give nature some kind of advantage, so I proceeded on my way.

On one of the CBC stations, really the only stations that come in up here it turns out, I heard part of a program that stated that the average person, man and woman, says roughly eighteen hundred words per day. Then the station faded out, so I didn't get to find out what the point of that tidbit was, however, that didn't stop me from thinking about it today and deciding that I doubt that I've spoken that many words in a week. Comparatively, I'm sure that I've typed that many as I had to do some mental math while I was driving, which is rather relaxing I have found. Generally I figure that I type roughly eighty words per minute, but since I'm not typing in the usual comfort of a nice chair and instead typing while inside my small tent, or cramped between the steering wheel and my keyboard, I'll give myself a math break and say that I can only type sixty words per minute. That would mean that if I type for a half hour that I have typed the required eighteen hundred words that I am alloted to speak per day. Now I have typed... less than 400 words. Something tells me I have a long way to go.

This wonderful train of thought was interrupted by my arrival at a little town called Watson Lake, which is the town that has all the sign posts... well... posted. Now, I knew that this was a large collection of signs, but I didn't realize that it covered about three acres of land with poles roughly twenty feet tall. One could spend all day looking at the signs, which I was not about to do. I snapped a few photos and then remembered that this was also the town with a planetarium, which I had to see for myself.

It just so happened to be right across the street from the sign posts and the show on the Aurora's was just about to begin. I purchased a ticket and started preparing my brain for all the data it was about to receive by running through as much of the information I could remember before the show started. Lets see, the Earth is 92.8 million miles from the sun, it has magnetic poles produced by an iron core with a rotating molten mass that protects us from solar and other forms of radiation, this magnetic field can be excited by ions ejected from the sun through Coronal Mass Ejections which can also play havoc on communications equipment, when the magnetic field receives a strong enough push from these ions it sparks a reaction at the poles which becomes the Auroras. OK, I think I'm ready to receive more information... begin movie.

The lights darken... the music begins... and we see... Animals? Wait, what? There were actually two presentations: one was on wild life of the Yukon (I'd already seen everything in the movie except a grizzly) and the other was on the Auroras. Fine, but at least talk about the wild life... No? I've learned more watching Animal Planet, and that's just in the second or two it takes to flip past it when channel surfing.

Ok, finally, let the Aurora's presentation is beginning. More music... lots of the same Aurora with different backgrounds... Oh that one's diff-no... no it's just a different background. Now that one is green instead of red. Here's one that's kinda blue with yellow tips. Me thinks I've been had. Of the twenty minuet presentation, I think there were about five minutes of actual dialog, and about half of that was telling you to buy some movie in the lobby. After the presentations were over I had a chance to talk to the guy in charge, well in charge tonight anyway. He said that they used to have a presentation that was science heavy, but their main audience, the retired folks traveling in their RV's, couldn't relate to it and absolutely despised the show, so they dumbed it down and just have pretty pictures now so they have fewer complaints.

But I think I did learn something today, even though it didn't come directly from the show: Don't do stuff that old people are inclined to do. If they dumb down a simple presentation on the Aurora's, the must dumb down lots of other information in these touristy places, which probably explains why I've started avoiding the "Information Center" type places, they really aren't much help.

Tonight I've found another campsite just off the main highway. I haven't decided when to get up tomorrow, but as it's now ten at night and looks like it's about seven in the afternoon, I can tell it's going to be difficult to get some shuteye.

Day 21 Distance: 453, Elevation: 994 -> 4285

More.

Day 20

Where did I come from?

Oh, I forgot to mention yesterday that I found a campsite next to a babbling brook. Or rather, a raging river. Iether way I found myself singing "My Generation" by The Who all night and the stutters in the song matched when there was a bigger splash from the ripples hitting the bank. Strange you say? Well, all I know is I slept very well last night. I did wake up with the sun for a bit, but just long enough to look at my watch, declare quarter till six too early and soon I was singing to the river again, but I think my song sounded more like sawing logs.

