Nr Toad River, YT, Canada - Yes, I really really am doing all this riding!

Courtesy of www.SladeRide.com

(Gallery at bottom of post)

PING!  PING!  WTF!

No, I’m not trying for the UK table tennis team at the next Olympics, nor am I breaking the strings on a guitar (which is sort of like the sound…) but the spokes are breaking on my rear wheel.  Just after crossing the Continental Divide in Yukon Territory we notice at camp that I have one (the first…) broken.  After Ward’s kind assistance the spoke is repaired and we set off the next morning but then its ping ping ping ping pingety-ping as I break 4 more spokes in the course of 25 miles (again Ward heroically repairs them for me using his 15 years as a bike mechanic!).

(for this part of this stage of the trip I’ve been riding with the lovely Ward and Jacky, on the road for 2 years with 1 more year to go!)

Attempts whilst at a ‘pull-in’ by the roadside to reposition more weight to the front wheel (swapping panniers around and re-packing) and (at slight risk, but I have purification stuff so can drink from streams) jettison some of the water I am carrying are to no avail when the 6th spoke breaks after a 100 or so metres.  We’re 150 miles past the last bike shop with at least 400 miles to the next one.  The reader can here enter their favourite expletive for emphasis   I have a feeling akin to that I encountered on the Dalton when my stove broke but whereas I was able to manage (!) with no stove for that stretch, its sort of difficult to ride a bicycle with one wheel missing!

(cue jokes about “Now come on Jon, you could surely do a ‘wheelie’ the whole way!?” well, actually, it would have to be an ‘endo’ – with rear in the air – and, spookily, there are no pedals on the front wheel so going anything other than downhill would be a mite tricky…! so, na-na-na-na-nah! sorry, but someone is bound to say it!)

In the last big town (Whitehorse) we’d noticed that my rear rim was cracked – I was running Mavic 717s with 32 spokes which are race rims and which I now realise would be ok for short-term touring but more intense long-term expedition-type touring really warrant at least 36 spokes and beefier rims.  Essentially I was trying (and astonishingly, succeeded for a long time) to do the equivalent of an off-road car Rally, utilising a large ‘roof-rack’ to carry a small horse, with Lamborghini alloys!

The wheel had been previously rebuilt (ref previous Tweet) with a new tougher rim in Whitehorse (still 32 spokes) but for some reason (too many Buffalo Burgers in my belly no doubt) was ok for a only a few days with the combination of my weight and the potted road surfaces, so the pings, agonisingly, began and kept coming.  Where I now think I was carrying 210 plus at least 180 lbs on the Dalton I’m now carrying maybe 210 (me) plus 140 lbs which is still pretty huge.

Decision.  Agggh!  6 spokes down and we knew it was going to keep happening.  We were running out of spare spokes.  Even if I could make it the 50 or so miles to the next town, Watson Lake, they had no bike shop.

I thought briefly about going back (to Whitehorse) but my mind told me that in this situation its best to go forwards.  It took 2 minutes of discussion.  I knew what I had to do.  Thumb out…and the FIRST vehicle actually stopped!  And it was a huge semi-articulated rig with empty trailer!  Thank you ‘A’! (the rig drivers aren’t allowed to take hitchikers, hence the use of only an initial, but in his words “Man this is tough country and there is no way I’m gonna leave a guy standing by the road out there”).

Watson Lake, YT, Canada - 2nd broken wheel! Lift on back of semi / articulated lorry

The whole bike, fully laden (well done Charles, it must have been a bit scary) was strapped to the back of the trailer…with just one (BIG!) strap.  It held.  For 50 miles.  And ‘A’ even stopped to allow me to check my notes for the location of the campsite!  I was hugely disappointed to be off the bike and very jealous of the guys when they rode into camp later that day, but as my dad says, the delays make the journey …

As soon as I got to a phone I rang iCycle in Whitehorse (thank you so much Jonah for your help), ‘spec-ed’ out what I wanted and ordered TWO (front  and rear) new 36 spoke wheels made by Sun, the model called the Rhyno!  Jonah built the wheels that afternoon (a 2-3 hour job) and got them on the next Greyhound Bus to Watson Lake.  Amazing.  I picked them up the next evening from the bus station 2 miles down the road, borrowing Ward’s bike to do so – believe me, carrying 2 wheels in a box on potholed roads with one hand on the handlebars and the other on the box, with no straps, was a bit hairy!  Ward and Jacky couldn’t stop laughing when I pulled into camp…”How..? What…? Let me get my camera!”.

