Categories
Adventure Interviews Philosophy

Nights and Mornings (AKA. Creative Rejuvenation, Insights & Spontaneity)

During that time a while back of living on a bicycle, one of the best parts was talking to people about things like finding a path in life, being content, ambitious, happy, making big decisions and all that good stuff. Those conversations were a consistent positive in a state of heavily fluctuating moods, mentalities and motivations. There’s a few reasons why those moments stick out. One is that it’s cool to relate to people and realise that everyone, no matter who they are, deal with similar thoughts. Another is that sometimes other peoples views can affect our own, and offer insights that have perhaps been overlooked and may be useful/actionable depending on our current circumstances.

To be honest, it seems like an age ago now where talking about these topics was a regular thing, and I’ve been missing those conversations, as well as missing making images just for enjoyment. So I’ve been wondering about simple ways to rejuvenate that. That’s where a new blog project – Nights and Mornings – comes in. It’s pretty simple really, and involves teaming up with an individual or small group, or solo, going somewhere with fresh air, chatting about the stuff mentioned above and someone’s story / taking an unconnected time out, sleeping in a sleeping bag on some grass, waking up somewhere epic, taking a bunch of photos and posting it all here as and when. Hopefully it’ll be fun, a kick up the ass to get away from the computer and stop letting everything else get in the way, and maybe insightful to read. I’ve done it a couple of times recently and it’s been really helpful, so if you’re in a rut I would highly recommend grabbing a sleeping bag and getting outside. Doesn’t need to be anything fancy. (I’m a big fan of Alastair Humphreys’ #microadventure movement)

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For the first one, I teamed up with Ben Robinson who’s been a good pal for years. We grew up in the same village in England, got into lots of mischief, rock climbed (he’s also a lightning fast belayer), bunked off school to rock climb, rode bikes, travelled to cliffs in the US and Europe, and generally spent a bunch of time in the mountains or on pedals. For a couple of years he’s been working in Thailand, as operations manager at an outdoor centre in the jungle, and before that he was living and working in New Zealand in a variety of roles. He is really good at going somewhere for a long-ish period of time and becoming fully immersed in that place and community. A couple of weeks ago he returned to the UK and for the first time in a while, we were in the same place at the same time, so on a whim threw some stuff into his van and headed to an old stomping ground in the fells. (ps. first person to identify the location gets a mars bar in the post.)

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On the draw of going somewhere to start from scratch, and the challenges of returning.

“You can go away and be who you want to be. You can make your life what you want it to be without any external factors. And that’s really refreshing, but then when you come back, and you’re now set a lot lower than what you may have been in another country, and your job might not be as good, or you might feel more pressure, it’s difficult to come to terms with. Everyone gets on with their life, and if you go away for a year or more, everyone’s moved on. No-one stops because you’re not there, and coming to grips with that, at first, was a bit weird.”

On being shy and solving that.

“When I first left to travel on my own, I found it really difficult to go and talk to people. I was really shy at that time which I’d never really felt before, because I’d always been somewhere I knew or with people I knew. Now after a few years of being used to those situations, I enjoy talking to new people, anywhere, but it wasn’t easy. I’d never thought of myself as a shy person before. I lived in Bangkok for a few months, and a lot of that time was by myself, and I didn’t have a big friend base at that time. I felt like an alien. But all it took was time and confidence, even before learning to speak Thai, and now it’s really no problem.”

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On escapism, progress, and perceived reality.

“At the moment I’m just really enjoying being back. Part of me feels like I should be developing here as well, so I’m not just always going away, then coming back to the same situation. Now it’s easy, in the grand scheme of things and logistically, to leave tomorrow and go almost anywhere with just a bit of cash. But maybe it is a way of escaping your situation, and maybe it’s an easy fix to go somewhere new. One time when I came home from Asia was because of the feeling that everyone else was progressing, and feeling pressure that I wasn’t living in reality, where in fact, in retrospect I was making my own reality, just in a completely different way to a lot of other people I know. And I’m not saying that what I do is a really good way to live. For most people it’d be shit never having anything set. But ‘don’t worry so much’ is what I need to tell myself. And I do get worked up about it still, having to have a plan and knowing the next step, but sometimes if you’re always worrying about the next step, then you’re going to worry yourself to death. Obviously you have to be driven and not get stagnant, but you don’t have to get stressed out.”