When I arose from my slumber, it was about nine in the morning, a good time to get up and start the day. Not long after I put away all my tent supplies I remembered seeing showers in the lavatory and felt that since I was still covered in yesterday's (and the day before's) filth, that a shower was in order today.

Just before departing to the shower, with supplies in hand, some locals (I assume locals, they were speaking Canuck) stopped by while gathering wood and asked about my bike. One of them thought the rack was a fancy electric motor and wondered how it worked. I explained it was a bike rack after I figured out what he was asking and upon closer inspection the old timer agreed that it wouldn't make a very good motor after all. I think he had just seen one in a local store and his mind jumped back to that when he saw the orange mounts for my bike rack. We then had a good laugh about how skinny the seats on bikes were and I was off to my shower.

In the lavatory there were these curious boxes that stated "This box takes only one dollar coins." I figured I would see if the water worked without spending my dollar coin and reached for the handle. Sure enough, ice water poured out at a ferocious rate. As I'm not even to the Yukon yet, I decided that being so close to civilization, I'd spend my dollar coin in return for some warm water.

Now fully lathered, I started wondering how long the timer on the little box would last. This was the wrong thing to wonder as it must have been telepity and it clicked off and the ice water began again.

I had my uncivilized shower after all.

Feeling quite refreshed, and I emphasize the refreshed part, I took to the road. Shortly after three in the afternoon I arrived at Dawson Creek and after eating some lunch found the milepost marker and had my picture taken. I feel kinda silly for driving thirty miles out of the way to get a picture at a monument like that, but it looks like it was the place to be as I counted six large campers and about twice as many vehicles in the time frame I was at the monument.

About halfway through the day, I was planning on arriving in Fort Nelson and looking around a bit before camping on the other side of the city, but after nearly five hundred miles today, and being quite sore from my bikeride yesterday, I am now reclining in my tent less than fifty miles from Fort Nelson and I plan on seeing the city in the morning sunlight. I think this is the first time on the trip that I have arrived at a campsite before ten at night. It was eight when I drove into the campsite, and after eating supper and setting everything up, it's only nine-thirty and I'm tuckered. I think my body is still recovering from the bike ride yesterday.

Tomorrow should be another big day of driving, but I'm already starting to see a change in the landscape. The trees used to be quite tall and lush. Now the Black Elms (I think that's what they are... black somethings) are small and not nearly as lush. I expect much more change throughout the day tomorrow.

Day 20 Distance: 449, Elevation: 1358 -> 3799

Next.

Day 19

What? There was more?

After my bike ride, I jumped into my vehicle and hit the road. I continued down Canadian Highway 99 and I have to say that this is some serious country. There were several waterfalls that you never even saw until they flashed passed on the passenger side of the vehicle and more than a few were tall enough that I couldn't see the top from inside the vehicle. What's unfortunate though is that most of the road is quite narrow and stopping to take a closer look at the falls would have been extremely dangerous. So instead, many of the sights of the day stay with me.

Most of the day I was having trouble with the speed limits here. Once I got onto Highway 97 the speed limit was 100km/hour. However, most people seemed to travel at nearly 20km/hour more than that. Well, I don't want to hold up traffic now do I?

I'm looking to get up early tomorrow and get a few miles (km?) under me so that I can take my time once I get up to Dawson and the Alcan Highway. I'm expecting a few delays once that leg of the journey begins, so I'd like to make up as much of it now as I can.

Day 19 Distance: 394, Elevation: 656 -> 4206

Continue?

MTB - Pemberton

Do I really need to say it?

The sun woke me up today at quarter till six in the morning. Since I didn't figure the bike shop would be open this early, I rolled over and went back to sleep for a few hours. I finally rose about nine in the morning and on my way out, that helpful lady was there again. Of course I had to talk to her again, and I got the distinct feeling, from all the 'dude' and the rocker symbol she flashed me as I drove up, that she was one of those neo-hippies. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but my stereotype of the youth of Canada was a little bit off. Anyway, she was awesome. From her directions I drive right to the bike shop and looked around for a bit and then asked about the trails.

