From August 23rd to September 10th, 2024, Jerry and Odette rode a couple of loops on the tandem in Denmark and visited Copenhagen with Will.

• why Denmark

Odette and I had talked for years about a trip to Scandinavia.  She’s never seen the northern lights and I’m curious about the fjords.  Last winter we started thinking about another european tandem trip, maybe starting from Berlin.  We thought about riding to Munich and maybe on into Italy.  We thought about Austria and Poland.  There is an established route from Berlin to Hamburg and a lot of options to loop back from the Baltic coast.  Eventually we realized that we needed to look at what we could get from a commercial tour agency, and the on-line places were selling trips on the Baltic coast from Hamburg, but not from Berlin.  If we were going to visit Denmark / Sweden it made more sense to start in Copenhagen than in Berlin.  So… we agreed to arrange a two-week ride in Denmark followed by a week off the bike in Copenhagen.  That would be all new territory for us and it would meet Odette’s requirements about distance and elevation during the bike portion.  We ended up settling on two off-the-shelf loops from ActiveScandinvia which let us see a lot of the island of Zealand but not much of the rest of Denmark:

• boot story digression

A year before the pandemic I gave up on boot covers and gaiters and bought a pair of Louis Garneau biking boots.  They had a Boa closure covered by a zippered gusset covered by a velcro flap.  They were warm, they were fairly dry, and there weren’t a lot of pieces to keep track of.   About three months after I bought them the Boas stopped releasing.  (Later I figured out that the ratchet mechanism  was fine and that I’d kinked the wire where it exited the guide-noodle.)  I could only open up the boot to take it off by pulling really hard on the gusset and eventually I broke the wire.  I knotted it and it worked well enough, but when the second one broke I pulled out the Boas and the wires and riveted in old fashioned boot eyelets.  As lace-ups the boots worked just fine (the snowboard boot laces I used looked like they were made for them) and I got three seasons of daily winter use.  This spring the zippers started to fail and the boots just felt wrong when the zippers gaped open.

I went shopping for new bike boots, looking for something without Boas.  (Odette has a pair of Shimano lace-up M-5 boots  that she likes, but they are six or eight years old and don’t seem to be available anymore.)  I decided to get a pair of Shimano EX-900 boots with Boas because they were marketed for touring and claimed to be designed more for hiking than for biking.

They come with two Boas on each foot – kind of doubling down since I started out looking for zero Boas.  They’re really light, about the same as regular bike shoes and much lighter than my climbing boots or even than my old Nashbar bike sandals.  They don’t have leather, the uppers look like really short pile carpet.  I liked them.

In preparation for the trip to Copenhagen Odette monitored the weather there and got increasingly anxious about rain.  We both packed full rain gear and planned to take our boots, but the question remained about what other shoes to  take?  I decided that the boots were the only bike shoes I needed and that since I wouldn’t have brown leather low-cut bike shoes I could bring brown leather low-cut street shoes.  The boots worked great for biking – we didn’t really get rained on so I didn’t test the water proof claims, but I didn’t have any complaints on the bike.   They were also great for walking – I wore them in a dozen towns and for a couple of days in Copenhagen and I walked a bunch and was really happy. The first day out I wore them with a pair of below-the-ankle socks and got a hot spot on my heel but I think that would have happened with any shoes.  I might not select them for really hot weather, but for touring I think that they’re a really good choice.

• tire story digression

Last year, in preparation for Portugal, we got the tandem serviced.  It had Schwalbe Marathon tires on it that had seen maybe 3,000 miles and which had lots of tread left.  The shop suggested new tires and I said I thought that the Schwalbes still had some life left in them.  When we picked up the bike after the service, Odette, true to form, wanted new tires and I didn’t want to argue with her in front of the shop guys so I said OK.  They  didn’t have Schwalbe Marathons in stock so they ordered them and we made a special trip back down the Leschi to get them installed.  (I made them fish the old ones out of the dumpster for me and I’m still riding them on my Fuji.)

This year the tires on the tandem also had about 3,000 miles on them, but the rear one looked “squared off” so I didn’t object when the shop suggested new tires.   They installed Vittoria RideArmor which were a lot lighter than the Schwalbes but promoted as very puncture resistant so I figured we’d be okay.

On the ride to Helsingør (the first real day of the tour) we got drizzled on and in the middle of a shower we realized that we had a flat!  I don’t exactly like changing tires in the rain, but I’ve done it a lot of times and it isn’t really a big deal.  However, this time I was simply unable to get the bead to unseat.  I guess that it was something about being tubeless ready but the tires just wouldn’t detach. I finally resorted to laying the wheel flat on the ground and standing on my toes next to the rim which broke it loose.  I found a granule of glass – not a sharp shard – in the casing and a matching puncture in the tube.  I replaced the tube and was pleased that it went on easier than it came off.  Unfortunately the standard length valve stem was a little shorter than the depth of the rim would have indicated and it was difficult to get our frame pump to latch on securely.  I got it inflated enough to ride and we made it to the hotel.  The next day the rear wheel felt soft so I pumped it some more and then obsessed for the rest of the loop about low pressure and puncture resistance.  I didn’t go to the trouble of swapping out the tube for one with a longer stem (under the theory that “if it ain’t broke don’t fix it.”  (I figured that I’d wait for a flat at which point I’d have to take the tire off anyway.)  We got back to the hotel in Copenhagen without issue and I borrowed a floor pump and, still without switching tubes, pumped the tire all the way up.  (I had a gauge that I carried with me for the whole tour but I didn’t bother to dig it out and just relied on my fingers.)  There were no tire issues during the second loop, but when I got home and wanted to reassemble the bike I couldn’t get the rear tire off the rim! to install a tube with a longer stem.  My toe jam technique didn’t work at home.  I broke two tire levers and pinch-flatted a couple of tubes but I finally got the tire onto the rim and it now has a tube that has a longer stem.  I think I’ll buy new tires before we go on any long rides.  Now I need to patch a bunch of tubes…

• tour agency digression

The first indication that this was not your usual bike tour outfit was when they tried to tell us that the hotel wouldn’t store our bike cases (“liability reasons”) and insisted that we were locked in to a contract even if the case storage was a dealbreaker.  Odette called the hotel directly and the problem turned out to be the agencies imagination.  They didn’t do one-off routes – their only suggestion was to pick two of their standard routes and ride them sequentially.  They gave us GPX files, a printed tour book and a digital tour book for the first loop.  They also gave us an app with points of interest and turn-by-turn.  They insisted that we couldn’t have anything but the GPX files for the second loop, but actually gave  us a printed tour book as well.  Most of the time they got our luggage to our hotel in the early afternoon but when we came to count on that they didn’t deliver until dinner time.  In the end, it’s a case of “you get what you pay for.”  We thought that the cost of the tour package (routes, hotels and luggage transfer) was reasonable in Danish Kroner – but it was actually quoted in Swedish Kroner which made it much less expensive.

I kept telling Odette that this was the consequence of dealing with a big company instead of the “sole practioner” places we used in Spain and Portugal.  She is correct in pointing out that having the local rep be the person who drives around moving luggage kind of defeats that argument.  She  thinks that there were actually two agencies involved, one in Sweden and its’ parent in Austria.  (ActiveScandanivia and Radreise, respectively.)  I suspect that somebody just dropped the ball on the second loop.

• colonialism  / slavery digression

So,  last year in Amsterdam we noticed how preoccupied the  Dutch seemed to be about slavery and the role the Netherlands played in colonialism and the slave trade.  (Every museum we went into seemed to have an apology and to acknowledge that the wealth and cultural heritage on display came, in part,  from human trafficking.)  Then, in Portugal, it was interesting to see how the museums there put a distance between their colonialist history and the present day.  (There was no denying the slave trade, but no apologies and a subtext that there was an equivalence between life under authoritarian rulers and life in a colony.)   Maybe this is somehow connected with our impression that Portugal was more like third world country?   Danish museums seem to pretty much skip over the issue.  There apparently isn’t an automatic connection between colonialism and slavery in the Danish experience – the colony in Greenland was about resource extraction,  the one in India was about trade (likely including the slave trade, but we won’t dwell on that) and the colonies in the Caribbean, those got turned over to the US.  The vikings raided English and Baltic villages for slaves  (thrall) and much of the Asian and Turkish treasure on display must have been a product of the slave trade. Slavery happened in Denmark as recently as in the US (up until the 1850s.)  Perhaps the Dutch feel guiltier because they were more successful?  There is an opportunity here for someone to write a book about blind spots.    Meanwhile it’s amusing to note the little oblique references that are almost hidden away in the Museum placards.

• the flights

We flew Delta / KLM to Amsterdam and then on to Copenhagen and vice versa.  We checked our luggage all the way through at the first airport.  We had priority status thanks to Will.  We got to the airport in Seattle quite early and spent a couple of hours in the lounge.  We went through customs in Amsterdam and had plenty of time for our transfer.  I started to use the fully reclining bed position but got claustrophobic and reverted to the medium recliner.  I brought my wireless headphones and listened to music the whole flight.  We got to the airport in Copenhagen way too early and had trouble figuring out which desk we needed to line up for.  Once we got situated the process went very quickly and we had a couple of hours to kill at the gate.  We both checked our backpacks in addition to our bike cases.  We only had an hour and a half for the transfer in Amsterdam and we had to go through passport control but it worked.  Our luggage was nearly the first on the belt in Seattle, the Customs line was short,  and the Lyft ride home was uneventful.  (The driver was Venezuelan and wanted to warn us about the dangers of socialism in the US.)

• the loops

We got to Copenhagen at lunchtime and put the bike together that afternoon in the hotel courtyard.  There was no secure storage so I took the front wheel off and locked it and the frame to a low bike rack while also putting a U-lock through the rear triangle and rim.  (It was less of a risk than it sounds since there were probably 50 rental bikes also lined up in the courtyard.)  The hotel had two storage rooms that were accessible to anyone with a room key – we saw some full size bike cases in the storage and felt better about pushing the agency on that issue.  We had dinner at a restaurant close to the hotel called Sanchez.  The next day was a layover so we rode the first six or eight miles of our Day 1 route as an out-and-back.  Central Copenhagen is busy and not a simple grid and despite the extensive bike network and GPX files we found it hard to navigate. We had some arguments about curb cuts and advance warnings, but for the most part the city riding was out of the way quickly and the more suburban riding was easy.  We had lunch at a neighborhood place on our route and dinner at restaurant called Gorilla in the meatpacking district.

The first day of the tour was cloudy and moist.  Odette wore rain pants.  The route was flat and without too many navigational issues.  We lost some time dealing with the flat tire but got to the Louisiana Modern Art Museum before lunch.  This was a really good museum with an outdoor sculpture garden and a couple of temporary exhibits.  We got to our hotel early in the afternoon. The GPX files took us to the ferry and the tour book expected us to use Google Maps to get to our hotel.  We understood that we needed to get across the railroad tracks and found the station we were looking for, only to discover that to cross under the tracks meant going down and up a flight of stairs.   It wasn’t that bad (some of the locals laughed at us) and we rode on up the hill to the hotel where we followed the signs for the bikeway.  We continued up the hill and couldn’t figure out where the entrance was – we ended up cutting through an apartment parking lot  because we could see the hotel building on the other side of a fence.  We took a dirt path that should have led to the back side of the hotel, but there was a fence between us and it.  We walked the bike a block or so on the trail before admitting that we were in the wrong place and heading back to the street, riding back down the hill, and taking the driveway next to the bikeway signs.  The hotel was nice, no bike parking but we could lean it up by the front door and immobilize it with bike locks.  Our room was great and the restaurant was very good.

The next day we rode to the ferry (avoiding the stairs under the railroad track) and rode a loop in Sweden.  Helsingborg is a relatively big town with impressive buildings and wide streets.  We started by riding up the coast to Höganäs – impressive views, sandy beaches and lots of cozy little houses.  Then we cut inland for maybe five miles and rode a big road back to Helsingborg.  When we got back to the Ferry terminal Odette was certain that I was heading to the wrong booth and got us into an exit lane and the attendant came out and redirected us.  Odette still couldn’t believe that we needed follow the bike signs and got us into a lane behind the wrong camper and the attendant had to come out and intervene once again.  The third time was the charm and we were the last vehicle onto the boat, just barely squeezing on and parking at the back of the pack.  I stayed with the bike for the sailing while Odette went up to the passenger cabin. Back in Denmark we found yet another way to the hotel and were not fooled by the bikeway signs at the entrance.   We ate at the hotel again and both the service and the food were as good the second night as the first.  When we left the next morning we forgot a pair of water bottles advertising Bike Holland.  Odette was certain she had also forgotten her underwear, but she later realized that it was all right there.