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On ambition and contentment.

“I’ve always known people who have been very ambitious, about career or education or outdoors. I struggle with not knowing which direction to put my energy. I don’t have an ambition to be a doctor, or climb the highest mountain in the world. I think it’s important that you have things you want to do though.”

“If I think about what I’m ambitious for in life, it’s maybe a bit stereotypical, but I want to have a job that I like a lot, that isn’t like working but is something I’m happy to put energy into. It’s not like ‘oh man I’ve gotta go to work’. If you’re happy to do that everyday, that’s gotta be good. And good people to share my life with as well, and I’m not just talking about a girlfriend or wife, I mean everyone. I’ve learnt now, and it’s obvious looking back, but I’ve realised I thrive by being around other people. I’m not good on my own. So having good people around, sustaining a nice lifestyle, that’d be a happy life. And obviously learning to say the alphabet backwards.”

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On giving advice to a younger self.

“Be happy with who you are. Don’t worry about what people think of you. Have the confidence in yourself to talk to people. It’s not a big deal, it doesn’t matter where you are. You have the power to spark conversations. You can’t wait for other people to do that for you. You’ll probably meet a few assholes, but you’ll meet a lot of wicked people too. There’s so much pressure now, but don’t worry if what you’re doing now isn’t what you want to do forever.”

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On a quote that has been influential.

To be truly challenging, a voyage, like a life, must rest on a firm foundation of financial unrest. Otherwise, you are doomed to a routine traverse, the kind known to yachtsmen who play with their boats at sea… “cruising” it is called. Voyaging belongs to seamen, and to the wanderers of the world who cannot, or will not, fit in. If you are contemplating a voyage and you have the means, abandon the venture until your fortunes change. Only then will you know what the sea is all about.

“I’ve always wanted to sail to the south seas, but I can’t afford it.” What these men can’t afford is not to go. They are enmeshed in the cancerous discipline of “security.” And in the worship of security we fling our lives beneath the wheels of routine – and before we know it our lives are gone.

What does a man need – really need? A few pounds of food each day, heat and shelter, six feet to lie down in – and some form of working activity that will yield a sense of accomplishment. That’s all – in the material sense, and we know it. But we are brainwashed by our economic system until we end up in a tomb beneath a pyramid of time payments, mortgages, preposterous gadgetry, playthings that divert our attention for the sheer idiocy of the charade.

The years thunder by, The dreams of youth grow dim where they lie caked in dust on the shelves of patience. Before we know it, the tomb is sealed.

Where, then, lies the answer? In choice. Which shall it be: bankruptcy of purse or bankruptcy of life? 

– Sterling Hayden

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Categories
Philosophy

Is Success Make-Believe?

Yesterday I fell down a well. In the well there was plenty of exploring to do. It was just like you’d expect it to be. Skeletons, coins, and rays of sun which hit the water like a spotlight. No not literally – literally falling down a well would be ridiculous. It was the well of new insights.

This is a post about something that I don’t understand, because even though the words continue and are one-sided, goals remain a big driving force. A bunch of you are probably similar and have a large amount of impatience when it comes to your progress. So this post is hypocritical. And it doesn’t have much to do with adventure. But sometimes writing about stuff can be a good way to attempt to understand it, and that’s what this is. (Shoutout to the awesome Delve.tv for the inspiration and insights)

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Loads of us have struggles with ambition vs. contentment, goal setting vs. happiness, being excited about where we are now vs. looking towards where we want to be.