The guy that told me about the trails got me to buy a map from him for over $12 after tax. I was less than enthused with paying that kind of cash for a map, but since part of the trails are on private grounds, and sales of things like this map goes to that cause, I guess I can look at it like a park fee and then it wasn't as bad.

The trail recommended to me was Happy which was rated as a medium trail. For those of you that know the rock section at Platte River State park, almost the entire trail was just like that. Well, the rocks weren't quite as sharp, but it was that steep and completely rocky. To say I did well at the course is an over statement, in fact there were several sections that I just couldn't find a place to get back onto my pedals to continue the course, so I had a little hike mixed in with my bike in tow.

The biggest problem with walking, however, was the fact that you could scarcely see where you were walking for all the mosquitoes. If I thought the mosquitoes were bad last night, they were almost unbearable in the shadows of this forest. So after a few recovery steps, I forced myself back onto the bike to plod along up the trail. This was a great way to get in shape though, if you take it easy and walk, you get drained of your blood, otherwise you work hard staying just ahead of the mosquito herd.

After riding up several steep climbs, and walking a few others, I quickly referred to the map to make sure I was going the correct direction, and it seemed I'd made a wrong turn. No time to look at that now, the herd caught me. After I rounded another corner I saw in front of me what looked to be a wall. Now I knew I had made a wrong turn and headed back to the trail I wanted to be on. I had stumbled upon a black trail when I wanted to stick to the blue trails. Now back on track, this trail seemed like a breeze and I soon found myself at the lake, aptly named Mosquito Lake.

There were a few other bikers here, and after talking to them for a little bit, one of them recommended a black trail down to the parking lot. I thought I knew where the trail head was to it and could get to the actual black from a couple different blue routes. I must not have found the correct entrance because it was quickly apparent that I was on another black route. Meaning I did more hiking than I did biking, this time I didn't have much of a choice, I just had to wade through the herd.

Finally, time for the downhill. The black trail started out as a blue and I was moving quite quickly down the trail with little difficulty. Oh sure, it was more technical than most of the trail at Platte River, but only because of the rocks. Then came the black trail. I'm proud to say that I only had to walk down two parts of this trail. One was a huge granite slab with a steep drop off on one side, so I decided I wanted to keep the tire side down. The second I could have ridden through, but the trees in equilateral triangle fashion were just marginally farther apart than my handle bars, and given the speed I would have had going through them, my knuckles thank me for walking through this section.

When I arrived at my vehicle, I checked my watch for the first time since leaving and found that three hours had passed. Except for maybe a half hour at the lake, the entire rest of the time was spent biking, or hiking up hills. What's even more amazing is that my GPS says I went over seven miles. That makes this the farthest, and hardest that I've ever biked before, and I feel like it currently... I'm beat. I feel like it's time for a nap, or just drive about 400 miles to Prince George.

MTB Distance: 7.62. Elevation: 669 -> 1932

Continue with Day 19.

Day 18

Do not continue... start over.

Round two... Fight!

Called Canada... who would have guessed that after a holiday they had so many calls that I was on hold for almost fifteen minutes while breafast got soggy in front of me. Finally got through and transfered to BC where the lady sounded shocked that my Short Term Autorization to Transport for Non-Resident had been in there offices for a month and I hadn't heard anything yet. So I got to talk to the voice mail again. At least now I can eat breakfast, but I still have no idea if I'll be able to get into Canada today. At the very least I might have to ship my firearm back to my folks so they can ship it back to me in Alaska. Not ideal at all.

So, it's wait on Canada day, which is almost a national holiday, but at least they will call back, it just takes them some time.

