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New (used) bikes for our next adventure
Back in Portland, Dallas and I spent a few days recovering from our travels from Alaska. We needed to get moving though, before the weather turned cold and rainy. It was apparently already too late to miss the rain, so after 2 rest days, we started to get serious about our next move. Dallas purchased an almost new Kona Honkytonk from our friend Alyssa, and I found an excellent deal on a GT Wheels 4 Life Peace tour bike on Craigslist. The former owner of my new steed had just finished riding across the US with it – you can see her blog here: www.missionusa2013.blogspot.com
On Friday, Dallas caught up with family in Oregon City while I ran with our friend Kelly in Forest Park. I spent that weekend testing my bike out on some of John Benenate’s team rides. It’s heavy compared to everyone’s road bikes, but it will definitely get me out of Portland. After spending Saturday and Sunday cycling in the rain, Dallas joined me for Tuesday and Wednesday evening group runs organized by other Skora ambassadors. There’s definitely enough resources to stay active all week in Portland.
My plan was to wait for a few sunny days in a row (which could be weeks here), and get as far south as possible before the rain hits again. We got lucky on Thursday afternoon when the sun came out (and we got to see our friend Kristina, from Sockeye, who had just arrived in Portland the night before).
Hoping to leave Friday, we hurried to get everything we needed together for another long bike tour. Halfway through the day, we decided we wouldn’t be ready and would leave on Saturday instead. Saturday morning came, and we still had a few last minute things to pack and adjust. By Saturday afternoon, we were still not quite ready. Hopefully we haven’t wasted our only two sunny days in Portland. We definitely plan on biking out Sunday morning!
The plan is to head south as far as Eugene together. Then, I may cut west to the coast and ride down the Pacific Coast Highway. Dallas is planning to continue towards Crater Lake (hopefully the National Park will be open again by the time he gets there) and south to visit his dad in Ashland before meeting up with me again in San Francisco. The goal is to get to San Francisco by October 19th. Keep checking back for more frequent updates along the way!
Guide Training
riding back from camping in Dyea
Training started on May 1st, and for the first week or so, all of us learned an incredible amount about Skagway, Coastal Temperate Rainforests, local flora and fauna, and glaciers, among other things. When we weren’t actively training to be bicycle tour guides, we were participating in other activities aimed at welcoming and orienting us for our first summer in Skagway. We went camping in Dyea, a town that began as a small summer fishing camp for the local Tlingits, boomed to about 20,000 people at the height of the gold rush, and then became a ghost town shortly after completion of construction of the railroad from Skagway to Dawson City. We hiked some of the Chilkoot Trail and rafted down the Taiya river with another tour company. We went on a bike ride through the Northwest sliver of British Columbia and into the Yukon Territory to Carcross. We were given an exam with 30 questions to answer in detail and return a week later. When possible, we ran and explored some of the nearby trails in an attempt to train for the upcoming Skagway Marathon. Most of the trails were still too icy or covered with snow. Dallas and I had very little time to relax, and practically no time to write or talk to friends and family back home.
Me, Zabeth, Kristina, Kelly and Kyle cycling into the Yukon Territory
Training has finally ceased, and all of us new guides have been slowly easing into the routine. Cruise ships are starting to dock regularly at one of the three docks. One amazing thing about this is that Skagway sits right at the end of the Lynn Canal, which is the deepest and longest fjord in North America. The mountains around here, which reach heights of 7000 feet, rise right up from the sea, and the 1800ft deep canal allows cruise ships to pull right up to the docks. In Newport, cruise ships would anchor in the middle of the bay and people would be shuttled to the shore on small boats called tenders. At the peak of tourism season, we will be getting 4-6 cruise ships in town daily, with fewer on the weekends. The town, which only has about 800 residents year-round and 2000 during the summer, increases 10-fold during the day while all the cruise ship tourists are walking about. While Dallas and I have mixed feelings about them, these cruise ships are vital to Skagway’s economy.