Third day we rode up the Danish coast a little past Munkerup and then cut inland to Hillerød.  The ride on the coast was pretty but we encountered a bunch of construction on the road.  The ride to Hillerød was mainly forest / farm land and was beautiful.  It was, however, mainly unpaved and neither of us had really anticipated ten miles on gravel.  The farm segments were more difficult than the forest segments.  There were a lot of railroad crossings – and a couple of trains – evidently commuter rail not freight.  The route eventually took us through the gardens of Frederiksborg castle which we returned to for a visit.  (There were lots of paintings of guys who looked like Frank Zappa, I was more impressed by the gardens.)  We had some navigational issues getting to the hotel which turned out to be a Best Western.  They had us park the bike beside the main entrance.  Odette was looking forward to dinner because the hotel restaurant was highly rated.  In fact, it was what you’d expect at a Best Western.

Fourth day we rode to Roskilde.  Much less gravel.  Still pretty country with big fields of grain and leafy vegetables.  On the way into town we stopped at the Viking Ship Museum for lunch and to see the boats.  The tour book took us to the Cathedral but we didn’t go in.  I sat with the bike while Odette tried to figure out how to get to our hotel.  I noticed that the housing for the disc brake was out of the cable stop and in the process of fixing it the bike fell over and put a scrape (and another dent) in the top tube.  It also stabbed my knuckle.  I got the brake back in order and realized that I probably ought to think about having the bike repainted – it’s been over ten years!  The hotel was a Scandia, they had covered (but not secure) parking and a decent restaurant.

On the last day of the first loop we rode back to Copenhagen.  We basically rode over to the coast and then followed the water back to the city.  We found  sand on the trail for a ways, but the ride was mostly paved.  There were some impressive underpasses and bridges by the airport but we managed the navigation in good form. We saw a lot of people in swimsuits (but not too many in the water.)  The route into Copenhagen was much easier than it had been on the outbound leg.  We stayed in same hotel (Absalon) and ate at the fish bar in the meatpacking district.

We had a two day lay over in Copenhagen so the next morning we rode a loop around Amager Island.  Odette selected the route from the public routes on Ride With GPS because it was about 30 miles long and because it was flat.  We found it to be both.   It revisited the final leg of our ride the day before – which would see again on our way out of town for the second loop.  It also had a generous helping of airport and related activities.  However, the bottom end of the island was spectacular.  We rode for several miles along a seawall that was pristine and wild (Odette thinks she saw otters.)  The villages on the return segment were picturesque.   We grabbed lunch at Tivoli Gardens and visited the Rosenborg Castle (more Zappa look alikes but this time with jewels.)  Dinner was at a place called NR.30 which left me with absolutely no impression other than remembering that it was in a former butcher shop.

The next morning we walked all the way from our hotel to Refshaleøen, cutting through Christiania on the way.  Christiania would likely be more interesting later in the day.  We sat on a bench and watched floatplanes and boats and bungie jumping from a crane.  We visited the Copenhagen Contemporary Art Museum where we saw an exhibit about light and color that was pretty disorienting.  The guide was amused by my boots / Boas.  We had lunch at the Refshaleøen food court and then walked back to the København Museum.  I connected with this museum as much as with anything in the city – the exhibit about small business on Amager Island was really on point and we sat through a documentary about squatters and alternative communities that put Christiania into perspective.

We started the second loop by returning to Amager Island and the complicated underpasses and bridges from our way into town a couple of days earlier.  We rode the sand along the beach again but didn’t wait for the Arken Museum to open.  In Køge our hotel was outside of town, beyond the miniature city attraction.  It did offer secure bike parking.  The hotel restaurant wasn’t open either for lunch or for dinner.  We walked to the harbor area and bought grapes and cookies in a grocery which we ate in the square.  The center of town is really attractive with a lot of handsome buildings.  The harbor area was where the action was, through.  We ate there in the evening at a place improbably called “Bossa Nova.”

The next day we rode to Næstved,  This was the day with the most climbing and the most miles of the whole trip.  Just before town we saw a herd of deer, presumably on a game farm.  We got to Næstved at lunch time and stowed the bike before eating at a restaurant a couple of blocks away.  (The bike storage involved passing through an elevator with doors on both sides to access a garage full of spare furniture.)  The town had a lot of impressive old buildings and twisty cobbled streets – we walked it twice.  There were half a dozen big churches that we didn’t go into.  Hotel Kirstine, where we stayed, featured a very nice modern room and a huge ancient lobby.  We ate dinner there and it was excellent.

Our ninth day of riding took us from Næstved to Korsør – except that we stayed in a hotel a few miles outside of town.  The hotel was weird – two parallel single-story arms stretching out from a two -story area with reception and restaurant in a mono-color beige brick.  (There were at least 100 rooms in each arm so our room clear at the far end was quite a walk from the front desk.)  The restaurant was not open for lunch but the front desk said we could get a burger or a salad at the bar.  Unfortunately there didn’t seem to be any staff around the bar (Odette offended a woman in a business group by assuming that she worked for the hotel.)  We got lunch although Odette had to compromise her vegetarian principles.  We were staying in what was probably a suite – our room was incredibly small and there was a similar room off a common hallway.  Further up the hallway was a living room / kitchen with glass doors out to a patio.  The other rooms seemed to be full of furniture and stuff and the patio was overgrown (and littered with an abandoned bikini) so our room must have been the only active bit – it should have been a great price given the size and position. Being at the end of the arm we did have a view out to the brush and the water beyond – and we had a great vantage point to watch the lightning during the thunderstorm that evening.  We parked the bike on the patio under the eves for partial protection from rain.  We put shower caps over the saddles for the only time on the trip.  For some reason I was nervous about the bike all night.  We walked down to the beach but it was pretty rocky and there were too many people for us to stay very long.  We walked a short trail to a dolmen in the woods.  We ate at the restaurant which had almost nothing on the menu apart from a burger and a salad.

In the morning we rode on to Korsør and then to Sorø.  We didn’t see any of the interesting part of Korsør since our route took us through the industrial district and the rain was threatening enough to limit our interest in side trips.  We did make a trip out to Trelleborg to see the Viking ring fortress, a really interesting museum without a lot restoration stuff.  Much of the rest of the route went through the same forest that we encountered on the ride to Hillerød.  This time we took a route requiring less navigation and no railroad crossings.  If Sorø had an old part or a downtown we missed it.  Our hotel was very nice and had a very good restaurant but the primary attraction was the reconstruction of the thatched roof that was in progress.  

The ride from Sorø to Roskilde was interesting in that we approached Roskilde from a different direction than before.  There was one section of unpaved trail where we stopped to inspect another dolmen.  That trail put us back on pavement at a golf course where we got held up for a few minutes by a motorcade with a very large motorcycle escort.  Odette thought the GPX files took us to the hotel and seemed surprised to end up at the cathedral again.  This time I waited with the bike while she went in.   We eventually made our way back to the Scandia where we had stayed a week earlier.  We parked under the covering again and dinner at the restaurant was about the same  (they didn’t have the brown ale that seem ubiquitous in the places we ate, so they gave me red ale which they claimed was about the same.)

For our final day of riding we headed for Copenhagen, but unlike the previous ride from Roskilde we avoided the coast and headed straight for the city.  The first part of the ride was bike trail next to a busy highway.  Then we picked up the C99 – a bike superhighway.  I was less than impressed by the C99.  At best it seemed like a standard trail and at worst it was obliterated by construction.  We made some wrong turns and  had to backtrack but eventually found the suburbs of Copenhagen and ended up on downtown streets we knew.  We parked the bike in the courtyard of the Absalom again and went around the corner to have lunch at a cafe called Apropos.  Our luggage showed up and we were able to get boots and non-essential stuff into the bike cases.  Will arrived late in the afternoon and we walked along the water at Peblinge So and had dinner at a neighborhood French place.

I loved the countryside and the coast.  The national park / forest was not super impressive.  My biggest take away was our navigation coordination which worked better than it has on most of our trips.  Basically Odette had the GPX file with turn-by-turn and I had the tour book with a higher level description.  (The turn by turn would have three operations ending with “left on Falligsvej” while the book would just say “go left at the church in Magley”.)   The tour books fit just right into the map holder on my handlebar bag. I think we finally got the conversion into RWGPS figured out and we agreed that if the two sources disagreed the route book would prevail.  .  We shared what was coming next in our respective queue sheets and if we missed on one source we would usually recover on the other.

• Comwell Hotels Digression

Comwell is a chain of about sixteen hotels in Denmark and a couple in Sweden.  We stayed at Comwell Borupgaard in Snekkersten the first couple of nights we were riding.  It was a really nice hotel with a big modern room and a really wonderful restaurant.  We noticed that we were booked in a couple of other Comwell hotels and that made us happy.  The Comwell Køge Strand in Køge was different.  While Borupgaard might have been a chalet in a previous life, Køge looked like it was designed to be a hotel – one story tangled arms, etc.  There were construction tools piled in the hallways and the restaurant was not open.   The Comwell Klarkskovgaard outside of Korsør was a step further down – interesting but impractical architecture, a room in an abandoned suite, and a barely functioning restaurant.   There is probably a story, but if you didn’t know better you wouldn’t think they were part of the same chain.

• Here are the maps:

8/24 – Copenhagen test ride – Vesterbro to Skovshoved OAB.  here’s the map.  16 miles

8/25 – Copenhagen day 1 – Copenhagen to Helsingør.  here’s the map.  31 miles

8/26 – Copenhagen day 2 – Helsingborg – Höganäs loop (in Sweden) .  here’s the map.  45 miles (approx 6 miles on the ferry)

8/27 – Copenhagen day 3 – Helsingør to Hillerød.  here’s the map.  37 miles

8/28 – Copenhagen day 4 – Hillerød to Roskilde.  here’s the map.  31 miles

8/29 – Copenhagen day 5 – Roskilde to Copenhagen.  here’s the map.  31 miles

8/30 – Copenhagen day 6 – Amager Island loop.  here’s the map.  30 miles

9/1 – Copenhagen day 7 – Copenhagen to Køge.  here’s the map.  36 miles

9/2 – Copenhagen day 8 – Køge to Næstved.  here’s the map.  38 miles

9/3 – Copenhagen day 9 – Næstved to Korsør.  here’s the map.  38 miles

9/4 – Copenhagen day 10 – Korsør to Sorø.  here’s the map.  39 miles

9/5 – Copenhagen day 11 – Sorø to Roskilde.  here’s the map.  38 miles

9/6 – Copenhagen day 12 – Roskilde to Copenhagen.  here’s the map.  29 miles

• Here are the tour documents:

First loop

Second –  loop

• Copenhagen

We spent three days with Will exploring Copenhagen.  It rained the last day.  We visited the National Museum (a big exhibit on colonialism and not too many Zappa look alikes) and the Architecture Museum (featuring a four story slide) the Cisterns (more light and color, this time with sound) and the botanical gardens.  We walked out to the Refshaleøen district again and walked through the meatpacking district a couple of times.   We noted the fancy  bridges and bike parking structures in various places, infrastructure that would have made Amsterdam proud.  As in Amsterdam, most of the  bikes on the street were not locked the way they would be in Seattle.  We saw lots of cargo bikes, including a lot with the Christiania nameplate.  We saw bikes with the Centurion nameplate – evidently a Danish brand and not related to my vintage Centurion.  We saw several  brands of rental bikes, some of which we recognized and some of which  seemed  Copenhagen-specific.  It seemed like every hotel had rental bikes with their name on them – something we didn’t see in Amsterdam.  We ate at La Bodega and at CoFoCo (both in Vesterbro, not far from our hotels) and at Alchemist.

Alchemist was maybe a little over the top.  They are clear that it is not the right place for an evening of business discussions or for a first date. The experience involves 50 food “impressions”, a drink pairing (chosen from a variety of price levels) and a lavish multi-media show.  It lasts four or five hours.  The foods served include sheep brains and insects – mainly for the bragging rights I suspect.  They have a large staff and don’t seem to be in any hurry to move diners along.  Will arranged it for us and treated us to something we would never have done for ourselves.  I got carried away and ordered an expensive champagne at the start, but I controlled myself the rest of the evening.  Truly once in a lifetime for us – and I totally enjoyed it.

