Tag: cycle touring

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Adventure Bicycle Travel

The beginnings of Alaska and thoughts on motivation

Just thinking out loud about motivation and scribbling it down whilst sat on the ferry, back in the USA’s 49th state. At the moment I’m making my way up to a port near Anchorage (just below Denali National Park), on the Alaska Marine Highway. A journey north into the heart of the land of the midnight sun.

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It’s a pretty indirect journey spread over two weeks of travel. I set off from Prince Rupert last week, the ferry then pulled into Wrangell, where I’ve spent the last four days battling the mosquitos. Now it’s a 3 hour journey to Petersburg, then Juneau, and finally Whittier in 10 days time, which marks the next section of the route – the longest one of all – from Alaska across Canada. It’s odd how such seemingly meaningless corners on an map can have such personal meanings.

Looking out from the railings is a thrilling sight. In between small towns, signs of human activity is non-existent, it’s just shimmering green water and dense forest as far as you can see. I’ve yet to see them, but there’s orcas in the drink and grizzlies amongst the trees. It’s an inspiring place to just look upon, reflect on the last several months, and look to the near-future knowing that this is the land that so many adventurous tales have been set in, and it’s clear to see why.

Motivation. When I was nearing the end of the East coast leg, and then again on the Southern states leg, on the hard days, knowing that I’d cycled the whole way meant it was easy to overcome any motivational struggles, because there was a rationale that went something like, ‘Well you’ve come this far, what’s another few days / miles / state lines?’. But on the West Coast leg, taking the bus ride from Northern California to Seattle was like an instant break, and I didn’t feel as attached to it.

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I’m still totally focused on making this a project about the people along the way, and stopping in certain places when it seems right. Otherwise there’s little difference between rocking the exercise bike whilst typing ‘road sign’ into Google. Alaska is one of the places I’ve been most excited about all along, so I’m definitely going to spend time to soak it in, and have a few plans that if they come off will make for interesting and unusual experiences.

But, I know that everything will seem disconnected if the final stretch isn’t done by human power. That may seem a bit ridiculous, and that it really shouldn’t matter, even a contradiction when there’s been writing about constant movement being tough, but there’s a snowball effect attached to de-motivation and it’s something I’m keen to avoid on the biggest stretch of all. Just showing up, getting on with it, and creating a flow does a lot for your psyche, but when that synthesis breaks your motivation can soon follow.

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People keep talking about the prairies in Canada, and how tough they are mentally, even when driving across them. There’s stories of people looking at a mountain in the distance and just driving for days without it getting any bigger. Driving, and being driven crazy by the endless and beautiful-at-first-but-soon-monotonous surroundings. Another cyclist I met in BC couldn’t hack it and jumped on a bus to ‘end the torture inside his head.’ Strong words that can drum up dread in anyone’s moments of insecurity or self-doubt.

There’ll surely be mind-games. You can take your ‘days in a car’ and convert it to ‘weeks on a bike’. But nothing with worth comes easily does it?

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Adventure Bicycle Travel

196 – 212: Prince George to New Hazelton, BC

Customs. There hasn’t been a trip-post for a while, as a lot more time than expected was spent in the city of Prince George chasing up a new set of wheels through customs. It was nice to settle for a while, and explore the city, but a few days would have been plenty. By the end of a two week(!) stint in PG, I was getting frustrated. Several days were spent taking shelter in this doorway, which was an unusual but functional base. And there were obvious upsides to an extended period of static time – mainly a solid amount of work was done, but by the end I was absolutely ready to move on.

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But maybe these are all just soured memories, as Prince George was the place that has caused the most physical pain so far. It wasn’t in some kind of epic crash, or brake failure, or in fact anything bike-related. As it turns out, walking face first into an air conditioner just really hurts and will leave a lump on your head for days.

It was the afternoon of day 206 when the wheels finally showed up. Being a fairly critical part of the project, I was over the moon to see they’d arrived, and ran to a bike shop to get them to swap over the cassette, making the bike a working item once again.

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Outside the bikeshop, I met local resident and all around top dude Erik (on the bike below), who in the last couple of years had racked up some serious cycling experience, taking 6 week trips in Yukon and Alaska. He’s got a big plan taking shape right now that involves taking an extended leave from his job as a prison guard, to cycle across Canada, West to East, meeting with long lost family in various cities along the way.

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Erik had some hilarious stories from his cycling in remote places, offered a place to crash in his basement (no more doorway!), and made it clear that he was the CEO of the BBQ, when he grilled up some stellar steaks. It was a great way to end a long spell in BC’s northern capital.

The morning of day 207. After the last couple of weeks, my motivation for cycling was at an all time high. It was a cracking day, the bike was working like a dream, and I was gunning for it. Standing up and pushing down on the climbs, face to the handlebars on the downhills. They don’t come much better than this.

CRUNCH. Are you serious?

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Crunch. 70km, and now I’d somehow managed to rip the rear derailleur out of the hanger, bending and de-threading the hanger in the process. If you’re thinking I might have been frustrated by this, then you’re totally right. Fuming. Luckily there was a spare hanger kicking about (they’re unique to each frame so it’s a good idea to carry a spare – often bike shops have to order them in), but on closer inspection of the derailleur it was knackered and completely out of shape. I ended up hitchhiking 30km west to a campsite in the town of Vanderhoof.