Selection bias is when something is reported but is biased and inaccurate. Reported ‘success’ is plagued with it. The outlets we watch, read, and listen to all suggest that we should invent an app in our twenties and sell it for a billion dollars within 18 months. It’s mostly about winning with speed,  whilst we’re young. But fast-success is like winning the lottery and rarely happens. We gloss over slow-success – the kind that is achieved by plugging away. We gloss over the years of hustle. The years when it doesn’t work.

There’s an actual reason why we only hear about the fast, young success stories. And this is the bit that blew my mind whilst in the confines of that well: a few influential marketers caused us to celebrate young and fast, because it sells more stuff.

Madison Avenue in the 50’s. A bunch of ad execs got together and decided to sell products to younger people. Why? Because you can sell more stuff for longer to younger people. Companies make more money because younger people buy things for their whole lives. It’s not as hard to persuade a young person to buy something than an older person who’s already picked whether they’re Team Coke or Team Pepsi. It’s marketing, and it’s the reason and the root of why we are conditioned to think that it’s normal to reach ‘success’ fast and young. But it’s not actually very normal at all.

Da Vinci was born in 1452. Let’s call him L D V because everyone loves an acronym. He got a painting apprenticeship when he was 14. He then got a few freelance gigs, messed them up completely, and no-one would hire him to make stuff anymore. He had to paint dead criminals to get by. But during his dark days he kept making, kept bashing out work, kept painting. Kept creating for 16 years and still nothing happened. It was 1498 when he had a breakthrough and made something that anyone cared about. It was called The Last Supper and apparently it’s alright.

Same story for most people. Think of someone you know who you think has it all figured out now, delve into their story and I bet you’ll find that wasn’t always the case. There’s generally this long and sustained period of failure before anything happens. We’re happy to ignore that it takes years. We’ll gladly disregard the first 9,000 hours of the 10,000 hour rule because the story’s not as good if that bit is mentioned. We think overnight success when it’s closer to 20-year success.

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It seems like there’s a few takeaways. We should be ambitious, because it’s a powerful driver. If bigman L D V stopped being ambitious, and stopped being persistent towards his mission, then that would’ve been bad news for him, and for the world if that’s your kinda thing.

For the grand missions, we shouldn’t worry or become too impatient if things take longer than expected, or longer than is ‘normal’. Because modern normal has literally been skewed for profit.

If we are driven by a meaningful goal then we should be happy for it to take time, and expect this time to be when people doubt. Doubt is OK if you’re committed to the long-game. Here’s some of my own selection bias: People doubted Google in 1998. Guess what, doubters? They just brought out a self-driving car which will use sensors to stop people being killed in car accidents. No-one in their right mind doubts Google anymore. They remembered to never listen to anyone who isn’t in the ring. They remembered to be stubborn in times of doubt. They remembered that critics who chime in without ever having made anything are trolls.

It’d be really easy to end here with a mega-cliché. The classic one that you know already. Featuring the words journey and destination. Urghh, sorry. Let’s not do that.

Shouldn’t ignoring the goals and taking joy from the process be the most crucial ingredient? Seeing something taking shape should be the reward. Everything else should be a side-effect that isn’t the focus. Maybe we should ignore the pressure for things to happen quickly because that’s what we’ve been brainwashed to believe is normal when it isn’t.

When the meaning behind doing what we do is the right one, the slow plod is the right path. Because without even knowing it we’ll probably look back and realise that, whilst it might seem like a process wrought with irritating plateau’s and speed bumps, we have come a long way and are taking steps forward. Perhaps that’s more important than success or reaching a goal. Perhaps that is enough?

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(p.s. here’s a more adventure-centric post for Sidetracked about going for a walk in Alaska.)

Categories
Adventure Bicycle Travel

368 Days Later.

And it’s done! What a week. 363 – 368! Ithaca to NYC.

It’s been odd, this week more than most, knowing that it’s coming to an end in the coming days. There were moments of About time! excited, and moments of Maybe just one more loop? apprehension. The biking’s been good. Nothing has gone wrong and closing in on the end goal provided an easy way of falling into that dreamed-of zone where cycling becomes effortless. That’s not to say there weren’t crazy climbs, because there was (looking at you Pennsylvania), but with the momentum of a year coming to an end they weren’t enough to cause any delays.