• thoughts:
  • we do okay with the S&S cases as long as it is just to and from an airport
  • it works well to check our backpacks on the return flight
  • we need to work on lunch on the bike
  • we need to venture out from the hotels for dinner
  • we can probably do more than 30 miles a day
  • you can’t assume that every hotel in a chain will be up to the same standard
  • the biggest Parkinsons issue was having to carry a bunch of pills
  • I’m more likely to get dizzy on stairs than on the bike
  • the places in Copenhagen that we liked the best (Refshaleøen, and the Meat Packing district) were repurposed industrial zones
  • maybe instead of repainting the tandem I’ll just get a new bike

Here are the photos

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Related Photos The Pueblo, CO to Medicine Lodge, KS Stage (via Highways 50, 96, 83, 400, 54, 183, 160) Back

 

August 13, 2004

The day that we had long anticipated has arrived. We will ride from Pueblo down into the plains of Kansas. It will be all down hill, right? Given that we did not expect a lot of service stops in eastern Colorado and that we might have a higher average speed, we set our sights for Eads, CO, an ambitious 110 miles away. The plan was to start out at first light. Well, that launch time was delayed slightly as we discovered that the trailer tire was flat. After taking 20 minutes to change the tube, we were on our way. After just a couple of miles, we found ourselves on busy Highway 50, competing with the morning rush hour traffic. However, the four-lane divided highway had wide shoulders and rumble strips to separate us from the traffic. We were going east and most of the motorists were headed west into Pueblo.

After a dozen miles of the rather bland four-lane highway, we were happy to turn off onto Highway 96, a quiet two lane road with a two foot shoulder. This road paralleled a railroad track. The map has us following these tracks clear into Kansas. We passed pastures of sagebrush with some occasional fields. One produce farm had two truck loads of onions sitting along the highway. Although we didn’t have the sensation that we were going down hill, we were going at a comfortable 12 to 14 mph. There were some slight inclines in places but nothing to slow us down into single digit speeds.

With an approaching train to dramatize the setting, we reached another milestone, 4000 miles. As we quickly positioned the bike for the photo documentation, the train stopped. Hmmm, what timing. Barb held up four fingers as we savored the moment. We continued on, leaving the stopped train behind. Just twenty miles into our day, we reached Boone, CO. The sign outside town stated the elevation at 4,500 ft. Divide the elevation by 14 and you have the approximate population of the town. A lot of the Colorado towns show the elevation signs at the city limits. Being above 4,000 ft must be a status symbol around here.

The surroundings became more arid and sunflowers dotted the roadside. We saw a coyote cross the road and run to a nearby hill. It ran and ran to reach the hill top. Then it stopped and just gazed back at us. After passing a pasture of dairy cattle, we crossed over the railroad tracks. The tracks were now on our right. Every setting has its points of interest. In this instance, just crossing the tracks gave our ride some diversity. Also attracting attention was the sign, “DIP – Do Not Enter When Water is Over Road.” We pictured the area as having little rainfall so we wondered how often this sign was applicable.

After biking 40 miles, we came to a large correctional faculty outside Olney Springs, CO. We didn’t want to pick up any hitchhikers here. Reaching Olney Springs, the sign informs us that we are at 4,391 ft. Hey, we are still above 4,000 ft. Because we are hoping for a big day, we stopped at a café to eat not lunch, but breakfast. When cycling, one can eat multiple breakfasts as long as the food is available. A Gulf War veteran strolled across the street to greet us. He had done some motorcycling down the Alaskan Highway so he was impressed with our adventure.

Leaving town, we saw a second correctional facility. We found it interesting that this town was sandwiched between two prisons. Those serving time in eastern Colorado certainly don’t enjoy the mountain views. These facilities provide much needed jobs to the area and the relatively treeless landscape offer escapees few places to hide. After eleven miles, we reached Ordway, CO at 4,312 ft. The small town had services but we chose to wait until the next town to stop.

East of Ordway, we saw our first cattle feed yard. It was a mile long with rows of pens and a trough along one side of the pens. A grid of roads along the pens allowed trucks to slowly drive next to the trough, distributing feed pellets. The cattle would come running whenever this happened. Of all of the traffic we saw on the highway, about half consisted of cattle trucks and feed trucks. The cattle trucks, in particular, were memorable as they brought a certain smell to the area. Fortunately we never were sprayed by waste coming out of the trucks as we heard some bikers were.

As we left Ordway, we could already see the elevator in the upcoming town, six miles away. Because it was so flat here in eastern Colorado, it was typical to be able to spot a town from miles away by sighting its grain elevator. Sugar City, CO (population 274) was listed as a service stop but nothing seemed to be open. Now, we regretted not stopping in the previous town for refreshments. We had pedaled 70 miles by 2 PM so we were having a pretty decent advance today. And then, the south wind arrived. What an untimely wind! We had 40 miles left and this wind was strong enough to hinder our eastward movement.

Just before reaching Arlington, CO, we met a custom cutter crew headed west. Because all of the area wheat had been cut several weeks ago, we assumed that this crew was heading home. We missed the wheat harvest but at least we got to see a couple of combines (loaded on trailers) heading down the road. A few houses in a river valley made up the small settlement of Arlington. Continuing on, we went by miles of pasture. The grass wasn’t very green and in some instances looked like it had been dry for a while.

The sign outside Haswell, CO showed an elevation of 4,538 ft. What is this? We have climbed 200 ft in elevation! After all of the climbing we have done in the past months, we were bemoaning a couple hundred feet. Surely, the wind was more tormenting to us then the slight climb. More importantly, we were concerned that would be no services in Haswell. We biked through the length of town before reaching a service station on the east side. It was in a Quonset hut (steel arch building) and was so dimly lit, it looked closed. We peered inside the door and found a row of refrigerator units with sandwiches and such. We purchased microwavable sandwiches, chips and drinks. We sat on the sofa and watched the early news on a TV station out of Denver for 15 minutes. As we left, the store was closing for the day at 5 PM. Boy, were we lucky on our arrival time.

Now that our tanks were filled, we had 23 miles to lodging accommodations. This 110 mile trek was starting to look awfully long. The wind continued and for the next seven miles, added another new challenge. Dust from the crop-less fields was blowing heavily onto the road. What few motorists we met had their lights on. Would we be visible in this dust cloud? For a few miles, we probably ate as much dust as we did for the entire ride on the mostly gravel Alaskan Dalton Highway. To make matters worse, we could only muster 7 to 9 mph of speed because of the strong side wind.

For the final miles, we were taking a rest every two miles as the wind persisted. As we pushed ahead, we saw scattered farm houses with barns and windmills, some of which looked abandoned. We reached Eads, CO about 7:30 PM with very little daylight left. We checked into the only motel in the area and then took long showers to remove the dusty coatings. Since the room was equipped with a microwave and refrigerator, we walked to a nearby grocery store to buy sandwiches and breakfast items. The day had been long and it was time for bed.

Miles cycled – 113.5

August 14, 2004

We started early today hoping to get some miles in before the wind would pick up. However, the wind never really subsided overnight. We thought that with the flatter terrain of eastern Colorado and western Kansas we would be covering a lot of miles each day, but the wind was really draining us. Knowing that we would reach Kansas later in the day, we were motivated to push on. Early in the morning, we were greeted with pastures filled with wild sunflowers. With the sunflower being the Kansas state flower, we figured that the state line couldn’t be far off (actually, we were 40 miles away). Within our first ten miles out of Eads, we had a flat on the rear tandem tire. This was a pretty remote area to be having a flat! We were uncertain about the cause of the flat as it did not appear to be a pinch flat and nothing foreign was found in the tire. So, we put on a new tube and continued on.

Let’s see now, we had a stubborn wind, we had to change a flat; what else could make this morning miserable? How about the threat of rain? Yes, the morning clouds in the west became a dark blue color and for a while, we looked like we might get soaked. We should have realized that it hardly ever rains in eastern Colorado so we would stay dry without issue. Given that we were biking along at 8 to 10 mph instead of our usual 10 to 12 mph, Randall began to hum “Da-da-da-da-DA-da” to the tune of the Chariots of Fire theme song. We didn’t go any faster with a humming captain but, at times, we were actually able to ignore the wind.

As like the day before, the grain elevator of each town came into view miles before we got there. In some cases, the town wasn’t much more than that elevator. Chivington, CO and Brandon, CO both had a post office, but no other services. It was very apparent that not many people live out this way. Until a farmer came down the highway with his tractor, we had not seen any motorists for at least an hour. Reaching Sheridan Lake, CO (population less than 100) was a big treat. They had a limit selection of snacks at the roadside service station. We warmed up some sandwiches in the microwave and sat outside to eat. As we were leaving, the operator asked if we needed anything else as he was closing down the service station. It was 10:30 AM on a Saturday. Services in small towns don’t operate on the same schedules as those in larger cities.

As we were finishing the last few miles in Colorado, we noted that we were still following the railroad track. Perhaps no train ever comes down this track any more. We did see hundreds of flat bed cars on the tracks. We wondered, what better place to store unused railroad cars? Finally, we reached Towner, our last town in Colorado. They had several elevators and grain bins. Big wooly sheep were seen grazing among the bins.

We were elated to have reached the “Welcome to Kansas” sign. It was a time for photos. As we ventured into our fifth state, we noticed that the road surface became a bit smoother. Our pace quickened slightly. The increased speed may have been due to less resistance or maybe it was just the thrill of being in our home state. Only one mile past the state border, we had our first tractor sighting. It was a huge tractor with three tires at the end of each axle (for a total of 12 tires). The farmers in western Kansas have long managed large acreage and this equipment typified how they farm in a big way. While he was a teenager, Randall had traveled to Greeley County with his family to visit relatives. What struck him then was the land was so flat that you could almost sense the curvature of the earth. It was interesting that on this tour, the land did not seem as flat to him as the bicycle ride was identifying a few ups and downs.

We followed 16 miles of “straight as an arrow” highway to reach Tribune, KS. Outside of town, there was a sign stating the rainfall, year to date, as 20.20 inches. We were thinking that amount was bit above their average. At 2 PM, we biked into town just as the roadside café closed for the day. A local suggested the burger shack half a block down. They had inside seating to give us some relief from the wind. Because of the wind, we had been averaging less than 10 mph in flat Kansas. What a humble venture into our home state. Having biked through the mountains of Montana, Wyoming and Colorado, we never had a day where we averaged under 10 mph. In the mountains, there was always a fast downhill waiting for us after the slow climb.

Because of the persistent south wind, we decided that we would not bike the 47 miles needed to reach Scott City, KS. That left Leoti, KS which was just 22 miles away, for our overnight stop. Camping was allowed in the new and old city parks, but neither site had restrooms or showers. While in Tribune, we called the only motel in Leoti and asked about availability. They had to check to see if someone who had reserved a room was really going to use it. We called again later and they confirmed that the second floor room was available. They would save it for us with just our name, no credit card number needed.

As we advanced into western Kansas, we saw many pastures with cattle. On a couple of occasions, the cattle along the fence began running and seemingly pursuing us as we biked down the road. It was hilarious to watch but the cattle’s owner probably wouldn’t like to see the herd running (and losing weight). We theorized that perhaps the cattle thought that we were going to feed them out of our trailer. After a half mile, the herd gave up the chase. We spotted a rattlesnake on the shoulder of the road which had been run over. When Barb walked over to take a picture, it tried to coil its body and shake its rattle. Its head was smashed but the snake was not dead yet. Barb got two quick images using the telephoto setting and left. We passed a pasture with old cowboy boots placed upside down over the fence posts. There must have had been about three dozen boots in the display.

At the Wichita County line, we entered the Central Time Zone and promptly lost an hour. We had been on mountain time for so long, it was nice to have a change. On either side of the elevator in the town of Selkirk, KS, signs warned “Caution Wind Currents.” Oh really? We’ve been fighting those currents for two days now. Later, we came across a bridge in the road that was being completely rebuilt. A detour pavement running parallel to the construction was no problem to bike over. Before Leoti, we started seeing a number of corn fields. The corn was very tall and robust. Oh, for the wonders of irrigation. The obvious question was, how long will the underground water last?