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The next day, the folks at Omineca saved the day. They had the right derailleur in stock, and were cool about letting me use their workshop and expertise to get the bike into a decent condition. The aim was: this has to stop happening. This service, right now, is going to fix the bike for the foreseeable. Luckily it has so far.

The day of the service, there wasn’t much progress made, but since then it’s been a great phase of being on the road. Motivation for progress is high, and I’m back in the swing of things. There’s been some horrendous headwinds, incredible downhills, uphill slogs, jaw-dropping landscapes of snowy mountain peaks, and loads of ‘Beware of Moose’ signs. I’ve been frantically looking around excitedly but am yet to see any. Hopefully in due course.

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The route for the last few days has been: Prince George – Vanderhoof – Fraser Lake – Burns Lake – Smithers – New Hazelton (where this is being written). From here it’s West to Prince Rupert (Canada likes the royal names huh?), and then it gets super exciting. All going well, the plan is to get a boat into the depths of Alaska and continue from there.

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Adventure Bicycle Travel

184 – 195: One Hundred Mile House to Prince George, BC

Leaving One Hundred Mile House was wet – really wet. There hasn’t been any significant rain for weeks, so in many ways it provided a forgotten type of riding and one where you are more ‘in it’ – getting blasted by the elements is good at that. It was a fast ride over to Williams Lake, in the spray of passing trucks, being mostly flat and ever-so-slightly downhill.

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This trip has a way of teaching you stuff fast. Back in California, I thought I’d learnt the hard way never to sleep near sprinklers again. So how I ended up getting absolutely drenched by sprinklers in Williams Lake and having the coldest, dampest and overall most miserable nights sleep so far, was confusing, hard to take and more than a little frustrating. The moment was captured in video-form, so at some point you’ll get to see how ‘effin far those things can reach. Maybe twice is a charm, and the same mistake won’t be made again, or perhaps hidden sprinklers that rise out of the grass will continue to be a nemesis until the end.

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Williams Lake to Quesnel was a challenge. Purely because of the previous nights sleep. It’s not often you’re woken up with a dog headbutting the sleeping bag. Tell you what, that’s a bit of a fright. Everything was soaking wet and it was freezing, and it was inevitably a slow, unenthusiastic start to the day. Hot drink please. After some liquid warmth the rest of the day went OK, as soon as the sun decided to show it was actually really warm, funny how that works. Ended up in Quesnel where the Billy Barker Casino & Hotel provided a room, which was incredible after last night. Out like a light.

Leaving Quesnel was a bit intimidating. I half expected Will Smith, Jeff Goldblum and Bill Pullman to show up. Seeing this on display and knowing that the route to Prince George was through it wasn’t that appealing.

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It unsurprisingly started to pour down and there were some super sketchy drivers on the roads cutting it really fine. The rain eased for a while, maybe an hour or so, and then the mother of all dark clouds showed up. All of a sudden it became really dark, there was an instant drop in temperature, and the first car to appear out of the cloud had its fog lights and wipers on. You can imagine what happened next – there’s a rain theme. It wasn’t pleasant but didn’t last too long before getting in to Prince George, the capital of Northern BC. I arrived late not knowing what was what, so shout out to City Centre Inn for their hospitality on the first night in town.

I’ve been using the cycling-equivalent of Couchsurfing, called Warmshowers, which can be really useful especially in built up areas, and was invited to crash at the house of PG locals, Barb and Les, who have been amazingly kind with their hospitality and amazing home-cooked dinners. It wasn’t long before Les mentioned he was into fishing, which is something that’s been on the Vague Direction list since the earliest iteration of the project, so when he mentioned there was an opportunity to go out on his boat, it was an instant yes. Here’s a snippet video of an afternoon fishing with the man himself.

(If you’re reading this in your email browser, click here to watch the video)

I’ve been in Prince George for a while now, and with more days to wait it will end up being the longest stint of stillness on the entire trip. The bike is currently rocking a rear wheel that’s about as round as a square, has several loose spokes and a snapped derailleur, so I’m waiting for a new wheelset to arrive from pals over at Velocity which’ll arrive next week. Being able to ride without the near-hourly issues that my current wheel has been providing is a happy thought to say the least. There’s been yet more good natured and generous people in town, a good example being Les and Barb, who are letting me stay in their camper van until the wheel shows up. So in the meantime, whilst staying in PG, there’s time to explore, tick off some to-do’s, and try hard to avoid the thousands of caterpillars that dangle from the trees in Prince George – what’s that about, any locals know?

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There’s a weird constant battle on a project like this. It has a destination, and a time limit, so whilst constant movement is sometimes frustrating, it’s also necessary. But I heard this saying from a fellow cyclist the other day – “Smiles, not miles”. Cheeseball as that is, there’s something in it.

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Adventure Bicycle Travel Interviews Philosophy

Vague Direction People: Ruben Fleischer [video]

Ruben Fleischer is the director of Gangster Squad, 30 Minutes Or Less & Zombieland. We met up back in California to chat carving a path, demolishing barriers to entry, and coping with the struggle. And cycling too.