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Being in gung-ho mode, necessary to make the end in time, there’s been a lot of saddle time. That’s often lead to nights in the farmland of NY, PA and NJ states, riding at night on the empty roads. It was surprising how remote it can be considering how close it is to the biggest city in the US. One of those nights lead, by coincidence, to a roadside invitation to crash at a lakeside cottage where Marianna and Elizabeth, two Buddhists, were staying. They were awesome, insisted on making some amazing food, and it was an amazing place to chill out when most moments recently had been a bit of a head-spin.

A few days of cycling later, and it was the final day. So close to being done. So close that something was bound to happen. ‘Course it was. I got sloppy and stumbled onto the highway. In parts of North America you’re allowed on the highway, in others you’re not. In New York you’re not. It was a blast – flying down the shoulder, knowing that this was the fastest route, seeing the New York skyline for the first time and realising it was so close.

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Oops. The police weren’t happy. Fortunately the officer was hilarious and other than an insistence to get off at the next exit, he wasn’t all that fussed. 90 minutes later I rolled into New York via George Washington Bridge and met my folks. It was like an ultra high definition skype call and amazing to see their faces after so long. And it was the end. 

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If you’re reading at this point, thank you! The emails and blog comments in the tough parts were a massive motivator, it played a huge role in seeing the trip through to the end. So thank you. And to everyone who donated or helped with a place to crash along the way or agreed to be featured in this project – I’m still blown away by how awesome you all were.

So that’s it. So much has happened that it’s a flurry, but it’s clear this was something special. The one-more-loop-thought has faded (for now) and it’s exciting to think about what happens next. Hopefully you’ll stick around as the blog will now get pretty fun – snippets of unpublished interview, retrospective articles, footage of getting blasted by sprinklers at 3am – but that’ll all start in a couple of weeks – for now I’m off to catch up on a years worth of half-sleep and wonder around the city until the flight home. And if anyone knows where to get the best slice of pizza here do just shout. Because pizza’s great. Thanks!

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Categories
Adventure Bicycle Travel

Video: Curling in Winnipeg

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A couple of days ago there was an opportunity to quickly take a return trip from Winnipeg to San Francisco for an event (more on that soon), so there’s not been much route progress since the last post. Tomorrow morning the momentum builds again and it needs to be pretty full on for the next 6 weeks or so. It’s very much autumn now – seems to have switched from ‘kinda autumn’ a couple of weeks back. Really looking forward to hitting the road, it’s perfect for biking at the moment.

Speaking of the weather… Manitoba gets cold. Hopefully it won’t be too brisk for a while yet, but in Winnipeg a cold winter can be more than 40 below celcius. It gets icy, and so like a lot of Canada, ice sports are all the rage, hockey especially. One that doesn’t seem talked about as much is Curling. Turns out Winnipeg is basically the world capital of curling, and the Granite Curling Club, which stretches back to 1880, is known to the Curling Community as the ‘Mother Club’.

Had the chance to visit a few days ago and talk to Lisa, a competitive curler, and Churchy, a hobbiest and also the clubs Ice Maker. Hope you enjoy the video! If you like watching Brits fall on their faces this one’s for you too.

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P.S. In other news, yesterday was the first Vague Direction / Huffington Post collab. The plan is to write a few stories about some of the meetings that have taken place so far, and you can read the first one, about meeting Brad, the cross-country walker, here.

P.P.S. Big up to Bill at the Guest House International in Winnipeg. Stayed here for a couple of nights and it’s an amazing hostel setup with a basement that’s perfect for stashing a bike. He also wrote a book about Canadian Spy, William Stephenson, who is apparently the basis of James Bond!

P.P.P.S. Where’d September go?

Categories
Adventure Bicycle Travel

295 – 302: Lloydminster, AB to Lanigan, SK

First off – a HUGE thank you to everybody who donated and helped spread the word after the last post. Totally blown away, thanks! The game goes on because of you! [If you missed the last post and are able to help out at all, all the details are here.]