As we entered Leoti, we discovered that the city was hosting the last day of the county fair. We were also told that there was an all class school reunion that night. Reunions in small towns are typically well attended. All this activity meant that the town with a population of 1,598 was packed with people and motorists. We realized then that we were very lucky to have a room with our earlier afternoon reservation. But because the motel was at the center of all this activity, we were concerned about the security of our bike. Normally, we take the bike into our motel room but our room was on the second floor. We asked in the office where would be the best place to secure our bike. They offered their motel storage garage across the street. We then showered and grabbed a bite to eat before retiring for the day.

Miles cycled – 78.7

August 15, 2004

We initially planned to start biking early in hopes of getting a break from the wind. However, once again the wind did not diminish overnight. Still tired from the last two days, we decided to sleep in until 9 AM. We were 25 miles west of Scott City. After Scott City, we would turn south and head right into the wind. The TransAmerica route continued east, but we were deviating from the route to visit Randall’s hometown, Medicine Lodge, KS and then Barb’s hometown, Manhattan, KS. We would rejoin the TransAmerica route at Chanute in southeast Kansas.

As we headed beyond Leoti, the fields of corn and sorghum were becoming more abundant. The area from Scott City through Garden City, KS and Dodge City, KS has a lot of cattle feed yards. So naturally, one needs to grow a lot of grain to support all of these operations. West of Scott City, we reached one of these feed yards. After stopping to take photographs, we noticed a touring cyclist approaching from the east. George (also known as Catfish on a bike) was from Wisconsin. He thought he was the last biker out here and was tired of talking to the cows. We compared notes on our adventures while the south wind blew the feed yard odors in our direction.

When we reached Scott City, we took a while to get oriented to the town. At nearly 4,000 in population, we hadn’t seen such a large town since we left Pueblo. We biked up and down main street and could not find a restaurant. So we ventured to the south several blocks where we found a Dairy Queen. While we ate lunch, Barb called her sister to arrange for a shipment of supplies to Medicine Lodge. Our tires did not need replacing but we needed more of our Habitat cards. After our meal, we ordered dairy treats for extra energy and made sure we had lots of fluids before we headed south on Highway 83. Having been eastbound on Highway 96 for three days, it was nice to have a change.

Heading out of town, the shoulder widened and most of the passing vehicles gave us a wide berth whenever the other lane was free. We actually would have preferred that they passed closer to us because when they did, they temporarily disrupted the headwind and we then experienced a slight surge in our speed. For the 33 miles south, we would proceed at a pace of 6 to 8 mph. What a long afternoon! There were lots of beetles and caterpillars on the shoulder as they must thrive with all of the crops and livestock waste in the area. Some of the beetles were fairly large as Randall had to weave a bit on the shoulder to avoid running over them.

Because we were getting quite a workout going into the wind, we adjusted our rest stop frequency from every five miles to every three miles. During a rest stop several miles south of Scott City, we looked back to the north and counted five separate grain elevators around the town. A variety of crops were seen along the highway, including, corn, alfalfa, wheat, sorghum and sunflowers. When we reached Shallow Water, KS, we notice some gas pumps at a convenient fuel stop for the locals. What was unusual about this station was that there was no store or service attendant. You would simply pull up to the pump, insert your credit card, and fill your tank.

Just north of the Finney County line, we passed by Friend, KS. We always knew there was a Friend in Kansas. During our breaks in this area, we paid more attention to the stickers and thorns seen among the weeds beside the shoulder. We wouldn’t want to get a flat because we walked the bike over some thorns. North of Garden City, there was a sign that promoted Liberal, KS with its Mid-America Air Museum and Dorothy’s House. We mention this as so many of our non-Kansas friends easily relate Kansas to Dorothy and the “Wizard of Oz.” Alas, our route would not take us to Liberal.

Upon reaching the north end of Garden City, we stopped at a visitor center for motel information. Since we were off the TransAmerica bicycle route, we had less information then we were accustomed to. The visitor center did offer a bicycle map for the state of Kansas. On this map, desirable routes were marked throughout the state which included three west-east options. We then proceeded through Garden city to a motel on the southeast edge of town. This motel location would position us for an early departure to Dodge City the next day. Along the way, we passed through the downtown area and biked by a very large grain elevator.

Miles cycled – 63.6

August 16, 2004

We rose early and packed the bike in preparation for a pre-dawn ride. We then rode a short block to the Red Baron, a 24 hour restaurant for a hearty breakfast. At 6:20 AM, we started biking as we headed southeast out of town on Highway 50 (same highway we rode on, east of Pueblo). It was still dark as we were on the western edge of the Central Time Zone. Highway 50 had a wide shoulder for our convenience. We used our front and rear bike lights for added visibility. As always, the reflective slow moving vehicle triangle and yellow flag on our trailer accompanied us. In addition, we wore yellow jackets with reflective material. The traffic was lighter at that time in the morning (as we had hoped) and those who were out commuting had no problem seeing us.

For all of the visibility we had, we almost didn’t see a commuting cyclist traveling towards us on our side of the highway. He was wearing dark clothing and had no lights. We were able to avoid a disastrous, bicycle to bicycle collision. We noticed our speed was better this morning as the wind was less than 10 mph. What a relief! After seven miles, we reached the Garden City regional airport. We were impressed with how far the airport was located from the city. By 7 AM, it was getting lighter. At the same time our shoulder necked down from 8 feet to 30 inches. Yikes!

A few miles later, we reached the small town of Pierceville, KS. Like most other small towns in Kansas, the most dominant structure was the grain elevator. Just beyond Pierceville, a cattle truck passed us very closely (with no oncoming traffic). We adjusted to this unexpected “close shave” but were more than startled when the driver blasted his horn once he was alongside of us. We then passed a game farm which raised game birds such as peasants or quail. The birds were held in with fencing and netting. The netting was hung high above the pens in a circus-tent like fashion. There was heavy vegetation throughout the pens to provide cover.

This portion of Highway 50 followed the path of the Santa Fe Trail which paralleled the Arkansas River. Just before the small town of Charleston, KS, a section of the road had just been resurfaced. A flagman at each end limited travel to one lane of traffic at a time, although both lanes were being used. Westbound traffic would travel through the section on their side and then east bound would travel on their side. In this setup, we did not feel rushed to get through the construction zone as when the opposing traffic came through, there was plenty of road for all.

After passing through the construction zone, things were more risky. For each group heading east, 12 to 15 vehicles (mostly trucks) were headed in our direction in mass. We could advance about one and a half miles before the next group reached us. Then we pulled off the highway completely to let them go by. A couple of truckers gave us a courtesy honk as they appreciated what we were doing. After five miles, the line was dispersed enough that we didn’t need to leave the road. West of Ingalls, KS, we encountered some considerable hills. Imagine that, hills in “flat” Kansas. In fact, when we reached the top of the first big hill, a sign noted a scenic overlook so we stopped for a rest and to enjoy the setting. We had a wonderful, panoramic view of a feed yard!

Having climbed over a couple more big hills, we reached Ingalls. In this small town, a weathered sign identified the Ingalls Bulldogs as the “1984, 8 Man, Division II, State Football Champions.” Some towns do not have enough high school kids to support the traditional eleven man football team and play with eight instead. Even as more schools consolidate, the declining populations in the small Kansas towns have forced many high schools to switch to eight man football. So many schools now field eight man teams that there are actually two different divisions. Played on a slightly smaller field and with fewer players, eight man football has an offensive advantage over the regular eleven man version. The games can be high scoring.

Just a few miles beyond Ingalls was Cimarron, KS. This city of about 2,000 had a quaint downtown. Even more striking for this setting was to see a semi truck loaded with hay turn onto main street. After getting some refreshments at the convenience store, we stopped by the drug store to get some allergy medicine. We had biked by a number of feed yards (with our windows down) and Barb found the smells to be a bit overwhelming. East of town, the shoulder widened considerably. For about a quarter of a mile, a pick-up truck followed us while driving on this shoulder. This was despite the numerous, “No driving on shoulder” signs. Finally, the driver pulled onto the highway and passed us. It was an older man and we think he just wanted to get a closer view of us and our rig.

In the west, some thundershowers were developing. We biked on, hoping to stay ahead of the rain. Later, we came across a sign that directed us to the Santa Fe Trail display. We stopped to read the interpretive signs. This historic path was used from 1822 to 1872 to move supplies and “life’s possessions” the 800 miles between Missouri and New Mexico. A short walk on a boardwalk took us by some remaining ruts of the trail. The wagons traveled about 12 to 16 miles a day. We wouldn’t do too much better on a bicycle if we had to ride in those ruts. Rain drops started falling from the sky so we scampered back to the tandem to resume our ride.

We pedaled hard as we wanted to reach Dodge City before noon and stop at the local newspaper to tell our story. We encountered some rain but didn’t get soaked. A sign outside of town urged people to “Get the heck into Dodge.” At 11:40 AM, we found the newspaper office and parked our bike outside. Walking in without an appointment, we told the receptionist we might have a story they would be interested in. Even though we were wet and appeared to be just some bums off the street, she called a reporter over. Initially, the reporter seemed to be a bit annoyed at the timing and asked us when would be a good time for us to talk. Since it was still raining outside, we said now would be a good time.

The reporter grabbed a pad and pencil and started to lead us to an open desk with extra chairs. We asked if she wanted to take a quick peek at our bike outside. After seeing our rig, she seemed to be more interested in hearing our story. We chatted for 45 minutes. She was also a Kansas State grad and knew of our relatives who lived nearby. She took our picture standing next to our bike and said the article would be in the paper the next day. We ended up on the front page. Our front page insertion made us wonder what they would have otherwise used for a story as we didn’t arrive until mid day. To see the web posted version of the story, click this link: Dodge City Globe.

After the newspaper interview, the weather was clearing so we rode to Boot Hill for a photo op and lunch. We left town to the east where we stopped at another scenic overlook. The setting was (you guessed it), another feed yard. This panoramic view also included a very large processing plant. The plants and the feed yards have changed the face of Dodge City as a large portion of the workers are Hispanic. The public schools are now reportedly 60 percent Hispanic.

We then headed northeast to the small town of Wright, KS. Randall’s Aunt Flora lives there and was expecting us to spend the night. Five of her children living in the area came over for dinner that night. With a house full of relatives and a delicious meal, it was a time to cherish. We showed some of our photos on the laptop and spent a half hour answering questions about our bike and gear. Randall’s cousins enjoyed hearing about our adventure and we welcomed the opportunity to share our stories.

Miles cycled – 59.6

August 17, 2004

The Doge City Daily Globe had already arrived when we got up. As noted earlier, our cycling story was on the front page. The photo of us standing behind our bike was very colorful. How exciting! The article played off our Kansas connections and added a plug for Habitat. Aunt Flora sent us off well with breakfast (how could we be hungry after stuffing ourselves the night before). She took us to the local post office as we thought we could buy more papers there but there was no newspaper box.

To get down to Highway 400 from Wright, we headed one mile west before veering south onto 117th Street. There were a surprising number of trucks on this road. We were biking over a high plateau and had an incredible view. When stopped to rest, we could see five different grain elevators in the area, each marking the location of a town. Upon reaching Highway 400, we turned left and headed southeast. For about ten miles, we were biking along the Arkansas River before it veered to the north. The crops in the river valley appeared robust as a number of fields were irrigated. Wheat, sorghum and alfalfa were seen for mile after mile.

With a Arkansas River crossing ahead, we reflected on our previous crossings. We first crossed the Arkansas River south of Canon City, CO. It flowed from there to feed the Pueblo Reservoir west of Pueblo. As we were going east of Pueblo, we followed the river for 30 miles until the river veered to the southeast. We then rejoined this river when we reached Garden City, KS. North of Ford, KS, we crossed over this river once again. We were aware that a number of irrigated fields draw from this river which diminishes its volume. But still, we were amazed when we saw just a couple of puddles. There was no flowing river here! The river bed was full of weeds.

In Ford, we found a vending machine for the Dodge City newspaper. We bought four copies of the paper to share with family. The only businesses that seemed to be operating in Ford were the Blue Hereford Restaurant and a liquor store. The downtown area was pretty much deserted. We seemed to be getting more honks and waves from vehicles today. Perhaps, they read about us in the paper. Continuing on southeast of Ford, we saw a sheriff deputy in a pick-up truck checking for speeding violations in this 65 mph zone. During the eight miles we overlapped, we saw him stop two vehicles.