“The one talent I think I have more than anything else is persistence. I just won’t give up. So when I was trying to be a director, I put myself 35 thousand dollars in debt, but I was determined that it was going to work out. I wasn’t going to stop until I figured it out. It just was unfathomable.”

Meeting Ruben was something I’d been looking forward to, partly because I dig his work, but also because he questioned the traditional path and carved a unique route to get to where he wanted to be. It takes guts, determination and a belief in what you’re doing to commit so much, financially and otherwise, in chasing where you think you should be, especially when at the time it was such an untested path.

“I used to dub my reel onto VHS, and send it to production companies, and it was expensive to make the tapes, to buy the tapes, to send them to the companies, so I just started putting videos on my website, and this was before Youtube, so I would just host them all. And then I also had a news site on my website, which was kind of like an early blog type thing, where I would, in HTML, type the date and write stuff like ‘this is what I did today’ and ‘this video just fell through’. Just trying to figure out how to make it as a director.”

Here’s just a very quick and rough snippet of the interview – there’s more footage to come later down the line. Maybe even footage of a controlled explosion. (Click here to watch the video if you’re reading this in your email browser).

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Thanks to homie Samira for her camera handiwork on this one.

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Adventure Bicycle Travel

Day 176 – 183: Vancouver to One Hundred Mile House, BC

177: Vancouver to Squamish

Back on the road again, back into the swing of things. Pretty simple ride out of the city, with well-planned roads and cycle tracks where possible. Vancouver’s a cycle-friendly city for sure. A few hours of riding put me at the top of the Squamish valley, where there were subtle indicators of what was to come. Perfect roadside swimming lakes, with a glimpse of granite on the not-so-distant horizon. A five minute ride from there, around a corner, and there it was. The Chief. The rock climbing mecca, and for good reason. This place is on the same level as Yosemite in California only quieter, it’s spectacular. Huge granite walls, 700 metres high, towering overhead as you look up in awe, wondering how on earth such a thing can exist.

Sorry you lost me there for a minute. I ended up at a campsite, after visiting Shannon Falls – the third highest waterfall in BC which is quite-a-sight, which made a nice change from the stealth camping that had been the only method for days and days now.

178: Squamish to Whistler

It’s tough leaving a place like Squamish, knowing that you haven’t scratched the surface at all. Being constantly on-the-move is one of the toughest parts of this whole project, and was something that, in all honestly, I didn’t expect to be a problem at all. That was wrong. There have been similar moments on the journey, of leaving a place that you could happily stay in. That momentum can be draining, not having a base and fleetingly passing through. It’s something that I struggle with a lot, but at the same time the journey is a big part of this trip, as is the mental challenges that it brings, so I’ve tried to adjust my framing to think more like – “This place is awesome, so I’ll come back at some point and explore properly”. Squamish is right up there. It’s leading the way on top of the come-back-to-list.

The ride was just awesome, I set off late (as in 7pm late) after bouldering about a bit and generally hanging out in Squamish, and the road just got more and more impressive. The mountains were in full view, still with a bunch of snow on top, there were the first ‘Bear’ signs, all in all this was the first time for a while where it’s felt like it’s getting really adventurous. Ended up at the campsite in Whistler, after snapping yet another spoke on the journey (but with a landscape like this it’s easy to forget about), which had some in-situ bear nets to hang your food in. A sign of what was to come.

179: Whistler to Pemberton

Hunted around all morning for a bike shop who had the right size spokes – I’d run out of spares because of multiple recent replacements. Apparently a touring wheel is an awkward size, and most bike shops in Whistler just stock mountain biking parts, which are the wrong size. I was getting concerned, as there was only one shop left. Maybe there just wasn’t going to be any spokes in town and I’d have to either wait or ride with a super weak, and quickly-wobbly wheel. But there was still one last shop to try – Bike Co – and as fate would have it they had loads. I wasn’t going to risk getting caught out again so took 16 spares off their hands. Overkill? Maybe. The wheel got fixed and there was an all-downhill cruise to Pemberton. I was getting a drink and a couple of policemen walked into the same place. They were really cool, and when they weren’t chatting about their skydiving and bungee jumping exploits, they had a lot of advice. Official advice too, like the fact that you can camp anywhere in BC as long as it’s not private land. What that means is, even if your camping just off the road, it’s legal and there’s no need to worry at all as long as it’s public land. That’s a massive relief and removes a lot of the nightly stress in choosing an appropriate place. Turns out one of the policemen, Steve, is a keen cyclist and XC motorbiker, and offered up a couch in his basement to crash on. Happy days – shelter!

180: Pemberton to Lillouet

There have been times on this trip that people have advised, and warned about something that’s imminent. But never to quite the same degree as this morning. I couldn’t escape the constant warnings about ‘the hill’. This ominous, intimidating climb that by the sounds of it would be a teeth-chattering scare fest.