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300 days on the road. Nothing like century numbers to make you realise how long it’s been. It’s been a stint of plugging away, making a bit of progress in the prairies, then exploring Saskatoon, then cycling more prairies. It’s been crazy hot – the locals are shocked and say it’s very unusual. It’s not uncommon for the first snow to fall in September so a T-shirt and shorts climate of 27 C+ isn’t a yearly thing. Makes for tiring sweat-ridden days in the saddle, and it’s kind of weird but it seems as though the surface of the road becomes softer and slower. Gloopy tarmac that tries to eat at your tyres. Could just be a placebo effect though.

The approach into Saskatoon definitely was slowed down though – no placebo there. There were road repairs which meant cycling through unset tar, followed by loose gravel and sand. The 20 miles into downtown Saskatoon were so sluggish. It would have been faster to jog as the bike tyres were now a big tarry mess. Saskatoon is an amazing city though. I spent a couple of days exploring and definitely think there’s something about that place that’s appealing. It’s under the radar compared to other Canadian cities and is gritty enough to not feel touristy when downtown, but with a super friendly, young and diverse community to be welcoming. It’s made the ‘one day go back and explore properly’ list.

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Like several people have mentioned, the actual riding is quite samey in terms of landscape. But unlike some reports I’m not finding that to be a bad thing (not yet anyway!) – from Thunder Bay onwards it’s going to get steep again, so for now the flatness is appreciated. The only thing you have to be careful off is drivers throwing apples at you near North Battleford. Just kidding – you just have to be careful of the one driver who does that. Who’d have thought someone who eats fruit would be so aggressive? But it does gives you good practice at flipping the bird.

The prairies make awesome visuals, as the horizon can be so far away. There’s nothing like cycling into the wind all day on the flat plains, having spent the day face down with your eyeballs occasionally looking up for direction, to realise it’s 8pm and a killer sunset has just formed behind you. It’s hard to see how anyone can get bored of the prairies when it’s like this day after day.

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Thought I’d sign out with a quick lesson about all-you-can-eat chicken from day 294.

After the most unsubtle camping session for ages, I woke up in Lloydminster hungry and sore. It was definitely going to be a slow start. The kind of morning where you yawn for the first hour and can barely open your eyelids. But then something great happened, there was a sign, through the blur of half-open eyelids, that read ‘All You Can Eat Chinese Buffet for $10’. Protein – that repairs muscles right? Good for soreness? Unlimited protein? It was on.

I’ve never eaten so much chicken. Unfortunately, upon standing up and leaving the buffet, something was wrong. I’d eaten far too much, and could hardly move. It’s the novelty of something being unlimited. Cue stomach cramps. I kind of figured that maybe it’ll all be ok in an hour or so, and it would be fixed by sitting it out for a while. I sat there for ages, meat sweats dripping down my face, altogether in an uncomfortable and embarrassing way, forehead resting against table.

“Do you think they’ll convince everyone? You know, Obama and Cameron?” 

Talk about a curveball. The chicken greed meant any form of decent communication was impossible, other than through banging my head on the table surface and groaning. It didn’t get better, I didn’t cycle anywhere that day and it was a thoroughly pathetic site.

“Not sure, sorry.”  It was a conversation that didn’t get very far.

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Categories
Adventure Interviews

[Video] Vague Direction People: Yukon River Kayakers

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Back in the late 1800’s, The Yukon River was one of the main transportation routes for the Klondike Gold Rush. Jump to 2013 and nowadays it’s less about gold and more about shredding in a variety of floating crafts. Connor Oliver-Beebe and Lawrence Brennan are two local kayakers, and a few days ago were out for a play in their playboats underneath the Rotary Centennial Bridge near Whitehorse, YK. I tagged along and was in awe of their skills the whole time – it was a blast. Below is a snippet of some of that filming. Hope you enjoy it.