running in Dyea
One great thing about living here is the amount of outdoor activities and available hiking trails just out our back door. The local backcountry outfitter’s store has a summer trail challenge, and I’m excited to hike or run all 12 of the trails on the list. The most challenging will be the historic Chilkoot Trail, which in its entirety is 33 miles long and climbs 3500 feet in elevation. It was once a Tlingit trading route, where natives would hike to trade their fish (Hooligan) oils with the Tagish natives of the interior for furs to stay warm and red cedar to build kayaks. When gold was found outside of Dawson City in 1896, people flocked to Dyea to hike this same trail. The trail ends at Lake Bennett, where people would then have to build a boat to float another 500 miles up the Yukon River to where the gold was found.
hiking along the Chilkoot Trail with (top to bottom) Holly, Kelly, Zabeth, Dallas, Kristina and Kyle
Another great thing about this region is the air quality. Lichens grow in abundance here, which is a true testament to the cleanliness of the air since they receive their nutrients from the air and are so sensitive to air pollution. Also, bicycling is a very common form of transportation, probably because the town is only 5 blocks wide and 22 blocks long. For a school that has only 60-70 people (k-12), there are more bike racks than the train station in Providence. This certainly helps the air quality. Today, while driving up to the summit for the start of one of our tours, we passed a group of high school students from White Horse, who were cycling back. They were in the midst of a 15 mile uphill stretch along the Klondike Highway that climbs to 3292ft in elevation from sea level. I was impressed (and a little jealous).
from a trail high above, Dallas watches the departure of a cruise ship
The only negative thing I can say about living in SE Alaska is that because we are so isolated, our food is expensive. Once a week, a barge comes in with all of the town’s supplies for the week. Groceries are not only expensive, but by the end of the week there is really not much to choose from. Dallas and I ordered some dry goods from Amazon, but produce and dairy are tough to come by without a high cost. Because of shipping costs, pretty much everything is pricier by at least 25 cents per pound. I’m looking forward to June and July, when we start getting more edible plants in the forest. Since learning about all of these berries, mushrooms, spruce tips and other edibles, my roommates and I plan to forage as much as possible in the upcoming months.
Arriving in Skagway
View from the ferry between Juneau and Skagway
We were both so tired, Dallas and I didn’t talk to anyone on the ferry. I was hoping to check out Haines, since the ferry was stopping there for two hours and Christy had told us it was a nice town, but when the ferry docked, I read a road sign pointing 4 miles to Haines. With nothing of interest within walking distance during our short layover, I went back to sleep on the bench next to Dallas. Neither of us were fully awake to appreciate the grandeur view for more than a few minutes before drifting off again, and I didn’t fully wake up until we were a few minutes from landing in Skagway, our destination for the summer.
Scott, Dillon, Kristina, Kellee and Zabeth – some of our fellow guides and housemates for the summer
Dustin and Scott greeted us when we stepped off the boat, and 4 other new guides who had been on the same ferry joined us a few minutes later. We all managed to load our bags into the Sockeye Cycle Van, and Dustin drove our belongings to the house while Scott led the rest of us by foot. It was only a few blocks to the shop, and walking felt good after lounging around on the ferry for 7 hours (three of the other guides had boarded the ferry in Bellingham, and had been on board for 4 days).
View of Smugglers Cove from Yakutania Point
Although it was clear and sunny that day, the announcement of an avalanche having recently blocked the white passage to the Yukon (pretty much the only way out of Skagway by land) reminded us that it was still very much winter in Alaska. Scott, the shop manager who had previously been a mechanic for a tour company in Italy, provided us with numerous and entertaining stories. He had arrived three weeks earlier and told us about his first day and days leading up to now, when it seemed he was finally able to talk to some other people who were seeing Skagway for the first time. I think we all shared his wonder in what we’ve gotten ourselves into here.
Dallas, standing at Yakutania Point on the day of our arrival in Skagway
The owner of the company, Thom, greeted us when we arrived at our new summer home, the two stories above the Sockeye Cycle bike shop. Then he hurried off to drive to Whitehorse, the nearest city, to buy supplies for the house and our welcome barbecue. Because of the avalanche, he had to take an alternate route to Whitehorse, and it was uncertain if he would even make it back the next day for the barbecue.
Dallas and I will be sharing this space for the next four months with 10 other guides.
Missing: Two Touring Bicycles
I write this post with both sadness and hopefulness.