Because the project’s been on-the-go for a while now, I feel fairly confident with hill climbs. Being warned of ‘the hill’ has actually happened in a few places and you quickly learn that there’s just no point even thinking about it. It is what it is. There’s only one way to get up a big climb and that’s to pedal until you get up it. So this wasn’t a worry. What was a worry, however, was the alarmist warnings and rumours about what was lurking at the top of the climb. Animals – big ones. I’ve spent a lot of time reading guidelines, advice, and strategies in dealing with North American animals, but with sentences like these from Pemberton locals suddenly that research seemed not worthy. For a moment it was as though Jurassic Park had just opened on top of ‘the hill’, and the people of Pemberton were happy to provide a voice of doom.

“When you get to the top, be really careful of the moose. They’re really aggressive. My grandad once got chased by a moose and hid up a tree. The moose waited at the bottom of the tree for 2 days before getting bored. My grandad said he’d never been hungrier.”

“Look out for cougars up there. They’ve been known to climb trees and jump out on humans.”

“The bears are really hungry at the moment. Make sure you don’t surprise them.”

“I hope you’re carrying a pistol just in case.”

Here’s a video about the scaremongering on the day of the climb. (Click here to view video if you’re reading this in your email browser)

There were some big animals up there. I bumped into loads of deer, and a couple of bears, one big and one small. In fact, whilst cycling downhill, I didn’t see the big bear until the last minute. Luckily it dived into the bushes rather than into the path of a blundering Brit on a bike. The smaller bear was hanging out by the side of the road, and we were really close at one point which was, at the time, a small part amazing, but mainly bloody terrifying because the mother was nowhere to be seen. It doesn’t take much reading up on bears to know that being in between a cub and a mother is the worst possible scenario, so my heart was pumping like never before, and my eyes were scanning the area like a lunatic in search of a bigger bear. It was nowhere to be seen, so eventually I slowly walked around the cub. It was a terrifying but in hindsight an altogether incredible experience being one-on-one with such a switched on and intelligent animal. But any closer than that would be quite a different proposition. Roar. Here’s a really crap photo – in the moment, taking a photo was the last thing on my mind, so it’s taken from a fair distance away and looks like one of those UFO hoax conveniently-pixelated images.

 

181: Lillouet to Marble Canyon

So lethargic. Late start and absolute snails pace after ‘the hill’. Made a bit of progress and was happy to keep moving, albeit unenthusiastically and slowly, but when I was riding past the awesome Pavilion lake, the enticing blue water, and saw a sign saying ‘Camping: 6km’, the decision was made.

182: Marble Canyon to One Hundred Mile House

It’s been really hot for the last few days, perfect weather for swimming, so to wake up just feet away from a magnificently-clear lake brimming with fish and surrounded by huge cliffs was a wonderful sight. Who knew such blue water could be so bitterly cold? Locations like that are going to be more frequent for a while now, so I’m excited to experiment with some fishing line and a hook. Maybe fish will be on the menu at some point – it could be a fun learning curve and interesting experiment. I haven’t got a clue how to catch fish, or how to prepare them, but anything to spice up the trailmix bars and noodles has to be a good thing right?

As for the day’s ride, it was going well, and wasn’t too hilly. Less forest than before, it was a ride through agricultural plateau’s mainly. It was all going so well until that now-familiar *PING* sound, another spoke snapped. Drive side this time too, which makes things a bit more frustrating. It’s about time that this problem gets fixed for good.

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Thanks to Ramada for providing a room in One Hundred Mile House after a long stint of mainly roughing it!

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Rough map:

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Adventure Bicycle Travel

Day 164 – 175: Fortuna, CA – Seattle, WA – Vancouver, BC.

The final section of California riding ended in Eureka, which is where the mayhem ensued. Not got long to write this so it’s more like a photo timeline.

For the last few weeks there’s been a looming whisper attached to the journey – the Canadian border. Much more time was spent in California than first anticipated so the project was way behind track for a while, and crossing in to Canada would make all visa concerns vanish. Ah.

It means I’ve skipped cycling through Oregon entirely, and most of Washington state too. I don’t mind jumping ahead too much though, as there’s new plans in momentum that will provide much more of an adventure than the original route. So anyway, the looming deadline. The start of May means being in Canada. It just wasn’t going to be possible by cycling. After some googling, the most suitable option from Eureka was the bus. Not just one bus though. It went: Eureka, CA – Oakland, CA – Sacramento, CA – Portland, OR – Seattle, WA. That should have raised alarm bells. And it took an entire millennium (not 100% accurate but that’s how it seemed).

It was a truly awful bus journey – in hindsight I’d have tried hitchhiking instead, or crawling for that matter. Putting a bike on the bus shouldn’t be that complicated – but for whatever reason (Jeremy Jobsworth’s who enjoy making life difficult) the ‘policy’ is a nightmare for bikes, and maybe it was just a bad stroke of luck, but the staff at the terminals were the worst people to deal with. Probably ever, but certainly on this trip.

Anyway after jumping through the most absurd hoops, getting in to a ‘heated discussion’ with a staff member at Sacramento who proclaimed that he ‘ain’t gonna pull no fucking dollars out of his ass’, dismantling the bike, shoddily boxing it up, and sitting down for a 32 hour bus ride, we pulled in to Seattle. And at that exact moment I vowed never to ride the Greyhound ever again. Is that a vent? Because just writing that down felt great.