I flip around the tube for awhile, never much on in the mornings, but just as I'm getting into a program, my phone vibrates off the table onto the couch. Lucky for me it wasn't the floor. Who left that thing on vibrate anyway? It's Canada, supposedly the lady on the other side of the speaker called me sometime (she didn't have a date written down) that some of my information needed clarified. Basically the "Temporary" part of the license means at most five days. Now I know, good thing it's written somewhere on all the paperwork I've filled out. As soon as I say that five days is fine I've got a new message in my inbox that says I'm go for traveling northerly.

After lunch, I packed up, said goodbye to Dee and Wally, and expected a large delay at the boarder. Not only because it's the day between Canada Day, and Independence Day, but because of the horror stories I've heard about Restricted Firearm transportation. When I arrive at the boarder there's a line of a few cars, but not as bad as I expected. Before the customs agent can ask if I have anything to declare I tell him what I'm declaring, and he just about rolled his eyes at me. I didn't have to tell you guy, but thems the laws.

After the standard, how long, what are you bringing, can I tax anything you have in your vehicle questions, he directs me to the staging area with the other agents inspecting other people that have been pulled to the side.

Almost immediately I'm asked to exit the vehicle. I don't see any of the other drivers doing the same ahead of me, this could get interesting. More of the same "Can I tax you questions." and a "Where and what state is your firearm currently in." question. Of course I've followed your transportation requirements and my firearm is double locked in the rear of my vehicle. Now we go inside the building, which thankfully is air conditioned. This part of the country is supposed to have a record high today or tomorrow of 88 degrees. It's July, and not triple digits, I'm so confused, but at the same time elated. Quicker than I expected, he calls me over and I sign the paperwork I brought with me as he fills out the bottom of the form and I'm sent right over to the casher to pay the $25 Canadian fee for registering a Restricted firearm. Then I'm on my way. Total time at customs, less than thirty minutes. I'm almost disappointed as I didn't get any "chill" time, but I don't mind that much and hit the road.

On to Vancouver. Wow, the streets are so narrow here I wonder how *ding ding* and a bicyclist zips down between cars. Now this city I like. There is a bike lane, but it must only be a suggestion. The other thing that caught my eye were all the people in full out punk gear and plus ten inch mow hawks. I expected this kind of scene in Seattle, which there was some, but not this dramatic. I couldn't get a picture of any of the punks because traffic was ridiculous. Even traveling at sub-twenty-five miles per hour I have to be careful not to hit any other cars or people. Just when I've given up trying to get anymore photos for awhile I see a problem developing ahead of me. This van, that looks quite touristy to me, opens it's side door and out jumps a middle aged Asian woman. I have nowhere to go and the guy riding my bumper isn't backing off with the bright read lights in his lap. Next thing I know her elbow or purse, I don't know which, smacks my drivers side mirror and almost collapses all the way in on itself. Now, I know that Asians can scowl, but the look I got when I glanced back in my mirror was one of pure contempt. Good thing traffic is moving through this part of town, I'm outa here.

If Vancouver was neat, Whistler was amazing. These two cities will be hosting the 2010 Olympic games, but they aren't very close together. I think the sign said 111km on highway 99 as I left Vancouver.

What made Whistler so amazing was the outdoor activities: skiing, boarding, skating, biking, hiking, 4x4's, rafting, the list went on and on. Then I saw the most amazing thing ever: A group of girls riding bikes with suspension front and rear in full out body armour and full face helmets. I about rear ended the car in front of me, I couldn't stop staring.

If I was out classed in Moab, I wasn't even in the same league here. There was a whole section just on the edge of town set up with huge dirt jumps, lifts that were for downhillers and so many bike shops and tour companies with trainers that it put small countries to shame. Most of the bikes I saw had absolutely enormous disk brakes and seven inches of travel front and rear. I poped into a bike shop just to see what some of these bikes where bringing here. One of the Specialized bikes was mildly priced at over $2000. Yes, it may be Canadian dollars, but I still choked on my soda a little bit.

I looked around for awhile, but this town was way too much for me. When I get good I can come back, but right now the gash in my leg is beating pretty soundly reminding me that I should look into some body armour and a new bike before I even consider the trails that are on the maps.