Categories
Adventure Bicycle Travel

247 – 254: Fairbanks, AK to Whitehorse, YK

Straight after getting back from the Stampede Trail, I spent a while in Fairbanks with some sketchy illness. Water-from-the-river related maybe. Whatever it was, it meant a few days of not going anywhere. Other than recovery on the road being an altogether inconvenience, it wasn’t a big deal because the time could also act as an opportunity to get recharged for the final leg of the journey. Fairbanks is the highest point North on this trip, and the final ‘corner’. It was a weird relief to know this was the last turning point, but still whilst looking over the map I couldn’t help but be hit with a wave of anxiety, which is stupid really after coming this far. The biggest leg is yet to come and it’s a really bloody long way back to the East Coast from Alaska. Obviously it all comes together when you set off, bite size pieces and all that, but regardless there was a wave of intimidation in the air – unparalleled since looking down out of the plane window on the way to start this thing.

247: Fairbanks – Shaw Pond (75 miles)

The ride from Fairbanks followed the Tanana River upstream. Keep going upstream and you don’t have to worry about any other navigation. Simple, if you ignore that following a river upstream inevitably means a lot of hill climbing. The first town you hit is North Pole and it’s not often you find yourself riding down Santa Claus Lane in North Pole. By now the bike started to be getting a bit clunky. It’s gotten easy to spot when certain mechanical problems are imminent, and a skipping chain means a snapped chain is just around the corner. It’s become a twisted challenge now – rather than frustration it’s a game of how long can you make it last? Not very in this case. The repairs have become a game too -how fast can this get sorted? Not very in this case. It was eventually going smoothly though and for the first time, the mountains made an appearance from behind the clouds. Mega.

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Ticked a goal at the end of the evening too which was to find a stealth camp spot near somewhere to swim. There have been places that appear great for swimming but have been glacially-fed / freeze-your-privates-off cold (looking at you, British Columbia). Shaw Pond  was fairly deserted other than a couple of RV’s parked up for the night and deep. And the water was bearable at last.

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250: Delta Jct – Tok Jct (108 miles)

The cycling’s been samey for a while. The odd lake, the occasional roadside moose, but mostly open tundra or tree meadows (a lot of them burnt from the notorious forest fires that hit Alaska each year because of lightning strikes.) Bumped into Javier, a hilarious and infectiously upbeat Argentinian who’s a few days away from finishing an epic 18 month journey from the Ushuaia in South America to the Beaufort Sea in the North of Alaska. From the bottom to the top of the Americas. Hardcore. Clearly 18 months on the road have taken their toll though, because now he wears plastic bags on his feet.

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 251: Tok Jct – Northway Jct (49 miles)

Other than in sections of Texas and Arizona, the actual cycling between towns has been solo. For the most part, other cyclists have been going the other way. That all changed outside of Tok Junction, when in the space of about half an hour, there ended up being 4 riders from 3 separate parties cycling together the same way.

First up there was Busy from Colorado and Michael (blog) from North Carolina, university pals who are on a month long trip that goes Anchorage > Fairbanks > Whitehorse > Juneau. Like any crowd, or sport, or whatever, a minority of the cyclists you meet can be ‘touring snobs’, who judge your gear and route choices and don’t seem much fun. It’s always a million times more enjoyable riding with those who are in it for light-hearted reasons rather than being 100% focused on the act of cycle touring, so I was so glad to hear after a minute of meeting these lot, “Wahey, another member of the say-no-to-spandex team”.

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10 minutes later, there was Wish (or 施暐煦 – his blog here) from Taiwan, who was two days into his trip from Fairbanks to Whitehorse, and then down the West Coast to San Diego. He’d not done a bike trip before and it was easy to relate to his obvious shock of “what am I getting myself into?”. Physically, the first couple of weeks are definitely the sorest, the most intimidating and the time when you learn the most quickly about how it all works.

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252: Northway Jct, AK – Beaver Creek, YK (Canada)

The day started off like most, nothing unusual. Just a gentle ride hoping to get into Canada. It was only 45 miles or so away. A couple of hours and it was the same kind of thing as previous days. A plod on quiet roads through Alaskan tundra. Then it suddenly all went downhill, whilst riding uphill.