On a more positive note, Seattle was brilliant. I stayed on Emily and John’s couch for a couple of nights, who live up in the Wallingford area (they also make High Above Designs bags). It was quite a novelty to be able to leave the bike and explore the city on feet, free of the heavy weight for a while and without burden. Also, there’s a neat bike shop called Recycled Cycles who did a stellar job  servicing the stead.

Numerous people in Seattle suggested avoiding the mainly-urban mainland route up into Canada, and taking the ferry-hopping San Juan Islands route instead. It was great advice. From Seattle it was a quick hop over to Bainbridge Island and an amazing bivvy overlooking the downtown Seattle skyline.

The ferry hopping and island riding was in some jaw dropping areas. Hopping a couple of states means that the geography has changed significantly, and now it’s very much a snow-topped and serious-looking mountain landscape. It’s the first indication of the  remote nature that’s to come over the next couple of months.

After several ferries and some awesome riding, I boarded the ferry which would mark the end of the US section of the trip (for now). Getting on at Friday Harbor on San Juan Island, and docking in Sidney, BC a couple of hours later. I always find border crossings a little intimidating, until that wonderful stamp hits the passport and puts ink on the page. Welcome to Canada, eh! And breathe.

I hung out in Sidney (which is on Vancouver Island, a bit north of Victoria) for a few hours and got the last boat from there to Vancouver proper. Although where it actually drops you off is actually 40 miles from Vancouver. Damn. Maybe being in a new country acted as a catalyst, but at the stealth camp (behind a concrete bollard by the highway – luxurious) this morning I had a sort out of gear and all the unnecessary weight that has accumulated in the pannier bags over the last couple of months. There was loads, so I sent a package to a buddies house back in California, and holy smokes the bike felt great. It was lighter than ever before, and it had just been serviced. It was the best the bike has felt for months. And then two spokes snapped. Of course they did. Is that sods law? Luckily they were both non-drive side so were easy to replace on the fly.

I was lacing the new spokes in a park when a red pickup truck pulled over. It was a local couple from Richmond, Gary and Wendy. “You know you can’t cycle under that tunnel, right? You need to go back to the service station. Bikes are put on a shuttle through the tunnel.”

Several people have mentioned Canadian friendliness and generosity, but I didn’t think it’d happen so fast. Gary and Wendy ended up acting as the shuttle, we piled the bike in to the back, and drove over to their house where I could finish fixing the wheel, do laundry, take a shower, have some lunch, and all that good stuff. The first full day in Canada and the rumors are true.

It’s all go from here. A new section of the adventure begins now, it’s getting wild and that’s super exciting. Eh.

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Adventure Bicycle Travel Interviews Philosophy

Vague Direction People: Bradford Haith [video]

6.45am. Stinson Beach State Park.

Brad is originally from Boston, and as a teenager sold drugs, until he was caught. On the day he was released from the jail that he’d spent the last 10 years in, he had a couple of options. Do something that would land him back inside – like punching someone, or choose a different path away from the place he’d now become comfortable. He chose to literally walk away. He’s been walking for the last 13 years.

“After 10 years, I had 60 dollars and one piece of paper. They dropped me off, right downtown Boston. Thousands of people, I didn’t understand what, who. I was taken care of for 10 years. I didn’t know how to live. I was scared and nervous, because I didn’t know how to react around these people. So, I seen a crossing guard, across the street. And I said, well, if I go and hit this guy, I can go right back home. But inside, my emotions in side me said no, just give it some time.”

Here’s a short film made in collaboration with Brad. Hope you take something away from it and share it with anyone who may be interested.

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Adventure Bicycle Travel

Day 121 – 127: Encinitas to Los Angeles, CA

For the last week, I’ve been focusing more on the lifestyle aspect of the project and capturing material, rather than ‘truckin on and watching the signs go by. Some planned stuff was related to specific days in LA, so it’s been fun taking it easy, and taking it all in with that in mind.

The last post was written from Encinitas, where I spent a couple of super rough nights stealth bivvying. For some reason it felt really tense and on edge for both nights, so sleep was pretty minimal, but the ocean does wonders to wake you up after a rubbish night.

Then from there:

Day 121: Encinitas to Oceanside, CA (15 miles)

This section of coastline is amazing. I don’t know why, but cycling through forest and even desert becomes very ‘samey’ after a few days, but the ocean just doesn’t lose it’s charm. Weird. Nice ride on friendly roads, totally flat through Carlsbad and into Oceanside. Pulled into the beach at Oceanside as the sun was dropping, and there was a bunch of people out surfing just off the harbour. Being able to walk out along the harbour wall meant you were parallel to the waves, so there was plenty of photo opportunities and it was a unique and way better location when compared to the standard looking-out-from-the-beach.

Stealth bivvy once again, but this one was quite different. It was at the marina on a raised bit of grass, pretty hidden but with a bizarre buzzing noise next to a fence. You could alter the noise with your hands – which sounds weird and is tricky to explain – but by waving your hands you could make a tune. After a while the buzzing stopped and making music wouldn’t work anymore, so a guess is that the fence was electric and got turned off.

Day 122: Oceanside to Dana Point, CA (30 miles)

Sea mist is damp isn’t it? Woke up to a visibility of about 20 metres, a dense wet fog soaking everything in sight, adding to the overall grogginess that life on wheels inherently provides. There was also a really strange noise close by, which ended up being couple of very loud seals hanging out and playing games in the marina much to the audiences appreciation. Those things are WELL LOUD!