Approaching Mullinville, KS, we noticed a lot of movement at the side of the road. As we got closer, we saw that the north side of the highway was lined with metal artwork. Some of the metal art pieces were made with stop signs or other road signs and moved like pinwheels. Others were simply scrap metal that was cut, welded and painted to look like people. Most were politically motivated and included such people as Margaret Thatcher, Jesse Helms, Bill Clinton and Hillary Clinton. The local government officials (especially the zoning board) were also targeted. The “art” was up to three pieces deep and spanned about an eighth of a mile. We stopped to take lots of photos as there was a lot to absorb. We saw one passing vehicle that was slowly driving along and video taping the scene. The man who created all this briefly stopped in his pick-up truck to talk to us. M. T. Liggett has spent 15 years on this artwork and was busy welding new art when we biked by his shop. It was quite a sight, but we don’t think many people would like it in their neighborhood. The entire group of artwork photos that we posted can be found in the album, Pueblo to Medicine Lodge 3 of 3

Mullinville seemed like a good lunch stop so we biked over to Gables Cafe, south of town. Their highway sign said “Best Food In Town.” That was certainly the case as it was the only cafe around. As we entered, the waitress said, “You sold your house in Rochester Hills, Michigan. You quit your jobs and are riding from Alaska to Florida.” Barb replied sarcastically, “Since you know everything about us, you must know what we want to eat.” The waitress quickly looked at the newspaper and said, “No, that’s not covered in here.” For the record, we ordered two taco salads. This cafe had a wall sign which read, “Everyone brings joy to this establishment. Some when they arrive, others when they leave.” We hope we were in the first category. Another sign said, “Please remove pliers and screwdrivers before seating.”

We stopped at a service station to fill our bottles with iced water before proceeding. The afternoon was getting quite warm. As we left Mullinville, we hopped on eastbound Highway 54. It was a busy highway but we had a wide shoulder. There was a small airplane to the south that was crop dusting. The plane would fly very low to the ground to spray the crops and then bank sharply before passing just beyond the area he had just sprayed. Again, he would bank sharply and then fly low again. He covered a lot of ground and looked like he was having fun doing it.

We stayed with Highway 54 until Greenburg, KS so that we could see the World’s Largest Hand Dug Well. It was completed in 1888 and is 109 feet deep and 32 feet in diameter. Right next to the well was a water tower with “The Big Well” painted on it . A big arrow pointed downward so that any visitor in town would have no problem finding the well. We peered into the well opening through the glass top but decided not to take the tour. Our destination today was still 23 miles to the south and into that infamous, south Kansas wind.

Leaving Greensburg on Highway 183, we no longer had a shoulder to ride on. No problem. The traffic was light as Randall counted 47 vehicles that passed us during the three hours we biked to the south. We maintained a slow pace into the strong south wind as we passed fields of sorghum and alfalfa. There were also a few oil wells along the way. We were getting back into the hill country. These were not significant hills but we did go to our granny gear on a couple of occasions. Finally, we reach Coldwater, KS and checked into our motel. The showers were most refreshing as they had hot water as well as cold water. We re-hydrated with lots of iced tea at a local restaurant.

Miles cycled – 68.7

August 18, 2004

With 40 miles and a lot of hills ahead, we started before sunrise so we could do most of our climbing before the day heated up. We were now on Highway 160, headed straight east for Medicine Lodge. This highway was marked as a scenic drive, but we didn’t need the signs to inform us as this is where Randall grew up. The morning was cool so we wore our jackets and tights for a few miles until we began some moderate climbing. Just outside Coldwater, we observed a gorgeous sunrise with beautiful red and pink colors. What a treat! The first group of hills were small and bunched close enough together so that we could apply our rolling hill technique (gathering enough momentum downward for an easy climb up). We stopped to gaze at Mule Creek, as Randall recalled the times his family had picnics there. Back then, the creek was fun to play in as it had more water than any creek on their farm. It was definitely more robust than the Arkansas River we saw the day before.

As we reached the Barber County line, we did a unusual thing. We stopped on an uphill. Randall wanted his photo taken with the sign. Advancing east, we could see that the hills had more of a red color. We were now among a group of hills called the Gypsum Hills. North of us in Sun City, KS, there is a mine where gypsum rock is extracted and trucked to Medicine Lodge for processing into wallboard. Some of us may actually have wallboard in our homes that originated from this Sun City mine. Continuing through the Gypsum Hills, Randall was watching for one particular hill that he thought was tremendous as a child. He thought we might really fly down this hill. However, after biking through the Rockies, this hill didn’t seem so steep anymore as we reached a top speed of 34 mph. It is funny how things appear so differently as a child.

After coming down this hill, Randall’s mother, Lorena, met us at the intersection of Highway 160 and Lake City Road. The Angell Seed Farm (where Randall grew up) is about 5 miles south from this intersection via dirt roads. We had biked those roads in the past, but didn’t want to tackle them while in the touring mode. We visited for a while before continuing on to Medicine Lodge, stopping for lots of photos along the way. There were two turnouts for scenic overlooks where our camera was very busy. Just west of Medicine Lodge, cattle were grazing along the Medicine River. Whereas in the past, cattle have stared at us curiously or follow us, this small herd was terribly spooked. They stampeded through a gate to flee the unusual sighting.

Arriving in town, we stopped at the convenience store to by a copy of the Barber County Index. The paper had a short story which noted a couple was biking from Alaska to Florida and would be stopping in town! We washed the bike at the car wash as we wanted it clean before we put it on display. We stopped at the post office to pick up some supplies and then met Randall’s sister-in-law, Jean, during her lunch break. We would stay at Harold’s (Randall’s brother) and Jean’s house in town for two nights, giving us time to visit with the people in Medicine Lodge. In the afternoon, we went to the library as it was a cool, quiet place to work on our website. That evening we rode our loaded tandem across town to the city park where we enjoyed a delicious 4-H cookout. We got to visit with some local 4-Hers and others who were very interested in hearing our story. Randall’s family were also at this gathering, including his parents, Elmer and Lorena, his brother, Roger and his wife, Twila, and nieces, Lisa and Kimberly. Harold and Jean’s son, Scott even rode his bike to the park so we got to ride together back to their home that night.

Miles cycled – 45.6

August 19, 2004

On this day, Randall’s folks had arranged with the local bank to use their Sunflower Room to meet the people in Medicine Lodge. We had our bike and trailer set up outside the bank while inside there were maps, newspaper articles and refreshments. The bank even put on their marquee sign, “Meet Randall and Barb Angell Cycling Cross Country Alaska to Florida.” It was a cool, rainy day so it was good to have this day off. We had about 40 people stop by to visit, including Barb’s parents, John and Mildred, who drove down from Manhattan, KS, picking up her Uncle Leonard along the way. Randall’s nephew, Mitch also stopped by as well as many of Randall’s former neighbors. They wanted to learn more about our adventure and had many questions about the bike and gear. Both local papers came by to interview us.

Miles cycled – 1.1

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June 12, 2004

After a hearty breakfast, we packed our things on the bike and trailer. The tarp covering the tandem was flapping around and was difficult to fold. Not a good sign! For the first 25 miles, we had a stiff 20 mph headwind to battle. On top of that, we had more hills with some of them being the steepest grades we have seen since the Dalton Highway. We were now seeing more trees covering the hills and mountains. We were also in horse country. There were trucks with horse trailers passing us and horse tracks along the road.

One bridge we crossed was under construction with only one lane available for traffic. We waited for the traffic light to turn green and as it did we paused to let the three vehicles behind us to go ahead. This allowed us to slowly cross the bridge and see the view. Once over the bridge we had a long, steep hill to climb. We went the distance to the top and then stopped to take off a layer of wool clothing.

After climbing hill after hill, we stopped for lunch at the Iron Creek Lodge. The creek got its name because this is where the trucks had to stop and put on their “irons” or tire chains (think hills). Now whenever we see signs which say “Chains Put On Here,” we know we are in for a climb. Likewise, “Take Chains Off Now” is a very good sign as it means the climbing is over for a while anyway.

We met a couple outside the Contact Creek Lodge where we stopped for supplies. He asked how many miles we ride a day. Randall told him we target 60 miles. He said “see, Catherine?” She said “Yea right. Get in the camper,” and they were off. Two school buses pulled up. They were being driven by a couple from Tulsa who are “road rats,” that is they deliver vehicles too large to transport on flatbed trucks. They were driving the school buses from Tulsa to Anchorage. And people think bicycles are uncomfortable for a long distance! While at this stop, we saw two guys going north (no doubt enjoying their tailwind) on single bikes each pulling a trailer like ours, but we didn’t get a chance to talk to them. There are a few people who bike the Alaskan Highway.

It seems that a lot of bears live around the Alaskan Highway. We saw five black bears in the next stretch of highway. Three of them were a ways from the road and the other two looked at us a while because we were so different, but eventually retreated to the woods. We were not able to reach a settlement that day, so we camped at Allen’s Lookout, a rest stop with picnic tables, a fire pit, a dumpster and an outhouse. The setting was very scenic being next to the Liard River. It also provided a large gravel area and tall trees to hold our food out of the way of bears. We cooked two boxes macaroni and cheese and then set up camp. Several vehicles used the pullout throughout the night, but we slept well.

Miles cycled – 62

June 13, 2004

We awoke to find a pickup truck parked nearby with a sleeping occupant inside. We stayed around our tent while Randall worked to get the satellite phone to connect to the internet so we could retrieve email. In the past, we had technical difficulties getting connected with satellite phone but we appear to have that resolved.

A guy drove up in a pickup truck and began to clean the toilet which was about 100 yards away from us. He whistled the whole time and sounded quite cheerful although he could have been trying to keep away bears also. He let his dog out to roam around. First the dog stayed in the trees near his owner. When the dog became aware of us, he came bounding towards us, hair on end but tail wagging, barking all the way. He ran pass us and promptly marked his spot just beyond our tent. The guy called his dog back to the truck and then drove up next to our tent and asked how our biking was going. He said he maintained the Liard Hot Springs Park also and comes to this site for cleaning, 3 times a week before going to his regular job.

It was in the mid 50s when we started biking. The first two hours were reasonably flat and with very little wind. After 10 AM, the wind started blowing. We continued to follow the Liard River which we camped by the night before. The initial rolling hills reminded Randall of western Barber County Kansas, where he grew up. The morning portion of the ride included one steep climb. When we reached the top, a north bound truck pulling two trailers pulled off to the turnout to cool his engine. As we rested on our side, the truck rested on the opposite side.

At 11 AM, we reached the cafe at Fireside. The parking lot was filled with RVs. Because the group had reserved the cafe for the morning meal gathering, we were told that the Cold Creek Restaurant 10 miles beyond would be a better option (if you are driving) otherwise the wait would be one hour. So we bought a couple of cookies and drinks and had a short snack outside. Many of the couples in the traveling RV group talked to us about our trip and one gentleman gave a donation for Habitat.

As we ventured to the next service place, we had our first buffalo sighting. This bison was to our right, grazing next to the road. We passed within 20 feet of him. As soon as we passed in front of him, he decided he was going to cross the road. He took a leisurely walk across the road span with no worry that vehicles were headed his way. Traffic came to a screeching halt as the buffalo finished his highway crossing. Later, we were told that during the winter, the buffalo like to lay down on the highway because it is warmer and motorists can have a difficult time getting them to move. This bull was part of a herd that was released to roam in the wild. They are a darker color than the ones we have seen in the lower 48 and one local referred to them as “mountain buffalo.” They are protected and can not be killed. The buffalo meat served in restaurants comes from ranches.

After this sighting, the wind got really annoying at 20 mph with gusts up to 30-35 mph. It was time to change our rest routine. Instead of resting every 5 miles, we stopped at 3 miles intervals. The winds made it more challenging to steer and keeping the bike upright was priority number one. Barb stopped taking photos while the tandem was not stable enough to hold the camera steady. With the more frequent rest stops, there were ample opportunities for photographs then. After two hours we reached the alternative restaurant. We ordered breakfast at 1 PM with buffalo sausage (our first major meal of the day). The buffalo links were pretty dry and bland so don’t think we’ll try that again. After breakfast, we continued to battle the wind for 37 miles to our destination. What a day! It was very apparent as we approached Liard Hot Springs, that we were entering the Northern Rockies. As we followed a large curve around a rocky mountain, another buffalo, more distant from the road was seen grazing. A local stated that this bull is always in that area and that he must be getting paid to help out with the tourism!