On our last day in New Orleans last year (in May of 2012) we celebrated by going out to a bar. Our bikes were just outside and a few doors down. When I went to check on them, I noticed someone standing over them. As I approached him, I realized the man was attempting to steal our bikes by twisting a broom handle that he had stuck in between the cable lock and the bike frames. I confronted the man, who looked both drunk and homeless.
“What are you doing with our bikes?”
“These bikes? These aren’t your bikes.” He lied.
“Ummm…yes. That’s my bike, and that’s my helmet!” I retorted, pointing at the helmet that he was wearing backwards on his grimy head of long, tangled grey hair.
He finally decided against messing with me any further and stumbled away.
Having my bike stolen was one of my biggest fears about living in New Orleans. We made it until our last night without incidence, and I was lucky enough to divert the one feeble attempt that was made to take our bikes from us. Unfortunately, it was in Portland that our bicycles were successfully stolen. Unless of course, our bikes had overheard Dallas considering buying a new bike and decided to run away together before I got the same idea. I can only hope they are together and being treated respectfully, wherever they are, and that they are not too afraid.
Opus Largo with green frame, brown handlebar tape and saddle and army green handlebar bags, and BianchiVolpe with black frame, Terry Liberty saddle and white handlebar tape – both bikes have steel frames and spd pedals.
We were on our way back home from visiting Dallas’s mom in Oregon City, and stopped at REI. Our bikes were locked up together on the bike rack outside of REI, and we left them alone for maybe an hour, while we browsed the store and ate a quick meal next door. Walking back to the bike rack, I did not see any wheels sticking out. That’s when my heart sank in my chest, and we saw the cleanly cut lock on the ground by the rack. Fortunately, Portland does have good public transportation, and we were able to get home within 40 minutes and only one connection from the MAX to a bus. But I felt a bit of shamefulness having to walk to the MAX in our bike shoes, helmet in hand, with no bikes. I started thinking of all the things that I could have done differently to prevent our bikes from being stolen, and I felt as if it were my fault. We shouldn’t have stopped at REI. We should have taken the ride that Dallas’s step-father had offered us back home. We should have locked our bikes somewhere else, or gone back to check on them between shopping and eating. But in reality, there’s no way I could have known, and of course it’s too late to change what has happened.
Dallas and I are looking on craigslist, ebay, pawn shops and bike shops in hopes of recovering our lost bicycles. But in the end, we cannot complete our goals without bikes, and we may just have to break down and get new ones. This gives us an opportunity for something good to come out of it, and perhaps we can strike up a partnership with a bicycle company that would be interested in sponsoring us. We are totally open to ideas. In our current circumstance, we will probably end up riding whatever we can find on a budget.
A few months away from rainy Portland
On the eve of my departure from Portland I lay awake thinking about everything that has happened since our arrival. I was feeling incredibly sad that I would be leaving Dallas for two weeks, but at the same time I was excited to go back to New Orleans and hopefully recover a bit financially. My alarm clock rang to wake me up before I ever fell asleep. It was going to be a tiresome trip.
St Louis Cathedral at Jackson Square is all lit up for the Super Bowl
New Orleans was colder than I would have liked it to be, but the spirit in the city was just picking up for the Superbowl and Mardi Gras. I came just at the right time to start pedicabbing at the height of the tourist season. It did warm up considerably after a few weeks, and Dallas joined me for a month before going back to Portland. I had planned to fly back to Portland on the same day as Dallas, but I ended up passing up my flight to stay longer and enjoy a visit from my dad. My pedicab license actually expired on my birthday, so instead of pedicabbing in New Orleans, I carpooled with my friend Ryan over to Austin, where my pedicab license was still valid for another year.
Biking around Austin on a sunny day
Austin was warm and sunny during the days, but dropped to cooler temperatures once the sun disappeared for the night. I arrived a few days before SXSW, the festival that attracts thousands of people to the city each year. I didn’t want to work as hard as I had last year, but I needed to work enough to make up for the expense of being there. At this point, I had bought another plane ticket to go back to Portland and see Dallas, but it was three days before the festival ended, and I would have had to miss out on two of the best nights for pedicabbing. I also wasn’t looking forward to leaving the lovely weather to go to a place where I would be mostly alone, unemployed, and uncomfortably cold. I decided at the last minute not to take my flight, and instead stay in Austin until the end of March.