Onwards through Pendleton Marine Corps Base, which is the route that avoids the interstate and is pinch-yourself reminiscent of a real life The Expendables. You’re cycling through and suddenly there’s 20 soldiers on exercise walking out of the bushes with camo paint and huge machine guns, hummers flying past to get somewhere urgently, and Black Hawn helicopters overhead. An ace days riding which eventually lead to camping at the Doheny State Beach campsite in an ants nest (again).

Day 123: Dana Point to Sunset Beach, CA (30 miles)

Looking on the map, today would involve going through super affluent areas in Orange County. Often this makes everything tricky. Sometimes security is abound, there’s stuffiness in spades, and it’s like a oversized Range Rover slalom. But there’s also generosity, and in this case a waitress from RJ’s cafe, who epitomises awesome. Finishing breakfast and finding that the bill’s been unexpectedly set as ‘Birthday Meal – Free’? Priceless. (For some reason this blog entry is full of puns.) It was a random act of kindness that put a smile on my face all day, so thanks Marina!

After that it was a quick and easy ride over some rolling hills to Laguna Beach, which provided a close call with, yep, a Range Rover pulling out and a driver who looked far too young to drive. I was pretty keen to make speedy progress from then on so pedalled on through Newport and Huntington Beach, ending up at Sunset Beach, where I spent the next full day prepping for the following days and chatting to Jack from Maine, who was bitten by a Brown Recluse Spider and was hospitalised for a week as they tried to reduce the swelling on his face. Damn.

Day 125: Sunset Beach to Pasadena, CA (38 miles)

Laguna Beach had been busy traffic-wise, but it was nothing compared to Los Angeles, in particular the stretch from Long Beach to Monterey Park. By ‘eck, it’s certainly a driving city and they don’t make it easy for cycling. Stop and start at traffic lights, in and out of buses, keep your wits about you and move your eyes like a madman. What was quite weird was that happened for a good twenty or so miles, and then just stopped. That’s the grid nature of the LA street plan at play I suppose. From then on it was quiet suburbia, and there were even some really nice cycle lanes.

Day 126: Pasadena, CA

Had an amazing day on the set of a new pilot with Ruben Fleischer, director of films such as Gangster Squad and Zombieland (plus some killer shorts), and loads of other talented folks. There’ll be more on this in future posts, but it was a great day with great people. Ruben’s testament to the fact that paths are changing, in large part due to the web – and you don’t need to follow the route that has classically been instilled in us. Moving away from a metaphor, what I mean is he didn’t go to film school. He started making stuff, working his way up from the bottom and was damn persistent. It’s a lesson that anyone can apply to anything. It worked, clearly, because now he directs films with some chap named Gosling in them. I was keen to explore his route and his battles with ‘the struggle’, and his response was super inspiring and took him back to the early days. Here’s a very brief transcript before I get chance to sit down and edit the content from the day.:

“When I was struggling, and I was so stressed and freaking out, and I felt like I was just muscling everything through, everything was through the force of will, and nothing was given to me, I had to fight for every single thing. I was broke and I was, like, just bummed and frustrated, and so ambitious, but it doesn’t happen overnight. So many people that were more veteran than me, were just like ‘Dude, just cherish these moments, because it’s never going to be like this again, and you’re doing cool shit, just appreciate everything that you’re doing in the moment, because whether you make it or not, you’re doing it. You’re trying, you’re having fun, you’re making stuff that you believe in. Cherish it, and try not to get so caught up on the future, and just appreciate the present.’ And that’s a really hard thing to say when you’re so focused on the destination, but it was great advice and I probably didn’t take it. At all. But now looking back, I look back on those times of finding it, and the struggle, so fondly.”

Day 127: Pasadena, CA

Still buzzing from yesterday, today was spent sorting out the next couple of days. To sum up it basically involved coffee and typing (hardly makes for exciting writing). Stayed with the wonderful, and amazingly hospitable Tracy and Arthur in the Pasadena suburbs. They’re avid cyclists and had a lot of stories to tell: from The Great Divide to Japan – their bikes have taken them to loads of places, and there’s loads more on the list. They cook a mean dinner too!

The next two days will be more LA, and then on Wednesday the journey begins to pick up pace once more. How do you cycle again?

Categories
Adventure Bicycle Travel

Day 99 – 105: Silver City, NM to Tempe, AZ

Day 99: Silver City to Buckhorn, NM (37 miles)

Quick morning picking up supplies at a supermarket in Silver City. And then ridiculously slow progress. Passed a sign that read “Continental Divide, Elev 6230 feet”. Should have been amended to “P.S. get ready for absurd gradients”. It was hard to get anywhere due to a powerful headwind and the sheer steepness of the immediate roads outside of the city. Incredibly slow, walking pace for a while, until finally the last hour provided some respite from the wind and less horrific climbing.

Ended up in Buckhorn, which, perhaps influenced by the local gas stop and getting chased by dogs, had an eerie feel that nodded to bare feet, whiskey and shotguns. Most likely it was just farmland at night.