Driving down the road a few miles, I find a campground and as I pull into it, the ranger lady is on her way out. She lets me pay with USD (I was brilliant and drive right past the currency exchange when I left customs... I'll go ahead and say I was so distracted by the lack of time I spent that I forgot all about exchanging money) and then she noticed the bike on the back of my vehicle. As the mosquitoes dive bombed us I told her how I chickened out on trying any of the trails back at Whistler as I'm not good enough, and she suggested a bike shop in the next town where she knows the guys will be more than willing to find me an easier trail to tryout. I think she knew, perhaps out of experience, just how out of control Whistler can be.

So, for now, I think I'll get some rest and see how extreme the easier trails are around here.

Day 18 Distance: 261, Elevation: 0 -> 2303

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Day 17

What did I miss?

Today, July the 2nd, Monday... Had to verify some paperwork to make sure I could get into Canada easily with my pistol, so I got up early... well, not that early, 8:30ish, called Canada... Closed... something about Canada Day. I guess I'm stuck in the Seattle area for another day. What to do, what to do. I guess I could go to Mt. Rainer, I haven't been there yet.

The original plan was to find a short trail, walk around a bit, and drive around the entire park. We all know how well plans work, so as soon as I heard that Glacial Basin Trail had been washed out by obscene amounts of water (yes, it does appear to be about the same time frame as Glacial National Forest's washout) that knocked over trees, strewn boulders all over the place, and generally wrecked the trail so it had to be marked temporarily with yellow caution tape to follow, well, I just had to see it for myself.

The trail was originally about 3.1 miles long, but given the destruction and the new windy path it was by far the hardest and best trail I've ever hiked. For about three hundred feet you walk over a huge boulder pile right where the trail used to exist. Soon, you're dodging large trees that fell across the path. Before long you're almost ankle deep wading across streams left over from the washouts that come from somewhere above and crash down to the temporary path in little waterfalls.

The visitor center lady told me she hiked this trail, in it's current condition, in about an hour and a half, one way. With all the waterfalls and distruction to document, I found it pressing to get there under two and a half hours. I can't wait to look at those photos closer, but I'm guessing that you couldn't take a bad picture of that hike. Every few steps it seemed there was another waterfall, another boulder pile, or another flower patch that needed it's digital duplicate made.

After getting down in just under an hour and a half, my feet, legs, back... well, I was tuckered, and rather than continue around the park, I just drove back to Dee & Wally's place for the night and recounted my excersion to them. That wasn't a trail I'd suggest to most people to take, but for me, that was a good day.

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Day 16

What? I missed something?

I got up before most of the campsite here at Lewis and Clark State park, which is roughly one hundred miles from Seattle, so I could get into town before too much of the Sunday crowd could clog the streets of downtown.

Unfortunately parking was not nearly as simple as I would have hoped. I ended up just parking in a parking garage, which was probably the best choice because then my car was off the street. Since most of the towns have been good about bicyclist and bike lanes I thought about taking my bike with me to explore the cityscape, but decided that I was probably going to spend most of my time at the markets, or in museums so it would just be a hassle to keep track of while I was doing my thing elsewhere.

After parking my car, I took the elevator up to street level, brought out my GPS, and placed a point called "CAR", figuring I'd just wander aimlessly and see what I could see. This turned out to be a brilliant move. Soon I found myself down by the docks and the water ways for a really good look to the west. After enjoying the view, it was time to find these famous markets. I'm still not sure if I did more following people, or reading signs, both of which were leading directly to the markets.

Now, if I were my sister, there would never have been a need to go anywhere else in the city. There were little stores selling this, that, and the other thing you really don't need but think you do right now. Good thing nothing here is labeled "free" or else I might have spent more than a half hour walking through there. I did see the fish throwers, but after standing a corner, well, not so much of a corner as waiting for people to move out of the way as I think everyone was hoping to see a flying fish, and seeing none, flying fish that is, everyone in the area seemed to concluded that no one was buying fish and the crowds started to move gain.