(they also stayed the extra night which was fantastic and meant, all being well we could continue together on the road the next day)

After some Kinesiology in a pimped-out RV (read: ‘large luxury bus’) from a 15 year old prodigy – as you do – Ward and I worked into the early hours fitting wheels, adjusting brakes and then I went for a road test at 1 am.  No pings…please!

Its been nearly 2 weeks in which time Charles and I have ridden over 600 miles.  So far so good.

Watson Lake, YT, Canada - Me on Ward's bike having just picked up 2 new wheels (in box) from bus station 2 miles up road...did well not to crash on way back I thought! (pic courtesy of the Budwegs)

And do you know, the best thing to come out of this was that I simply did not hesitate when by the roadside making that decision: there was no way I would fail to get on the road again, I would do what it took, and quite frankly, thats pretty cool I think (bearing in mind that I’ve felt my motivation waver many times – as I’m sure it will in future too!).

In just over 2 weeks Ward, Jacky & I have covered nearly 800 miles which with the hills, heat (regularly in the high 30s celcius) and on many days headwinds is astonishing.  As mentioned in a previous Tweet referencing ace world record holder Mark Beaumont it was even more challenging when one considers that it was common to have stretches of 150 miles at a time with no facilities whatsoever, no homes, no outhouses, just the occasional litterbin (oooh, excitement!).  Its a sad state of affairs as we’ve seen dozens of (what were already very dispersed) abandoned homes, restaurants, motels and campgrounds.  Times are tough in the world and whilst I’ve worked very hard to be able to be here, doing this, I know I’m also very privileged and fortunate.

We’ve seen wildlife like you wouldn’t believe with 3 bears in 1 day and herds of Dall Sheep and Bison in abundance – my 1st Black Bear was about 20 feet away, crossing the road in front of me which was, as before, the most surreal experience, as I said ‘Hello Bear’ (Park Service guidance!) he stopped and looked quizzically at me before bounding off into the trees.  Liard Hot Springs were also lurrrrvvvlllly!

We’ve camped every night and I haven’t slept in a bed for over a month now, often we’re wild camping as there is no other option.  Charles has his new wheels (heavy!), bar-ends, additional bottle cages (6!) and my stove is now working through the use of a bottle cap and some wire (thanks Adam and Ward!).  I’ve also had to swap my Exped matress for a Thermarest as the Exped valve just didn’t stand up to the task (great for super extreme occasional expeditions but not in my experience for long-haul).

I’m NOT losing weight which is bonkers.  My legs feel like pistons but they do get tired eventually – with the guys we’ve been regularly doing 75 mile days and sometimes 80s and once a 90!  I can pull on the hills but am starting to think I need to modify my riding style a little as I’m pretty heavy and with the length of my thighs can get a lot of torque on the pedals which is ok every now and then but I’ll thrash components if I’m not careful.  That said, stuff just wears out, no ’2 ways about it’.  My rear tyre is getting bald after nearly 2000 miles and whilst the wheels should be good for a while they will ‘go’ at some point.

Nr Toad River, YT, Canada - no, look at the sheep not my posterior!

And – bar the 50 miles mentioned above – I’ve cycled the whole of the Alaskan Highway from Delta Junction, Alaska, USA to Dawson Creek, British Columbia, Canada!  AND, gone through 2000 cumulative miles!

Just a quick comment about road safety in Canada – 90% of drivers have been great but every now and then you get some loony tune who either has no clue they’re so close or they totally know and are trying to make a point.  Basically, the law of the jungle says I have to heed (of course) but often I’ve got nowhere else to go, where I’m already pulled far-right.  I need to continue to de-risk the situation and certainly avoid confrontation.