Day 100: Buckhorn, NM to Safford, AZ (78 miles)

Steepest day so far, absolutely brutal climbing through Gila and Apache National Forests. But the great thing is that after 4 hours of painfully slow climbing, there wasn’t any more ‘up’ in sight. Instead, blazingly fast downhills that zig zagged down the hillside. Tight 180 hairpins, steep sides, amazing fun and the first relatively technical riding section. Be careful not to ride of the edge of the road, that would really suck.

It was so fast, and the adrenaline was pumping, until a point of dread pulling into the town of Three Way, which is essentially a single shack. Eyeing up the road into the distance, it clearly zig zagged up what can only be described as a flipping-huge-mountain. Turned out to be not so bad, maybe a couple of hours climbing, but again, it was worth it whilst speeding down for miles into a Safford rest stop.

As a hint to this weeks lifestyle, I’ve been doing a lot of cooking and discovered a magic ingredient: Pineapple Philadelphia. You can basically add it to anything for a decent meal.

Day 101: Safford to Ft Thomas, AZ (22 miles)

The day was cut pretty short, after the looming clouds made it clear (and various people suggested) a snow storm was coming. One positive was meeting a fellow cyclist going the other way. Jeff is a super cool guy taking a bit of time off to ride from CA to FL, and he’s keeping an active blog here. Soon after this by-chance encounter, there was a rest stop with a shelter 20 miles outside of Safford and called it a day. Good place to hide from the approaching rain.

Day 102: Ft Thomas to Globe, AZ (56 miles)

A quick 10 miles to a traditional reservation called Bylas, conveniently, just as the downpour began for the day. The reality of the day was a lot of time spent working on content in the reservation’s Laundry-mart, but I also spoke to a mother-of-three who’s family had been based on the reservation for generations. She was sad that her kids, whilst they are taught the traditional ways at home, don’t learn their heritage at school anymore, so she believes their generation is the one where the past becomes truly left behind.

After a while of weather avoidance, it occurred to me that there’s no reason to stick around in an area where there wasn’t much going on. So a quick switch to water-preparedness. Drybags, rain coat, cover up the saddle, dig out the gloves. What followed was horrific. A crazy snow storm going from San Carlos over the pass to Globe. “It’s the first time it’s snowed here in 6 years”. And it wasn’t a little bit. It was covered, and really dumping the white stuff. But it was great fun. Cold, yep, but easy to get into a cold rhythm on the deserted roads. A blizzard photo:

Unusual weather conversations always lead to rare phrases, in this case an overheard phone conversation based on a nearby town name.

“My buddy’s stuck in the snow on Top Of The World”. 

Day 103: Globe to Mesa, AZ (60 miles)

Met up with HoYoung again in Globe. It’s a different mentality cycling with another person who’s going the same way – easier to be motivated to cycle. The morning went well, some quick climbing out of Globe lead to incredible top speed downhills into Superior, immersed in the most incredible steep sandstone canyon landscapes. And then, sticking to the common cycle touring tradition of ‘it never goes smoothly’, HoYoung got a flat. Which started what will be remembered forever as ‘HoYoung’s problematic day™’.

A flat tyre isn’t usually much of a momentum-killer, they usually only take a few minutes to fix and then it’s good to go. Not in this case: A really thick wire all the way through the tyre, and through both sides of the tube. 5 (5!) repair patches later, plus a lot of glue, and the tube was still knackered. With no spare inner tube (I also had no spare) there wasn’t much HoYoung could do, so he managed to flag down a pickup and got a lift into Mesa, to Gerri and Bill’s house (below), whilst I rode the rest of the way to join them a few hours later.

Bill got in touch through the site a few weeks ago and offered a place to crash on the way through. Him and his wife Gerri were great company. Both avid cyclists with thousands of touring miles racked up – they know their stuff. Surprising to find out they lived on a resort with a swimming pool and a bunch of other good stuff. The polar opposite of tent life.

Day 104: Mesa to Tempe, AZ (22 miles)

Short ride today, but a good one nonetheless. We left Bill and Gerri’s this morning after meeting the cycling club they’re part of. Gotta be nearly 30 members of the community who ride 3 times a week. The ride was nothing complicated, very flat. The greater Phoenix area is super clean, with a lot of green space, and best of all loads of fruit trees. Oranges and grapefruits mainly. So many that people give them away for free in baskets.

HoYoung’s making some California-bound progress, whilst I’m enrolled in a webinar that’s happening over the next two days, so after pulling into Tempe, a quick search lead to a coffee shop with WiFi in the university area. To sum up the proceeding few hours – comfy sofas and screen-gazing. Left a few hours later to find a flat front tyre. Good’o.

Day 105: Tempe, AZ

Finished the seminar and compiling this blog. Nice to have an explore on the metro (Transport without pedalling?!), Tempe is a super nice university part of the greater Phoenix area, super vibrant. Got lost and was pointed in the right direction by Charlie, a college footballer at ASU who’s potentially a month away from being signed to the NFL. Good luck!

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Knowing that California is relatively close (<400m), day 106 onwards will be a bit of an experiment. The mileage up to now has been consistently inconsistent, so it’s an attempt to try some consecutive big days. We’ll see how that goes, but maybe putting the strategy up here will be a form of motivation.