There haven’t been any serious prolonged injuries on this entire trip so far. There was a bruised metatarsal in Charleston, SC, but with The Body Rehab’s help, it was fixed in a couple of days. There was a brief 24 hours of knee pain in El Paso, TX, but it was gone quickly. Other than that, nothing. Cut back to the hill climb, and a moment where on a downstroke a tweak shot through my right knee. It was fairly obvious something had happened – pedalling uphill brought on a sharp pain and even walking with the bike was a limpfest. It was clear no more riding was going to happen that afternoon so out went the thumb. A hitchhike to the next town, Beaver Creek, to figure out what to do next.

The first car to pass was the one that stopped, an amazing ratio. They didn’t have any room in the car but were towing a Yamaha in a trailer, which had just about enough spare room to stuff my bike in the back and crawl in amongst the motorbike and the pushbike. In between the departure borders of Alaska and the entry into The Yukon is a kind of no-mans land. You’ve left the US, and are in Canada, but you haven’t been officially stamped in. And the roads are TERRIBLE. Forget paved road, this is a mix of dirt, gravel and sand. The crew in the car didn’t seem to mind, so being in the trailer and bouncing up and down as we hit each pothole was like being on a rollercoaster in a theme park. Loved it.

I was soon at Beaver Creek and ended up setting up a really obvious tent site by the side of the road in between a bunch of statues. When you put up a tent whilst you’re kind of knackered, and then wake up and stumble out of the tent to be greeted by this guy WITH A PICKAXE, it definitely wakes you up fast.

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253: Beaver Creek – Whitehorse

Camping with an injury in a tiny town in the middle of nowhere when it’s raining is crap, no two ways about it. I woke up still limping and decided it’d be wise to hole up in the nearest town of any size. That was Whitehorse, so out went the thumb again and an hour later a huge RV pulled over. Valerie and Joni, along with 3 tiny dogs, were driving all the way to Olympia, WA and were going right through Whitehorse. As you’d expect if they were willing to drive a stranger for a few hours, they were both super friendly but their time in Alaska had been enough (the constant summer light plays havoc with your head and quality of sleep) and they were were excited to the lower 48 again.

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254+ Whitehorse

There’s been a heavy stint of constant rain recently. A couple of nights where it was so intense, that in just the time between getting gear out of the panniers and setting up a camp, everything was soaked. Basically like sleeping in a puddle, so they weren’t the best nights and were more quick rest than proper sleep. The first night in Whitehorse was torrential and ended up being one of the bad stealth camp nights, on the concrete behind a DIY store. Honestly if you’re reading this and plan to do a bike trip in the future, don’t think you need to camp behind home repair stores on the concrete. This was just daft planning and a ‘Urghh, I give up’ late night mentality.

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It’s really hard to be psyched when it’s so wet. Riding just isn’t enjoyable, much of your gear gets soaked, and compounded tent life is draining. It doesn’t happen all that much, but I’ve opted for a few-day stint in a Whitehorse motel. It’s a few days holed up with an iced knee, a raised leg, a bunch of ibuprofen as per physio instructions, gear drying in the corner and the sound of rain tapping at the window. Busy and Michael arrived yesterday too on their way to Skagway so it’s been nice to know people in town and feast on pizza. Strangely, all it takes to be motivated sometimes is a decent kip and dry gear. The rain is due to leave, and after a few nights here I’m raring to go again, so hopefully the next blog will be more upbeat. The ever fluctuating highs and lows of road life!

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– – –

247: Fairbanks – Shaw Pond (75 miles)
248: Shaw Pond – Delta Jct (21 miles)
250: Delta Jct – Tok Jct (108 miles)
251: Tok Jct – Northway Jct (49 miles)
252: Northway Jct – Beaver Creek (45m ride / 15m hitchhike split)
253: Beaver Creek – Whitehorse (277 mile hitchhike)

Categories
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 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?