It was 38 degrees celcius yesterday, the hottest in which I’ve ever ridden.  Today its 42!  I’m having a day off!  For 6 weeks the daytime temperature hasn’t dropped below 30c.  Amazing.  And I’m in northern Canada!

I said a sorry farewell to Ward and Jacky today – its been a great few weeks and I’m sure we’ll meet again (I want to show Ward Afan’s trails Phil, Dave et al).

Next steps for me: Jasper and the Icefields Parkway.  Woooohooooo!

Thank you everyone for your kind comments and continued support

Ward & Jacky’s website www.fromthebenchesoftheworld.com

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Kluane Lake, YT, Canada - RV, biker & cyclists heaven

Courtesy of www.SladeRide.com…

(Gallery at bottom of post)

Prologue – Peru, September 2005, Jon Slade ‘blog e-mail’ to home…

Firstly, an overlooked incident from the time of my last missive, whilst on mountaineering “manoeuvres” (no Jon, you are not and never have been in the army, Cub Scouts yes) in the Peruvian Andes. We’d been warned about thefts in our particular valley (Ishinca) and on the basis that we made up the only two tents in the whole area had become particularly vigilent, or so we thought.

The last night, knackered after 4 days of climbing, as we plunged into the sanctuary of our sleeping bags the tent, suddenly but briefly, almost collapsed on top of us under some great weight…followed by the sound of the outer tent being unzippped…what the %$&*!?

Anthony (the Belgian, connoisseur of fine food and wine), head torch on, bravely opened his side of the inner tent, where the “incident” had occurred only to be confronted by the demonic glow of 2 orange eyes peering back at him – a Bull!. WHAT THE &%$*! Astonishingly it had opened the outer tent with ITS HORN! The beast, with a young apprentice in tow then grabbed in its mouth the rubbish bag from the tent’s lobby and marched away at speed. Urgently, we gathered up any food that we had in the tent and tossed it out – this consisted of 2 oranges, thrown as far as we could muster (in our state, about 5 feet). However these ‘decoy’ oranges then became a source of worry – what if the animals thought we were trying to feed them? they might come back for more…!

Time passed, and to our huge relief they seemed to move off into the darkness (the animals, not the oranges). Phew. We (who am I in this story again? am I an orange?) then made some vague attempts at sleep, now feeling guilty for the way we had, the day before, mocked the local bulls from afar as they charged one-another and locked horns. Quite an escape, goodness knows how much the big one weighed! And those horns!

But…BANG! %&$* they were back! But we have no food! Unless…they’re after…US! Right this is serious (it wasn’t before?) ice axes ready. C’mon! I’ll ‘ave the lot of you! Ok Steven Seagall, calm down – would I actually do it? Would I?

You may be either pleased or disappointed (shame on you!) to know I didn’t need to, they sloped off after rummaging through the fire pit and rejecting one of the oranges. We both slept with our axes at our sides for the rest of the night though!

Incidentally, together these bovine-raiders ate the entire rubbish bag, plastic included – we didn’t find a trace! Our local guide and friend in the other tent found the whole thing quite hysterical, especially, for some reason, the oranges. Was it a bull or a very big cow? We’ll never now. I am, however, kind of glad I didn’t have to explain to the local police why some poor farmers pride and joy had an ice axe wedged between those spooky eyes…would I have?

Cottonwood RV Park, YT, Canada - it won

Eve of American Independence Day, July the 4th 2009

‘Blue Peter’ has a lot to answer for…

Northway Junction, Alaska, USA.  Population maybe 70 people.  50 miles from the Canadian border.   After a good, but hot morning’s ride (around 60 miles) I stopped to stay the night at an RV park, which seemed to have mostly semi-permanent residents, although on that particular day looked fairly unoccupied, owing I presumed to it being the occasion in question.  I was asked to pitch my tent right at bottom of site next to the forest.

I had a ‘cook your own’ steak at a bar a mile or so’s walk down the road and was ready for bed.  Back in the tent, after maybe 10 mins asleep and “what was that?” I thought, startled, as something RAN INTO THE SIDE OF THE TENT making a ‘huffing’ sound, which bears are known to do…OMG….