Mayan ruins of Tulum
After SXSW was over, I got in touch with my friend Dainy (D), another nomadic free spirit who showed up both in New Orleans and Newport while bouncing around between other various locations. She had been in Austin for SXSW and was planning to drive to Mexico that day with her roommate, John, from New Orleans. After thinking over her invitation for a few minutes, I decided to join them. A few hours later, the three of us were driving south in her car, headed for Monterrey. We arrived around 4am, where Perla, a couchsurfer in Monterrey, so kindly let us stay on her couches. She even made us pancakes and drove us to the airport in the morning, where we caught a discount flight to Cancun. From there, we took a bus to Playa del Carmen and spent 4 days exploring beaches, cenotes (underwater caves), and Mayan ruins in Tulum. D’s friend from Mexico City, Stephen, joined us in Playa and introduced us to some of his friends as well. Once back on the bus to the airport, D decided to stay in Mexico and actually stopped the bus driver to get off at the next stop. Back in Monterrey, John and I were met by Karina, another couchsurfer that D had arranged to host us. Being the only two ‘gringos’, she easily recognized us and took us to an awesome barbecue at her friend’s house. This was the most memorable night of my time in Mexico, since it was more authentic than eating at a restaurant in a tourist town, and the people were amazingly welcoming and friendly. I still find it amusing that Mexican meals always seem to include the same foods, and this barbecue was no exception. Tacos made with fresh corn tortillas, meat, cheese, and spicy salsa. We stayed at Karina’s house that night, and her mom fed us breakfast (similar to the barbecue, but with eggs too) the next morning before we drove back to Austin in D’s car.
Me, Karina’s mom, John, and Karina before leaving Monterrey
Driving back, the line at the border was so long, and the sun was so hot, that the car overheated and the radiator leaked. We noticed this after smelling something burning and seeing smoke rising from the hood. Mexicans are very resourceful, and there were plenty of guys walking around all the cars waiting in line, selling various goods. I kind of wanted to ask if any of them were handy with fixing overheated car engines. We eventually made it to the front of the line, but had to keep turning the engine off and back on again to move forward a space (people would cut us in line if we left more than half a car’s length of space between us and the car in front). I think border crossings should all be at the bottom of a slight decline, so cars can all turn off their engines and coast down the line. Either that, or do something to make the line move faster! The officer who inspected our car did not seem surprised that our engine had overheated, nor did he offer any help with our situation. We did manage to find a shaded area to park once we crossed into Laredo, and after letting the engine cool down I was able to refill the coolant without it leaking again. A mechanic at Sears told us that it’s very common for cars to overheat while waiting at the border. I think there has got to be a solution to prevent this from being a common occurrence.
Oldest tree in Roger Williams Park, Providence, RI
I enjoyed the warm weather and company of friends in Austin for a few more days before flying to Providence to visit family for a week. I also reconnected with some good friends from home and started to get back into a regular running routine. I finally flew to Portland at the beginning of April to be back with Dallas. Apparently the weather wasn’t so bad while I was away, but the city greeted me with cold weather and persistent rain upon my arrival. That’s just when it started to warm up in Rhode Island too!
While we were in New Orleans, Dallas and I applied for and accepted jobs as bicycle tour guides in Skagway, Alaska. We will be leaving Portland at the end of April to spend the summer in Alaska. Our plan after that is to head south by bicycle towards Patagonia, with likely stops along the way to work and recover financially.
New Connections
In four months of living in Portland, the only job that I managed to get was a temporary position as a seasonal employee for the Columbia Sportswear outlet about 3 miles from where we lived. I started working there shortly before Thanksgiving, and quickly learned that retail jobs are not for me. After the first week or so, I was grateful for the little income it provided, but I was equally grateful that it was a temporary position. The hours of walking around and being on my feet were not a problem, but the lack of intellectual stimulation and challenge that I normally seek was wearing on me. I must say that I really liked my coworkers, who were mostly outdoorsy, active, and friendly people – an important element that can make or break job satisfaction.