Ok, enough of the shops and things, time to go learn stuff... where's the museums around here? Time to pull out the GPS. It says walk a mile that-a-way... deal. Funny, the Space Needle is getting really close now. Hey look the Science Fiction Museum is basically right underneath the space needle... who'd have guessed it. The museum also happens to be attached to the Experience Music Project and for $15 you can go through both of them. But, I may not ever get back to the Space Needle and I kinda wanted to go up there too... ick, $16 just to ride the elevator the 520 feet to the top... I'm going to the museum.

What a cool museum. Not only do they have lots of Blade Runner costumes, Dune gear, Battlestar Galactica costumes (then new ones even!), a Tron costume, a Mercury astronaut's suit, Darth Vader helmet, mask, cloak and light saber, but get this, they even mix in lots of history of Science Fiction and history of world events at the time this or that book or scientific discovery was made. Of all the movie gear that was there (and there was a lot) there was only one movie that I hadn't seen and didn't know anything about: The Fountain (2006). One of the screens had a preview of the movie running, and all I have to say is: How did I never watch that movie? That preview was sweet!

After going through that museum, I'm going to have to read more books. They had original prints of Ray Bradbury, Arthur C. Clark, Isaac Asimov, and many, many others including some original manuscripts and oh so many sketches and models built for movies and television shows. Of course it had large sections of Star Trek and Star Wars stuff, but I was mostly impressed how large the collection was on Dune and Blade Runner. They had the police car from Blade Runner, and all the major actor and actress costumes and weapons. Except for the backdrops, I think you could film the movie tomorrow using just the stuff they had in the museum. Dune wasn't any worse off. I'm not as familiar with that movie, but they had all the weapons to be sure. Even some that I had trouble placing at first glance. It was almost enough to make me want to go read Frank's books... almost.

After I made it through the Science Fiction Museum, I still had to go through the Experience Music Project, but as I'd spent almost four hours going through the museum, I basically breezed through the music section in a little more than an hour and a half. There was a large section dedicated to Jimmy Hendrix, and Disney that where quite detailed. True to form, they had many relics as well. The history of the electric guitar went way over my head as they had actual amps, guitars and basses from the 20s and 30s up to present time. And since it is in Seattle, they had another section dedicated to the history of the Seattle music scene.

As much as they tried to make it look like there was still a large music scene in Seattle after grunge, I was having trouble buying it. Their best example was the Presidents of the United States of America, which disbanded sometime in the late 90s, hardly recent. They did have a wall full of seemingly current light pole ads for local bands playing concerts around the area as one of the posters I recognized from a pole I walked by on the way from the markets, but I didn't ever find out for sure.

One neat area of the experience was a section that tried to teach you how to play the piano, drums, and guitar. Using colored lights and music you could pickup the instrument and attempt to learn to play it in a game like fashion. This was the section of the building that seemed to be pushed the hardest from what I remember reading on the internet when it was being built, and it seems like they pulled it off in a fairly user friendly fashion. While I didn't feel like jumping on and trying out the equipment, just standing back and watching some kids that obviously had no musical experience, I found that they could put a few notes together that sounded eerily like a song, if they didn't get impatient and just rattle on the keyboard. Who knows, it might be the kick start some of them needed to get lessons and learn an instrument for real.

The architecture of the building was just plain bazaar. I found the music area to be hard to follow, disjointed and illogical. To make myself seem even more Spock-like, I found the Sci-Fi area to be easy to follow even if slightly disjointed, and very progressive in it's setup from section to section. Maybe that's the creative vs intellectual sides battling each other, but I know where I felt more at home. And from the fact that there were very few movie clips and characters that I didn't instantly know going back to the 60s made me feel I'd made the correct choice on spending so much time browsing through the artifacts collected in the Sci-Fi museum.

All said and done, I'd go there again, and if you get the chance I highly recommend it.

Day 16 Distance: 116, Elevation: 0 -> 462

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