…I summoned up the courage to lean close and look out (to help air-flow into the tent on hot nights I sleep with the bottom half of the porch open)… only to see…4 long, muscled, blonde furry legs with huge paws run past, right outside!…and to make matters worse, above the noise of the nearby quarry I heard a guttural, growling, purring sound…there and then I convinced myself that I had not a bear but a MOUNTAIN LION  stalking my tent!!!!!

So many many things went through my mind.  “Was I right in thinking that the especially harsh winter meant it was desparate and turning to – rare – human prey?”, “Would anyone come?”, “If I shouted would it aggravate my tormentor into a frenzy?” and “Would I make it through the night?”….????

After what seemed like a hopeless eternity I decided, almost impossibly, I’d wait until morning and hope that some people might arrive – even though there was a small wooden ‘outhouse’ (with a door) 20 metres away, at close range I thought the animal would be too quick for me to (bear) spray it, plus, I didn’t even know if the spray would work on cats!   Did ursine and feline genetics both react the same way to the highly pressurised ‘expulsion’?  Would I jet myself in the face in a panic?

(nonetheless, I removed the safety catch from the spray, held it to my chest and tried to stay more quiet and more still than I think I have ever before…for…HOURS)

Time seemed to stand still.  The digits on my watch seemed held, as if in treacle.  At about 2.30am after 3.5 hours of trying to not move and maintain, agonisingly, some sense of calm, the noise of the quarry finally stopped and I figured, horrifyingly that the breathing and the purring were coming from 2 SLIGHTLY DIFFERENT DIRECTIONS…there were 2 OF THEM!

(a mother teaching a cub…HOW TO HUNT!!!!???)

At that point I certainly thought there’s NO WAY I could make it to the outhouse. My mobile phone was in the tent’s porch, behind a zipped-up mosquito net and I contemplated a 911 call but worried that opening the zip might aggravate them and if that didn’t, speaking on the phone might (I’d also had no coverage on my phone for weeks).  Dead-end.

I then remembered (only then?) my gps-tracking device (SPOT) – which was also behind the zipped-up net – has an ‘emergency beacon’ button (which sends my location to a 24 hour call centre in Texas who then co-ordinate with local rescue services anywhere in the world to evacuate the holder of the device).

No time to be a hero I decided – I didn’t fancy getting mauled or…worse.

I slowly and gently opened the mosquito net, got the device and pressed the button and as quietly and quickly as I could, pushed it out of the already half open front of the tent, hoping that my hands wouldn’t get eaten in the process, and that the batteries would last as I tried desparately to remember if I’d pitched the tent under a tree (which could block the line of sight to the satellite)…please work!

I waited another 2 hours, hoping that every car in the distance would come to me and be the local police, alerted by the call centre. Nothing came. Maybe there were trees in the way so no signal had been received. Maybe, on a night like 4th July eve and bearing in mind that the nearest major police station was 50 miles away, no officers were available.

So, after nearly 6 hours, I decided I was on my own.  I listened, again.  I didn’t think I could hear the breathing.  I grabbed the clothes at hand (it gets chilly before 9am), the gps device, took a deep breath and popped my head out the front of the tent and then back in.  Nothing.  Then, bear spray in hand I made it to the outhouse.

Again I listened.  I could still hear something like the growling / purring but from the (pungent) wooden hut could see nothing.

Was it / they in the trees of the forest…or…could I… actually…have been…mistaken?

Then, from behind the half ajar door of the outhouse I saw a woman arriving at the trailer next to me.  She didn’t get pounced-on and didn’t seem alarmed…

At the back of my mind I remembered seeing a dog by one of the trailers at the top of the site before I went to bed. Why hadn’t it smelt or heard something and raised the alarm?

I cancelled the rescue message on the device (SPOT) and walked over to the woman and asked had she been here last night – she had but I’d not heard her arrive over the noise of the quarry.  Had she noticed any ‘strange animals’ around camp last night? Well, she said, there’s the big, blonde dog that hangs around sometimes…

I made the connection.  Oh, the, shame!