Why do so many miles on a harsh day? All the literature (and locals) stated that we were in bear country. Arriving at Liard Hot Springs, we found that the Provincial Campground was full and the privately owned Lodge (which advertised a place for tents in the back) refused to allow us to set up a tent. There were 3 BIG BEARS in the area that morning and they didn’t want to be liable. Was this a marketing ploy? The Provincial Campground would have accepted us being bikers, however, they did not have showers and the Lodge would not sell us showers separately, so we booked a room. We called it the Goldilocks room as 3 bears
were involved. Pretty pricey for bear protection and no direct phone line. Randall was able to retrieve email using the satellite phone and get the scoop on the NBA playoffs.

Miles cycled – 73

June 14, 2004

We walked to the hot springs in the morning before the cafe opened up. It was about a half a mile journey on a boardwalk over a wetlands area. We saw a mother duck and ducklings. There was one man soaking in the hot springs who had a cabin nearby and had come for the weekend. The springs were dug out to make a series of pools. The water had a strong sulfur smell and we didn’t want our bodies and clothes to smell that way until our next shower so we didn’t get in. The hot bath in the lodge the night before was enough to help relieve our biking pains.

At breakfast, we met the guy who had cleaned the rest stop we camped at the morning before. He was with three coworkers who all worked for the park. They gave us a donation for Habitat as did a couple from Calgary eating at the cafe. Also in the cafe were three young guys raising money for Make-A-Wish Foundation while riding from Anchorage to Miami. They were supported by one mother driving a van. Riding without gear on board, they were able to cover 100 miles a day.

This was our most challenging day of climbing since our Dalton Highway boot camp adventure. Before the serious climbing, we biked across the only suspension bridge on the Alaskan Highway. It was quite a sight. Just down the road from the bridge were some domestic horses with bells around their necks (we were told earlier that the bells helped the owners find the horses on the open range).

We had three substantial climbs. The first was just three miles into our ride from Liard Hot Springs. It was a 2.5 mile climb at 5 to 7% grade. Having ascended this hill, we did not descend much on the downhill. Actually, after a mere 1.5 miles we were climbing again, we just didn’t know it. For 7 miles, there was a gradual ascend. The river was what tipped us off. The water was flowing toward us. What a weird sensation! We followed the river along a very curvy road.

Before we reached a construction zone (we could tell from the dust cloud), we stopped for a snack so we could eat some food before eating some dust. At the end of a mile of construction, we saw our second hill challenge (complete with the chain up sign). Before the climb, Randall was being consumed by mosquitoes so we stopped for him to put on bug repellent. As we achieved about a third of the climb, we could see a herd of stone sheep that was grazing along side the road. Because of our heavy breathing, the sheep kept trotting ahead of us. So we stopped and rested and the sheep stopped as well but still too far away. To catch up to the sheep, we shifted down to the lowest gear which required no heavy breathing and soon, we caught up with the critters for multiple photo opportunities. Now, bugs were attacking Barb, so we made another stop at the top to apply repellent. We knew the hill was steep and the signs at the top confirmed it. The one facing the downhill said 9% grade. The one our direction told the truckers it was time to take the chains off.

A few miles down the road, we were passed by three cyclists, the first bikers to pass us in 1200 miles! Like the guys we met that morning, they were being supported by a vehicle. They were dressed with only their biking shorts and shoes. They had Camelbaks for their water and appeared to have absolutely no gear, not even tubes to fix a flat. No wonder they covered so much ground.

Only halfway into our day, we realized that this day, among all the days spent touring, was special. The climbing was extraordinary and the scenic views were so abundant that we had to go to a second camera memory card for the first time (one card holds approximately 160 photos). There were numerous mountains sprinkled with snow, interesting rock formations, numerous streams with rushing water, several sheep and a gorgeous lake. Having earlier entered the Muncho Lake Provincial Park, we got our first glimpse of Muncho Lake from the north side. Wow, wow, wow! The calm waters were a beautiful turquoise blue.

We biked 2 miles to the Muncho Lake Lodge for a late, 2:30 PM lunch. There, we met a cycling tour group who were biking the Alaskan Highway from south to north. Seventeen men and one woman were staying a couple of days at this lodge, enjoying the scenery. Given that their tour was a supported tour, many had questions about our gear and trip. One curious point one rider made about the Alaskan Highway was that he thought it was easier to go from south to north because the grade is not as steep. Really? After enjoying lunch and answering questions, we finally hit the road again at 4 PM. As we got half way down the lake side road, we met another cyclists headed north. He was among the tour of 18 and was biking the short distance to the post office on his day off. As we continued along, we took many photos of the lake and surrounding mountains. As we reached the end of the lake, we rested at an air landing strip which was just a segment of a rough gravel road. They can land planes there?

We begin to climb again for our third and final long climb of the day. Three miles of uphill. When we reached the top, we saw the usual “Remove the Chains” sign. Making our descent on the other side of the mountain, Randall had to use the disk brake for long stretches because of the curves and the 8 percent grade. A third of the way down, we slowed to get photos of a moose that was terrified of us. We soon reached a point where we had changed our direction 180 degrees. We were now going north. Somehow, back in 1942, the army engineers figured out a way to squeeze a road through these mountains. You look at the approach and wonder, how are we going to get through this “mountain logjam?” Heading north, we saw that the river water was flowing north also and moving rapidly which meant easier cycling for us. The rock formations we saw along the river were just outstanding. The wavy lines in the rocks were abundant as the information board we saw referred to this as “folded mountains.” We reached Poplars Campground just short of Toad Creek at 7:45 PM after a VERY challenging ride and a VERY scenic day.

We ate at the campground cafe as the evening was almost over. While we were enjoying our taco salads, two motorcyclists stopped in to eat. John from Vancouver was traveling with his buddy and was very curious about our trip. We discussed a wide range of topics from NAFTA to the disappearing middle class. He literally tipped his hat to us for doing this journey. He then paid for his meal and went to his cabin. We later went to pay for our meal and were told that John took care of it. We slept in the tent that night which was a mistake as it rained most of the night. We had some water get into the tent (entered through our top side vent) so our sleeping bags were damp in the morning.

Miles cycled – 71

June 15, 2004

We packed our soggy camping equipment and headed down the road for a rainy, wet ride. Just a mile down the road, Randall could hear some noise on the front tire. We stopped to look at it and discovered that one side of the tire was bulging out. There was a second service center just down the road so we limped into that stop and found a storage cabin with an roof overhang to protect us from the rain. Randall found that the tire had a weak area just above the point where it fits into the rim. He tried using duct tape to reinforce and salvage the tire. It did not work. Our only option was to go back to the balding tire that we had earlier taken off the rear tire. We had two days of riding and about 125 miles before Fort Nelson. Was this going to work? All we could do is try. To limit the wear on the tire, we inflated it to only 50 pounds, 20 pounds under the specification. We then disabled the front brake which left us 2 rear brakes (don’t try this at home). We also walked the bike across all bridges with grated decking and on any surface which was gravel (such as turnouts and service areas).

While we were addressing the tire issue, a couple from Pensacola, FL walked by and chatted with us. They asked where in Florida are we going and where in Alaska did we start? The man’s response was “Sweet Jesus” and he didn’t say it casually. He said some things are “absolute” – sometimes you just must do it.

To add more misery to this day, it rained most of the time and we felt like we were pulling a trailer loaded with bricks (because of the wet tent and sleeping bags). We were following the river valley that was filled with short but steep hills and there was a little headwind as we biked into the rain. We reached a construction area where a front loader was cleaning out the ditch (from the mud slides). We awaited the go ahead from the flag man. There were two semi trucks behind us waiting (we thought there was just one truck behind us). From the opposing side, there were about a dozen camping vehicles waiting. We elected to go ahead at the flagman’s signal as there was no room to get off the road for the trucks to pass. As each side advanced down this narrow road, both truck drivers could not wait a minute for the traffic to clear and passed us. Whew!

After an exhausting morning, we stopped along the McDonald River for a snack break. While we were eating in the rain, a lady from Montana stopped and took our picture. She was driving the Alaskan Highway in her car and was hoping to get all the way to Coldfoot on the Dalton Highway. We told her how rough the Dalton Highway was. Seven miles later, we came across a service stop which did not have a cafe but did sell snacks and had a picnic table inside where we could get out of the rain and dry off a little bit. While there, an older couple from Nova Scotia traveling with their adult son talked to us. They thought that both the trip and Habitat were great. She was celebrating her 65th birthday and noted that she could not mountain bike as tough of trails as she used to.

After this stop, we began our ascent up to the Summit. It was not steep but long at 3 miles. We followed the curvy road up and up until we came across more stone sheep. We used the same technique employed with the earlier sheep and geared down to our lowest gear so that we were fairly noise free and less threatening. Barb took lots of photos on the fly as the critters looked up at us. We later reached the Summit and enjoyed the beauty of Summit Lake. There were information boards there with a roof overhang which allowed us to shoot photos without getting the camera wet.

Let the descent begin! After climbing what seemed like all day, we were finally going downhill as it was mostly downhill for the last segment to that night’s stay, the Tetsa River Guest Ranch. We called ahead at noon to reserve a cabin as we really needed to dry out. About 5 miles into our descent, we hit about 2 minutes of 40 mph plus winds as we caught the outskirts of a nearby storm. Arriving at the Guest Ranch, we pulled out all of our gear and hung it up to dry in this rustic cabin. Using the propane heat, we were able to get most everything dried out. The water and the electricity was available from 6:30 AM to 10 PM. After that, if you needed light, you could fire up the propane lights.

Miles cycled – 50

June 16, 2004

 

We got an early, 7 AM start for the last leg to Fort Nelson. We had heard that we had one more big climb on this segment, Steamboat Pass. A close examination of the worn front tire showed some slight wear. One more day of riding to get to town! To further reduce wear on the tire, we took the red bag in front and placed it on the trailer. This would create more stress for rear tire and trailer tire but those tires are in much better shape. For 15 miles we biked along mostly flat terrain and then the climb begun. We shed some clothing as the temperature was heating up and we were about to get warmer as we will be pedaling strenuously. We reached the pass after 6 miles of climbing and four rest stops. Half way up, we could see the road where we had been and wondered, “We were clear down there?!”

At the top, we took lots of photos and someone was available to take our photo with tandem. Another pass climbed and we could smell the roses. We then took off for the glorious descent. Randall squeezed the disk brake lever almost the whole descent as with the front tire issue, we did not want to exceed 25 mph. We reached the Steamboat Mountain Cafe during the descent and stopped there for a late breakfast. The lady at the cafe noted that tourist traffic did not appear to drop as gas sales are good but that fewer people are dining in, electing to eat in their RV instead.

As the highway leveled out, we had level stretches of highway for the first time in a while. The terrain changed as well as the mountains were now behind us. Fort Nelson has the lowest elevation along the Alaska Highway so we were certainly going down, down, down with an occasional up to keep us honest. As we reach Fort Nelson, we saw a large herd of domestic buffalo. Since they were behind a fence, we were more comfortable as we biked by.

The first place we biked to in Fort Nelson was the post office. The lady there indicated that the package sent by Barb’s sister, Susan, had not arrived yet. She said that shipments sometimes get held up in customs 2 to 3 weeks, (express mail doesn’t expedite) so we would be way south before our package arrived. We will have to forward it to another Canadian city before we leave the country to avoid another customs delay. We found a nice motel, Pioneer Motel, which had cabin-style rooms. To our surprise, the rooms had high-speed internet. In fact, most of the hotels in the town had that service, trying to get a competitive advantage, we suppose. The fast internet was very handy as we had a lot of photos to upload.

Miles cycled – 75

June 17 & 18, 2004

So, we needed tires, badly. We knew that there was no bike store in town but we discovered that CMP Sports carried some bike supplies. Lucky for us, they happened to have a couple of touring tires close to the size we needed. We bought one tire to test ride and then purchased the second tire later. With two new tires on the rims, we are in better shape as we also had a used spare to back us up until we received that package wherever.

The next order of business was haircuts. Yes, it had been over a month and we were getting shaggy and it was getting hot outside. We both got our hair cut real short (in fact, Randall’s hair now was longer than Barb’s). We then went to the neighboring pharmacy to get some healing cream for saddle sores (we had used up our entire 8 ounce supply).

We then rode our tandem down to the truck/car wash where we washed down the bike to remove all of the goop from past rainy days. A clean bike always seems to ride better. Randall then lube up the chains and derailleurs. We made multiple trips to the grocery store as we ate out just once (at a local favorite, A & W).

