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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Seward Glacier Cruise - ITS A HUMPBACK WHALE!

Courtesy of www.SladeRide.com…

(Gallery at bottom of post)

With my legs somewhat rested, bike (Charles) stored in Fairbanks (thanks John) I set off in the middle of June for a 2 week driving tour of Southern Alaska a friend from Liverpool / New Jersey, Lee.  A CAR! NO PEDALLING!

To give you an idea of the sheer vastness that is Alaska, we cover 2000 miles…and only see maybe an eighth of the country!  But it was a great 2 weeks (thanks Lee) and needed after the previous 2 of hard cycling.

First stop Anchorage for some local wildlife AKA nightlife – if you ever go to ‘Darwin’s Theory’ bar on a Friday night, prepare yourself for a rootin’ tootin’ raucous time.  Lets just say that whilst we didn’t get any saloon brawls, the frontier spirit is alive and well in Alaska!

Denali Nat Pk - "Did someone say 'Gentle Ben'? I LOVE Gentle Ben! He's a bear's bear!"

We then head south and begin our ‘Grande Fjord-tour’, making Seward where we take a fantastic ‘Glacier Cruise’ spotting Orca and Humpback whales just off the boat.  Amazing.  We also do a quick walk up to see ‘Exit Glacier’ and the ‘Harding Icefield’ at 3500 feet and I get my first photo of a Grizzly (with cub) who are about 400 feet (and moving closer!) above us as we walk along the trail.  Really special.

Next stop Ninilchik toward Homer on the Kenai Penninsular and Lee’s first night in his ‘SAS Black Ops’ tent.  That night (well it was 10pm but still daylight!) we saw our first Bald Headed Eagle about 20 feet away atop a tree – it didn’t move and the 2 of us just stood there staring.  Wow.

Now Homer, specifically the ‘Spit’ (connected by an isthmus – oooh la-dee-da!) allowed us to attempt to make the biggest fire in history on the beach campsite.  At the point that the not insubstantial tree trunk caught and the grasses by the tents did too (the flames of the fire licking 10 feet across the beach in the wind) we decided to call it a night but not before some lovely camp-cooked food.  No salmonella but hair was removed from respective fingers whilst extracting food from the ‘furnace’ (who needs utensils when you have twigs and hands!  Ray Mears / Bear Grylls would be proud).

If you want to see Eagles this is the place – we saw mid-air battles for food and until a few years ago the Eagle Lady would bring hundreds to a spot just feet from our tent.

“You buy gifts I give you photo” she said with a cheeky smile which belied her senior years.  Whilst I’m not sure I could really make use of a 16 piece Russian Doll, a ladle, postcards of Lake Baikal, an Ushanka, a vodka Urn, faux Faberge eggs nor a pink shirt with tassles, she was quite a fascinating character, Nina in Nikolaevsk and certainly made us very welcome in her cafe.  Lee, how exactly did I end up wearing the pink shirt?

(if you hadn’t already guessed, there are quite a few Russian settlements in this area)

A quick trip to ‘Hope’ (cute, quaint, quiet), a stop to check out the ‘running of the Salmon’ on the Kenai river (HUNDREDS of people fishing on one stretch) and we make it over the other-wordly Glenn Highway (huge chasm-like valleys shrouded in thick pea-soup mist which no doubt hid dinosaurs).  And then came the rain, for nearly a week!

Valdez - Columbia Glacier Kayaking, cold, wet but there are ICEBERGS!

Valdez.  I really really like Valdez (yes, of the oil spill).  Mountains 7000 feet high veer up straight from the edge of the Fjords, no messing, none of this beach rubbish, just, up, straight up.  Apparently this is the place in the world for Heli-skiing with slopes of 60-70 degrees holding snow due its uniquely damp-make-up, a consequence of the juxtaposition of sea and and huge beasts of mountains.

Oh, and for such a little town (maybe 3000, which for Alaska is quite big) it has a really really good nightlife in an ‘edge of the world’ kind of way, a case in point being the response I got from one of the locals when I saw a mass of people on the floor in the dim distance of the dancefloor: “Are they playing Twister?”, “No, they’re just dancing”.  Cool.

(the record in one year for snow on the Pass above the town is just under 90 feet, yes FEET!)

Icebergs, Harper Seals, Sea Otters, more Eagles.  In a dual-kayak.  Rain.  Paddle.  Rain.  Yup, kayaked around Icebergs off the Columbia Glacier.  Bit wet (read ‘soddingly sodden’) but great.  If I do it again I either need a bigger kayak or shorter legs though!

A quick (goodness that Chevvy Impala could shift) scoot across the unpaved (sorry hire car company) Denali Highway spying Moose and we make Denali National Park.  Thats Denali AKA Mount Mckinley, North America’s highest mountain at around 20,000 feet which is a good few thousand feet higher than anything in the ‘lower 48′ (states).

Denali (“the high one” in Athabascan) has a brutal reputation as its so tall and so far north.  Temperatures regularly dip below -50c in winter, something rarely encountered in the Himalaya.  The first team to climb it in winter (most do it in May-June) estimated that with windchill they once got caught out in a storm at -100c.  To be ‘holed-up’ in a snow-cave for 2-3 weeks to ‘wait-out’ a storm is not unknown.  Finally, its got the tallest rock face in the world, some 14,000 feet (climbed in the 60s in a feat years ahead of its time) and unlike the Himalaya which ‘start’ (as far as climbing is concerned) a mile or two up, the base is at 700 feet.  Ouch.

Denali Nat Pk - MOUNT MCKINLEY (aka Denali) SIGHTED! (tallest moontin in N America at ~20,000 feet)

Bears, bears, bears, bears, bears.  Lots of bears.  Daddy bears, mummy bears and little baby bears.  We must see 10 in a day from our bus through the national park.  They are clearly on commission however, since they know how to perform for the camera.  Great though.  We also spy a Lynx (very rare apparently – no picture, too quick), Caribou, Dall Sheep and Fox.  No wolves

And on the 3rd day (in ‘Denali’) we see the mountain (it was cloudy and raining before).  Even from a distance its huge.  I like it.

Back to Fairbanks (I’m starting to feel like a bit of a local there now) and on the way hear the news about M Jackson.

I’ve just cleaned Charles and am in the process of packing up ready for tomorrow…when I head SW toward Canada, first stop, Tok.

I hope you’re all well – thanks every so much for your continued support and comments and sorry that I haven’t had a chance to reply to them all

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