(of course I didn’t have to tell anyone this story…and if I hadn’t no one would ever have known…)

Northway Junction, AK, US - Camera-shy 'Goldie'

I’d only seen the animals legs.  After listening again the growling / purring turned out to be…a BIRD CALL!  Then, 10 minutes later after a walk to find a payphone I met, by my tent ‘Goldie’, a huge blonde wolf of a dog, sneezing from all the pollen spores in the air, with legs that looked like…a lion.  He was lovely.

Now we’re buddies and he even joined me later as I went for a wee by the edge of the woods, cocking his leg to scent the same tree as me.

Suffice to say the gps unit worked and the call centre had spoken to my ‘emergency contacts’ and were just about to get some State Troopers (police) to drive to the campsite when they received the ‘cancel’ message, thinking and telling my mum and dad that I’d probably pressed the button by mistake and on realising had cancelled it.

So I spent over 6 hours seriously, seriously (seriously!) fearing for my life to be followed by a not an insubstantial amount of embarrassment.

Duped by a big hairy sneezing dog and a bird.

To make me feel a bit better one of the locals said later that day that with all the pieces added together (as above) he’d have thought exactly the same.  I also met a big burly Harley Davidson motorbiker afterwards who said he’d spent a terrifying night, on his ride to Alaska, in his tent, convinced a bear was outside.  It turned out to be an oversize Alsatian (a brown German Shepherd).

On an even more serious note, I found out a day or so later that there really WAS a Mountain Lion spotted in the same valley recently.  Alaska is hardcore.  Still feel embarrassed though.  Whats that Bryan Ferry song? “Imagination…”, well, it seems mine was running wiiiii-ld!

Dot Lake, AK, US - Shampoo Advert for Moose

The rest of this part of the ride (after a few lovely days in Fairbanks catching up with friends and resupplying) commenced with unrelenting, seemingly endless rain, soaking me to my skin, followed by day after day after day of hot weather regularly in the high 20s (celcius) and recently pushing high 3os.  I’ve had a shredded tyre, no bike shops for the entire way (thanks again Josh & Nicole for helping me source the second-hand spare in Delta Junction), a totally unfazed bull moose submerging himself in a lake to next to my tent, been I’m sure on the verge of heatstroke at times, the pleasure of misty early morning starts alongside glassy lakes, improving fitness and knees, more resupply options and fewer of the huge climbs (for now!).  More and more lovely people along the way have wanted to help, provide somewhere to stay in future and have a nice chat.  Sometimes the days have been hard (the heat has been just intense at times and I’m currently demonstrating a particularly fetching ‘rainbow tan’ where I’ve had my sleeves rolled to varying heights on varying days).  But, I’ve had music (Charles_96 my MP3 holds over 6,700 songs and has a little set of speakers!), I’m reading more and I think, starting to get into the ‘swing of things’…maybe!

And of course, I made it across Alaska!  Into Canada! Yukon!  I passed the settlement of Snag (the coldest place in North America at -63c, where Vostok, Antarctica holds the record at -89.2!), was allowed to take my bear-spray over the border (was previously told it would not be possible) and 2 days ago, after a month of cycling in a vacuum in terms of other touring cyclists going my way I met 4, together, Ward, Jacky, Adam and Tim and we’ve been cycling together for the last few days which has been great  I even met Ward and Jacky as I left the Dalton last month, when they were cycling to the Artic Circle!  Small world.

Whitehorse is nice, if a little surreal after having had much smaller towns for a few weeks.  The campsite we’re on is chilled and the mosquitoes (which have recently been awful) are so so.  I plan to head with Ward and Jacky (From the Benches of the World) for a while but we’ll keep in touch with Adam and Tim as they continue their ride to Tierra del Fuego, Argentina in support of Autism awareness (Adventure for Autism).

(I’m camping at a mixture of RV Parks, campgrounds, lay-bys / pull-outs and in Dot Lake the back garden of the Postmaster!)

Oh, and I get wound up on a regular basis whenever there is a dog nearby: “Jon, watch out for that Mountain Lion!”.  Seriously, I continue to be careful and am happy to be here   Onwards.  I hope you’re all doing well.

(Postscript: in my childhood of the 1980s Blue Peter had a dog, called…’Goldie’)

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