We made a number of calls to try to determine the status of our package. The response was that it was still in customs. Having spent the bulk of Thursday, the 17th, taking care of business and editing photos, we realized that we still wouldn’t get caught up on our web site so we elected to stay another day. Friday afternoon, we went to the local library so Barb could use a computer there while Randall also typed on our laptop. Fort Nelson is a nice size town (around 5,000 to 6,000 population) and easier to get around in than Whitehorse. We enjoyed our stay here although some may think the city is too small.

Miles cycled – 8.5

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I started off in the spring of 2005 thinking about doing a backpack into the Dutch Miller peaks. My plan was to hike the East Fork Foss trail through the Necklace Valley, scramble up to La Bohn lakes and then walk over to Williams Lake and Dutch Miller Gap, exit to Waptus Lake and go around Mt. Daniel and up to Deception Pass via the PCT, ending up hiking out to the Tonga Ridge road where I’d have stashed a bike to get back to the car. It would have been a serious nine day trip – but I had done various parts of it and the only piece that was a stretch was the scramble up to La Bohn Gap. I had done that years ago on the way to climb Hinman and I figured that if I scheduled it for a really short day I could do it and then come back down and carry Odette’s pack up. I remembered it as steep but not scary.

Will and I did a TOPO! route and profile and figured out where the camps would be, but then I kind of backed off because of scheduling confusion and the potential to team up with Art on a trip to the Pasayten. We ended up cutting a couple of days off the front end of our trip because Will wasn’t getting back from China until that Saturday and said he had a school meeting on Sunday. Odette booked a flight to Denver for 6:00 in the morning the Monday after the trip was supposed to end and I felt like she was hoping that we’d cut back on that end, too.

I toyed with going up the Middle Fork Snoqualmie to the gap and back via the PCT and Red Mountain pass. It would have been within our abilities, but with only one layover day and no margin of error on the final day over Red Mountain pass and down to the hot springs it seemed like it might be a lot of trail walking and not enough high-country exploring. I finally settled on going in from Cooper Lake, hiking to Spectacle Lake for the first night, then to Escondido ridge for the second night, followed by three nights at Lake Ivanhoe and then a night at Waptus Lake and out up Quick Creek and down Tired Creek. The first three days (and the last one) were a little bit long at 10 – 12 miles, but it was mainly on the PCT so it seemed like we’d be able to handle it. I didn’t exactly focus on elevation gain.

We didn’t really pack until that Sunday and then it was just the usual – Odette took too much clothing and we had more food and fuel than we needed. Odette made up three big first aid kits and we ended up taking two of them. I threw in full rain gear for all of us and a tarp that I could rig as a kitchen fly, because we were supposed to get drizzle Monday night. I took an ice axe because I planned to scramble Little Big Chief and La Bohn if I couldn’t get Will to do stuff with me. I lent Will a leatherman after he told me that he’d lost his swiss army knife to the TSA when he flew to Chicago the previous spring. It turned out that Will didn’t really have a meeting on Sunday. Odette wasn’t happy with my usual trail mix for lunch so I told her that she was in charge of snacks and lunches. We went to three or four different stores Sunday afternoon to get stuff and ended up with a different mix for each day. (We also ended up with a bunch of new clothes for Odette.)

Lunches on a couple of the days were to include chocolate covered cherries but we ended up with chocolate raisins and didn’t think about melting temperatures. Odette swore that she was getting me a fruit/nut bar that I’d like in lieu of candy, but I discovered that they tasted like cardboard and ended up returning with all but one of them. Will wanted something other than trail mix so we let him get jalapeno tortillas, brie and mango chutney with the idea that he would put together a wrap each day. We put the chutney in a tube. Will had trouble getting all of his stuff in his pack and asked me for help. I stowed his tent in the outside compartment and then put his camera case on a side strap. All of the packs ended up too heavy – mine weighed 65 lbs, Will’s was 55 lbs and Odette’s was 35lbs.

On Monday morning we got up early and had large breakfasts at Beth’s Cafe on Aurora. We drove over the pass on I-90 (listening to Will’s music on his iPod shuffle.) We took the bullfrog cutoff and the Salmon La Sac road out to the Cooper Lake turnoff. We parked at the Pete Lake trailhead and put our packs on. The first few miles were flat and easy. We had lunch at Pete Lake. Odette objected to leaving the trail to get to the shore of the lake. The crossing of Lemah creek was cold but the water was low. Odette objected to that, too. I took my pack across, then came back and escorted Will while carrying Odette’s pack. Then I came back and walked across with Odette. She screamed. A little later, just after picking up the PCT in dense brush, she scared up a couple of yellowjackets that got me twice on my right shin. The switchbacks at the end of the day up to Spectacle Lake were brutal with our heavy day-one packs. We missed the unmarked “staircase” and took the main trail up to the lake. The map said it was an extra half-mile but it felt longer than that. Will’s GPS told us how close we were – as the crow flies. Odette and Will decided that ten-mile days were too hard and that it was my fault. That kind of became their mantra as we plodded along. Every time we stopped I hoisted Odette’s pack for her, Will’s pack for him and then my own pack. I ate a lot of huckleberries at the end of the line. The waytrail down to the lake was long and rocky but we found a spot near the water with views of Lemah, Chikamin and Three Queens. We set up camp as we watched clouds building over the crest of the range. We had dinner (but we were all too worn out to want ramen) and went right to bed. Will struggled with a broken zipper on his tent. It had been a 1,500 foot day.

In the morning clouds were still boiling over the crest. I shifted some stuff from Odette’s pack to mine but Will didn’t think he had room to take any more. He did after I put the tent on the side and put the camera on the front using the pack’s elastic cord. We hiked back up to the PCT and then down the switchbacks losing 1,000 of the 1,500 feet we climbed the previous day. We seemed to spend a long time in the bottoms of Lemah Creek. Eventually we came to an old burn that permitted views up to the glaciers on Chimney Rock. The sun was in and out of the clouds all day and occasionally those clouds spit on us. The switchbacks up from Lemah Meadows to Escondido Ridge weren’t steep but they seemed very long. I brought up the rear and once again had a lot of time for huckleberries. Every time we stopped and put our packs down Will had to be careful that he didn’t crush his camera and having it on the front of the pack meant he couldn’t flop his pack down and sit on it. We topped out on the ridge at about 5:00 and hiked a little way to a pretty little lake, but people had already taken the camp site there. We went on a quarter of a mile and camped in a spot where a trail party had evidently abandoned a tarp. It was an okay site with a view down to the lake but with a walk for water. Will took one of the summit packs and a pot and bag to haul water for us. Odette set up the kitchen on a slanted rock while claiming ignorance about how to set up the stove. I set up both tents, trying not to hurt the heather. I messed up the zipper on our tent. I broke the head of off one stake. We had climbed about 2,000 feet from the Lemah Creek crossing and we wanted the ramen with dinner that night. I read enough of the route descriptions to decide that the little lake was probably one of the Vista Lakes on the approach to Summit Chief. Even at that elevation Odette couldn’t get a cell signal.

It was cold overnight and we woke to frost on our stuff. There were no longer any clouds, though, so we had clear views of Three Queens, Lemah, Chimney Rock, Summit Chief and Bear’s Breast. Mt. Rainier was visible if you walked up the hill a little. We filtered water from a pot and packed up, with Will putting his stuff in Odette’s pack since it had more room. We hiked a couple miles on the ridge winding through the tarns and traversing above Escondido Lake. Mt. Stuart came into view as we rounded the ridge. Then we descended a bunch of annoying switchbacks to get down to the Waptus River – giving up all 2,000 feet we climbed the previous day and then some. Odette fell off the trail and ripped her pants while picking a huckleberry. I gave her a bad time for poor technique. After a short flat jungle section on the Dutch Miller Gap trail, we started climbing up to the Gap. Big creeks seemed to disappear in boulder fields and reappear on the wrong side of the trail. Odette began to slow way down so I pulled the sleeping bag (damn near all that was left) out of her pack and strapped it on top of mine. It was 5:00 again (after another 1,500 feet of climbing and plenty of huckleberries for me) when we finally found a camp site we liked on the east side of Lake Ivanhoe. We couldn’t figure out how to fit two tents on the dirt next to the water so we snuggled them together in the gap between a rock outcropping and the cliff below the trail. I ran a line from the top of the rock to a tree below the trail to hang the food bags. The sun went down early since the lake was in a hole, but it was warmer than it had been the previous night. Odette managed to break the zippers on both tents.

We slept in the next morning and didn’t get out of camp until about 10:00. We hiked on around the lake (looking for the shelter that was supposed to be at the head of the lake) and climbed through the waterfall to the gap. We stopped and rested at the gap and admired the scenery. We hiked down from the gap to the Williams Lake junction and then up to that lake. We headed around the right-hand side of the lake and stopped for lunch when the path petered out in boulders. Will and I hiked up to a tailing pile and looked into a mine there. The stuff in the tunnel was from relatively recent mining activity. The huckleberries from the last couple of days caught up with me and and I decided that abstinence was a virtue. Afterwards we went on around the lake and then hiked back up to the gap and down to Ivanhoe. We continued our circumnavigation of the lake still looking for the shelter. We found a set of nice campsites across the lake from our camp, but no shelter. We crossed the broken bridge at the outlet and got back to camp early in the afternoon and relaxed with tea and books.

The next day we got up early and hiked to Williams Lake again. Will and I left Odette there and climbed back up to the mine where we picked up the old miners trail to the Chain Lakes basin. We had to poke around a little to find the route in the trees, and then in the boulders we followed an abundance of cairns up to the basin. As we topped out on the lip of the basin we found a roofless stone shelter with lots of mining artifacts. We walked over to a flat spot above a smaller lake where lots of thick weathered planks were stockpiled. We walked from there to the main lake where tailings indicating a mine. The rocks at the outlet were stained red from the minerals in the tailings. The adits and shafts were fascinating – but not solid enough to make you think about entering. The rock was really interesting with many little crystals and colors ranging from red to purple and blue. A lot of it was really oxidized and there were metallic looking pebbles scattered around. We traced the vein over to another lake and located another open vertical shaft in the process. There were lots of artifacts scattered around.

We walked across immense slabs and then climbed the gentle ridge next to La Bohn Peak so that we could look down into La Bohn Gap. We walked around the wooded knob on the ridge until we could look down at the Necklace Lakes and Lake Angeline. We rested by a pretty little tarn at 6,000 feet. We had a 360 degree view and the Dutch Miller peaks were most impressive. There was a small sharp peak almost due north of us that I couldn’t identify – maybe Bald Eagle Peak. Mt. Baker was visible in the background. We continued to the La Bohn Lakes and then returned on the other side of the knob to the Chain Lakes basin. We picked our way around a couple of the other lakes, recrossed the slabs and went around another lake to the final adit. This one was solid but only went back a few feet. Then we walked back to the roofless shelter and started following cairns back down the boulder field to Williams Lake. We collected Odette there and hiked back to Dutch Miller Gap. On the way down to Lake Ivanhoe we stopped at the plunge pool of the waterfall and I jumped in – losing my bandana in the process. We turned left on the Ivanhoe Loop – still not having found the shelter. We had dinner early (including ramen) and afterwards I walked around the outlet end of the lake to the campsites we’d seen to explore them and see if there was a shelter on that point. There wasn’t.

In the morning we packed up early and headed for Waptus Lake. Somehow I was still carrying the sleeping bag – but inside my pack now. We were happy to get the switchbacks down out of the way before it got hot. The creek bottom before we got to the lake was impenetrable jungle – but I decided that I wasn’t abstaining from raspberries. All of the campsites by the lake looked too horsy and it was too early to camp so we decided to continue, thinking we’d stop when we crossed the Waptus River at the outlet from the lake. We had lunch at Spinola Creek crossing. Will’s brie was starting to get pretty strong. We were taken by the sign for Trail 1337 to Spade Lake which Will and I, at least, adopted as our new mantra. We found a nice site at the bridge but it was hot and there were flies and it was still early afternoon, so we filtered water and then continued along the river looking for something that would make the last day short. The trail was exceptionally dusty and there was a lot of horse traffic. We found one site we liked but there were horses in it. We found an even better one but there were hikers already there. We continued hiking and hit the Salmon La Sac campground at about 6:00. Will and I left Odette there and ran the five miles up the Cooper River to our car. We’d done about 20 miles, 15 of it with packs, and we were feeling 1337 indeed. We were back to Odette by 7:30 and then cleaned up in the river.