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Another weekly update – they’ll become more regular again upon reaching California. During the time when the blog is a weekly thing, there is quick content (photo’s etc) being posted to the Facebook Page, if you’re into that kind of thing.

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Map of this week’s progress:

Categories
Adventure Bicycle Travel

Day 92 – 98: El Paso, TX to Silver City, NM

Not the most miles this time around, but New Mexico has been super interesting, especially the latter half of the week. Scroll down to watch this weeks video, it was a lot of fun to make.

Day 92: El Paso.

Following on from the previous post, spent the day exploring El Paso, which is an awesomely colourful town. Weirdly I haven’t had any issues with knee trouble at all whilst on the bike, but today was the first day where, off the bike, there was a bit of a niggle. Stretch stretch stretch.

Day 93: El Paso to Keystone Heritage Park (17 miles)

The bike was not in a good way this morning. Slow puncture on the back, proper puncture on the front. Urgh. It took so many hours of faff and walking around the El Paso industrial suburbs, that by the time it was fixed, it was already 4pm, so it didn’t end up being a particularly productive day. More like one of those days where you scream profanities and curse the bike (in your mind and under your breath). Stealth camp on the outskirts of El Paso in a Botanical Garden Car Park.

Day 94: Keystone Heritage Park to Vado, New Mexico (20 miles)

A lot of reading and not a lot of cycling today. Short bursts if anything. But not to worry, because – New Mexico! Let’s have some of that state line corny goodness.

Crossed the line at Anthony, NM in the evening, which felt quite exotic compared to most other places so far, as Spanish was the most prominent language used by the locals. After a quick stop in town, I ended up riding out on the 470 towards Las Cruces and camped on a road side dirt mound. Gone are the days of being ‘stealthy’. In New Mexico (and even towards the end of Texas) you aren’t really given much choice. Flat ground that’ll take pegs isn’t in abundance, so you get what you’re given.

Day 95: Vado to Hatch, via Las Cruces (56 miles)*

First time waking up to frozen water bottles. New Mexico is quite bizarre in that it’s freezing at night, and blisteringly hot during the day. Two very different extremes. State laws are also markers of change. In New Mexico’s case? Bin bags by the side of the road. Loads of them.

Through Las Cruces, where I bumped into a 78 year old retiree named Ron, who’s done a lot of climbing in his time, all over the world, but in Alaska especially. (All whilst being married to a 48 year old semi-pro skier. He was very proud of this!)  An ex-maths professor who worked for NASA, he now takes clients mountaineering and climbing to encourage and promote lifestyle change.

The riding in NM has been through dry farmland. There’s been a four year drought so it’s totally dry, crops are suffering and farmers are having a very hard time, and all are wishing for just a little bit of rain. Arrived in Hatch late, to a bivvy on a bench near to the Municipal Hall. Brr, another cold one.

Day 96: Hatch to 3 miles NW of Hatch (3 miles)

Hatch is the chile capitol of the world. You can’t go through a place with a tagline like that without sampling some chile. That’s where Sparky’s Barbeque comes in. Green Chile Burger? Ok, then. Get the pineapple slaw too. Absolutely knackered from the previous day / night so read the signs and ended up kipping here:

Day 97: Nr Hatch to 16 miles NW of Deming (61 miles)

It’s more desert than farmland now. Very similar to rural West Texas. Simple riding, generally flat. Long straight roads in the blazing sun. Quiet roads too, with lots of the day spent without a car or person in sight. Just a lot of desert, and solar panels. Lots of solar panels. Not the kind to take with you on a bike ride though.

Day 98: Nr Deming to Silver City (37 miles)

Set off this morning, from a roadside camp in the desert. Most of the ride was more-of-the-same. Think tumbleweeds and long shimmering roads that run to the horizon. Ran out of water and had to drink hot (spicy) chili water left over from a noodle breakfast. Hot chili water in the middle of a hot desert is pretty gross. Pulled in to Hurley, a tiny little town in between Deming and Silver City. Like other towns in the area, it’s a historic mining town – gold and copper from back in the day.

Joseph and Karin Wade run the Hurley Art Gallery. Spent a good few hours with these two, chatting about how they ended up here, moving from Phoenix 7 years ago on a whim. Karin (below) is the web-savvy guru of the pair, and Joseph is a painter.

Here’s a film shot in collaboration with Joseph (Karin’s a little camera shy!). Had a lot of fun filming this one and hope it comes across. I’m not big into “art” in it’s traditional sense (i.e. fine art painting) but art doesn’t have to mean picking up a paintbrush like Joe, or taking photographs, or making Tracy Island out of Papier-mâché. It’s what you do that creates a connection with another person or group of people. Your art can be entrepreneurship, swimming, juggling, being the best damn waitress imaginable, whatever.   So take a look at the film in a general sense, as Joe talks about finding his path, grit & tenacity and goal setting.

(Click here if you can’t view the video in your email browser)

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* An epic tale ensued on this night. I’ll share in the distant future (using fake names & places to protect those involved) but can’t at the moment due to confidentiality. Let’s just say that the entire project was up-in-the-air for a moment. [for reference]