Knowing that my job would eventually end, but not knowing when Dallas would be ready to leave Portland, I continued to search for and apply for jobs, ranging from bicycle delivery to food service to biological research jobs. I also continued to work out, despite the dismal climate. Instead of running or bicycling outside, I was mostly cycling to the nearby community center to go swimming. I was receiving no positive feedback from the outside world regarding any of my job inquiries and was starting to lose hope about being in Portland. Then, one night after my swim, as I was getting ready to leave the community center, came a sign that maybe there was something for me in Portland afterall.
A man rolled up in a wheelchair and started talking to me as I was about to leave, complimenting me on my swimming. My reaction? Who, me?? This guy must have me confused with someone else. I’m a terrible swimmer. Surely, he can’t tell me apart from any of the other women in the pool when we’re all wearing swim caps. But he insisted that he saw me swimming laps and that I was a great swimmer. I engaged him in conversation briefly before leaving, and he revealed that he was a cycling coach with a team in Portland that rides every Sunday. He also leads rides for kids on Saturdays from the Boys and Girls Club in Northeast Portland. He sounded a lot like my friend, Dick, who started the US Open Cycling Foundation.
I told Dallas about my encounter with John Benenate when I got home, and he was intrigued as well. We agreed to meet at his house for breakfast that Saturday and join in on the kids ride to see what it was all about. When we arrived at John’s house on Saturday, we met Cody, who was cooking breakfast, and her daughter, Jasmine. John had a whole room of cycling gear and apparel that he encouraged us to pick from before we headed out in the freezing cold rain.
Cody, Jasmine, Dallas and I, at John’s house for breakfast before the kids ride
Riding in the rain
At the Boys & Girls Club, we met Tim, who was a regular on both weekend rides. Only two other kids were brave enough to show up for the 4 or 5 mile ride in the cold Portland rain. John gave Dallas, Cody, Tim and I radios to wear so we could hear him as he directed our ride from his station wagon. Jasmine, Blessing and Demario were outnumbered by “shepherds” as we all followed John through the city streets. For a stretch along the river, we rode in a paceline before heading back to the Boys & Girls Club. It was a slow, but rewarding ride, and the kids were still smiling when we made out way inside to thaw out.
This was the first ride of its kind for Dallas, and he was a natural. We both looked forward to helping out with more rides like this, and hopefully more kids. I had to work the next day, but Dallas joined John for the Sunday ride with his race team, Cyclisme. They rode about 40 miles through cold temperatures and intermittent downpours. Seeing Dallas’s refreshed face after work that evening, I could tell that these rides would provide a spark of energy for us throughout the depressing winter.
Dallas rides with the racing team
My schedule at Columbia seemed to exactly mirror Dallas’s schedule, in that I had to work during all the times that Dallas did not. We never really got a day off together, and I never got to ride with John’s team, aside from a Saturday women’s ride that he put together specifically taking my schedule into consideration. I was relieved to hear that my last day of work would be January 5th, but my outlook for earning any income was bleak. Spending my weekdays alone in a home that houses 6 other people is a lonely feeling, and having to go to work when my best friend is actually home was wearing on my psyche. I had spent more of my savings than I was comfortable with and started to think about going back to New Orleans to recover some of my losses. The Super Bowl was going to be this season, right in the middle of Mardi Gras, and my pedicab license was free to renew – I just had to pick it up at the taxicab bureau.
Happy New Year, from Portland!
I didn’t have the time or money to visit my family for the holidays, but I did get to meet Dallas’s family on his father’s side. Unfortunately, we both spent half of our time in California crippled with food poisoning. Shortly after returning to rainy Portland, I decided to go back to New Orleans. I would go for six weeks, and Dallas promised to visit me for a week while I was down there. However, a few days after I bought my ticket, Dallas, overcome with sadness, bought a one-way ticket to New Orleans. He would meet me two weeks after I arrived, and we would stay until we figured out our next move. I would have liked to train with John’s cycling team, but the timing wasn’t right. I am glad to have connected with him though, and plan to ride more seriously the next time I find myself in Portland (hopefully not during the winter!).
Nomadic Cycling 