We got to Rosalyn before the Rosalyn Cafe closed and had dinner there. We drove back to Seattle and got home before midnight – a day earlier than planned. There was enought battery life left in the iPod to get us music all the way home. We didn’t get out on the bike the next day but we had time to do laundry and catch up on email and stuff before getting up at 4:00 the next morning to take Odette to the airport.

Here’s a link to a book list.

Here’s a link to some photos from the trip.

Here’s a link to the TOPO! route of the planned trip (showing us coming out up Quick Creek and down Tired Creek instead of our actual route down the Waptus River and up the Cooper River.)

The week before labor day in 2000 Will and I hiked from Phelps Creek to Holden.

On Saturday morning Odette dropped us off at the Phelps creek trailhead (about three miles from the old mining town of Trinity.) It was a day of broken clouds with a forecast of unsettled weather for the weekend followed by warm and dry days on the east slope of the Cascades.

We hiked to Spider Meadow – five miles in about five hours. There were a couple of large groups there and it felt like the meadow was teeming with people. Most alarming was the number of dogs – which I thought were not allowed in the wilderness area. We dropped our packs in an established campsite (near the toilet at the lower end of the meadow) and went off to see if we could find something better. After exploring for about an hour we settled on a dark tent spot in the woods just below the junction where the trail to Phelps Basin and the trail to Spider Col separate. There wasn’t any water but it was off the trail and there wasn’t anybody else around. I went back about a mile and retrieved our packs. I strapped Will’s on top of mine and hauled them both (100 pounds?) up to the new camp. That heavy of a load works a lot better if it is centered and stable! Our freeze-dry that evening was lasagna.

The second day we hiked to the foot of the Spider Glacier. This was a short hike (a little over a mile?) but it was a steep old miners trail that took unpredictable turns and wove in and around cliffs. We camped on a knob at the foot of the glacier which meant we had to climb down to get water but had a stupendous view. After setting up the tent we took our lunch and scrambled up to the ridge, first over slabs and heather, then over boulders and snow. It was windy at the top but we had a great view of Phelps Ridge, Red Mountain, Chiwawa, Maude, Seven Fingered Jack, Dumbell, Fernow and the various basins. I understood that there was a scramble route from Chiwawa to the foot of the Spider Glacier that you could use after you climbed the Lyman Glacier. We weren’t tempted to continue on to Chiwawa, though, since the connecting ridge had a bunch of spires and the drop into the basin and then back up to the summit looked like a lot of work. We were in and out of showers or clouds all afternoon, and often the precipitation was solid enough to collect as snow on our jackets. I was pretty sure that the weather the next day would be better, but the clouds were intimidating as they seemed to form right above our heads from the air blowing over the ridge. We returned to camp and had a freeze-dry dinner of oriental vegetables.

The third day we climbed to Spider Col. We left camp before nine and the snow was firm but our steps felt secure. We stopped about every half-hour to rest and ascended under warm sun and clear skys. We took off our packs a couple of times to explore the rocks in the side walls of the gully, leaving the packs anchored to an ice axe. At the top we dropped our packs and followed the trail on around looking for the mine adit. We never found the mine but could see a route down that didn’t involve walking down the snowfield. (Manning says that the mine is about a quarter mile from the Col, but we went a good three-quarters of a mile before deciding to forego a long steep snow patch.) We were also looking for the nests of tourmaline needles that Crowder & Tabor say are in the rocks around the Col, but we didn’t find them either. We had lunch and then hiked back over the Col to look down into Phelps Basin. After poking around the bivy sites at the Col for a while, we decided that the snow was as soft as it was going to get and we started our descent to Lyman Lake. This is the crux of the trip in terms of technique – the first hundred feet was steep and there was another steep section about half way down where the fall line changed. My steps went in about an inch – Wills weren’t as deep because he didn’t have as much weight driving them. We both did fine, though, and we pretty much plunge-stepped the full length of the main snow field to a gap in the moraine where we could cross rocks to a lower snow field. We noticed a family of mountain goats high on the ridge but they weren’t paying any attention to us. We descended the lower snowfield (avoiding some icy patches and noticing incipient “crevasses”) and then descended about four hundred feet on rubble and boulders to the lake shore. We sat by the lake for quite a while looking at the Lyman Glacier and playing with bits of ice (“bergy bits”.) In the middle of the afternoon we started out beside the lake and followed the watercourse down to the outlet of upper Lyman Lake. We picked up a trail about a mile above the outlet, about where we started to see trees again. We had some trouble finding a good way across the outlet creek, but the best campsite we could find was on the other side so we got ourselves and our packs over and camped on the moraine below the upper lake. Words aren’t adequate to convey how special this place is – the whole valley from the snout of the glacier to the moraine where we camped is a series of old moraines and behind each one is a little lake. The stream meanders around between them and the vegetation goes from trees and grass at the moraine to bare rubble near the glacier in a gentle graduation. Our tent site wasn’t exactly flat – it sloped down to our heads and we both wanted to roll toward the middle. There were also clouds of gnats. It was, however, near water. The freeze-dry was chili-mac with beef. We left the tent door open to see the stars,but decided to close it as we were reading because of a breeze.

The fourth day dawned wet – as in steady drizzle. We packed up and boulder-hopped on wet rocks to get down to the lower Lyman Lake. We picked up the trail at the bottom of the boulder field and walked along the lake shore in the rain to the outlet where we found a sheltered spot to pitch the tent. It rained all afternoon but we had reading material so we just holed up in the tent and stayed dry. We set up the stove just outside of the vestibule and our freeze-dry was black bart chili.

The fifth day was sunny and warm so we started by drying bedding and the tent in the sun. Then we hiked down to Hart Lake. The trail was good but long – something like four and a half miles. It descends with a lot of switchbacks from sub-alpine into jungle vegetation. The huckleberries around Lyman Lake were exceptional. Lower down they changed to salal which isn’t as tasty, but there were lots of excellent wild raspberries and some salmon berries. There is a magnificent view of the Railroad Creek waterfall at Crown Point. We had lunch at the Rebel Campsite and even though Crowder & Tabor say the camping is better there than at the lake, we decided to go on for the next mile. We found a fine tent site at Hart Lake even if it was almost right on the trail. It was so hot that even Will didn’t want to get in the tent that afternoon. We washed legs and hair in the lake and walked along the shore. We admired the cliffs of Bonanza. We sat by the water and read. When some horse people stopped right in our camp to adjust their tack we went back to the tent to protect our turf. It took them a long time to figure out that they and their dog weren’t welcome – by which time Will had fallen asleep in the hot tent. I had tea and read for a couple of hours before a dinner of Katmandu Curry freeze-dry.

The sixth day we walked the remaining three miles to Holden Village. We (or at least I) continued to snack on raspberries. We startled at least two bears during our walk – we could hear them tearing through the brush but didn’t get to see them. When we came to the wilderness boundary we saw the camp sites (and the horse people from the day before) but I wasn’t sure if that was the ballpark so we continued toward Holden. After about half a mile we found a sign directing us back the way we came so we returned and claimed a campsite right on the edge of the field. Later we were joined by a German woman who seemed anxious for company. The middle of the ballpark had been set out as a labyrinth (using twine and sawdust) and after reading about the meditative process we followed it to its center. Will and I agreed that it felt a lot like hiking, both physically and metaphysically. We wandered on into Holden and registered for the next day’s bus. Knowing that our last remaining freeze-dry was chicken primavera, Will prevailed on me to have dinner in the village – spinach lasagna.

Holden is a collection of buildings built in the 1930’s to house miners. There is a big hotel building with a dinning hall seating a couple hundred people and maybe six detatched lodges. There are assorted outbuilding housing workshops, a school, etc. There is a post office and store where we were able to buy candy and black and white film. The Village houses a Lutheran retreat center and must have some paid staff but it seemed that most of the crew was volunteer – mainly teenage girls. There was a prayer before dinner and some “camp songs” after, but nothing particularly objectionable. We toured the portal museum where there were some artifacts from the mine, some local records and curiosities, and a lot of amateur geology. The best pieces were the snow cats that are still in service – three bombardiers from the late forties or early fifties still used when the road can’t be plowed. They look like 1940 Fords with sloping prow-shaped rear ends. One of them had a series of port holes curving down the sides. Steering was with runners. The state and federal land management and environmental agencies are reopening the mine, ostensibly to combat water pollution. I’m not sure how going underground fits into that process, and it occurrs to me that the ore body has been leaching away for many, many years without any regulation. The guys (and women) on the project sure seemd to enjoy the work, though. We also walked through the site of the miners village and considered what our neighborhood would look like fifty years after the wilderness was allowed to return.

The morning of the seventh day we packed up and walked into the village where we tagged our packs for the fast boat to Chelan. We hung out with the fat chipmunks until the bus left and then rode the twelve miles to Lucerne. We had about an hour in warm sun to wait for the Lady Express and then had a two hour ride to the lower end of the lake. I spent the trip evesdropping as one of the teenage volunteers described her recreational drug and psychotherapy experiences to her mom. In Chelan we discovered that the Mapquest map and directions were screwed up – after walking three miles in the wrong direction. We caught the bus back out to our motel, but the driver forgot to let us off and took us almost a mile beyond the Best Western, so we walked back – probably doing five miles with our packs the day after the trip was supposed to be over! We didn’t have a car and didn’t want to walk the three miles into Chelan so we weren’t pleased to find that the hotel didn’t have a restaurant. We ended up settling for burgers and milkshakes from EZ burger, not the meal I was looking forward to at the end of the trip. The shower felt good, through. Odette showed up at about 7:00, much earlier than I had anticipated. She hadn’t eaten so we went into town and had desert with her.

The eighth day, Saturday, was cloudy and cool. We went to the Echo Ridge nordic ski area and did the eight and one-half mile mountain bike loop in the Kirkendall book. It was really good fun with enough climbing to feel like we’d gotten a workout. No freeze-dry that night either and I finally got my steak and a beer.

The ninth day we drove up to Shady Pass and I rode the bike down into the Entiat valley. Once again it was cloudy and cool with some periods of rain. Will put up a major fuss but ended up riding about five miles with me – downhill. Odette drove. I did about two miles of steep climbing and about fourteen miles of wild downhill on good dirt roads. I decided that it was almost as good as skiing.

The tenth day, Labor Day, dawned sunny but with big dark clouds covering the northern half of the sky. Even though Will was unhappy that he wasn’t going to get the water park he’d been looking forward to, we packed up early and drove back to Seattle.

Here are some images from our trip. (Will carried his digital camera but only remembered to take pictures on a couple of days, so the first few images are in color and the rest are black & white, developed and printed by Will and me and then scanned)

Here is the equipment list we used to prepare for the trip.

Here is a book list related to this area.

KEY WORD SEARCHES.

climbing – all books about getting to the top of stuff
climb guide – "where to" guides
climb technique – "how to" books
climb gear – small number of books about hardware
climb literature – literature (mainly climbing narratives) about climbing, much of it away from the Cascades

hiking – all books about trails and puting one foot in front of the other
hike guide – "where to" guides
hike gear – small number of books about gadgets
snowshoe – books about hiking in the winter

biking – all books about bicycles
bike guide – "where-to" guides
bike tour – technique for multi-day bike trips
bike gear – hardware (mainly maintenance and repair books)

skiing – all books about glisse sports
ski tour – overnight ski trips
ski mountaineering – sumits on skis
ski technique – bend the knees, $5 please
ski gear – tuning, waxing, etc

mountain rescue – SAR
first aid – injury treatment
avalanche – snow slides

natural history – all books about the environment
plants – vegetable kingdom
animals – birds, fish, mamals, etc.

history – recorded (human) occurances
railroad – books about one of the driving forces of our regional history

geology – earth sciences
mining – extractive industries

photography – design and production of images
paddle sports – kayak and canoe

San Juans – islands in the north sound
North Cascades – pretty much north of Mt. Rainier
Mt. Rainier – the mountain you see from Seattle
South Cascades – south of Mt. Rainier
Eastern Washington – east of the crest (enchantments, chelan, teanneway, paseyten)
Olympics – the peninsula (national park, beaches, mountains)

Puget Sound – the metropolis

Mt. Hood – the mountain you see from Portand
Western Oregon – west of the cascades
Eastern Oregon – high desert
Wallowas – northeast mountains (eagle cap wilderness)

British Columbia – vancouver island to the rockies
Idaho – famous potatoes
California – left coast
Alaska – sourdoughs
Southwest – arizona, new mexico, utah

Europe – excluding the russian far east
Himalaya – all of the big mountains
Latin America – mexico, central america, south america