Pages

Tuesday, March 28, 2023

Robyn's 2022 NorthStar Adventure: A Spectacularly Glacial Finish (Missive 8)

NOTE:  This is the eighth missive for Robyn's 2022 NorthStar bike-packing adventure from Deadhorse, Alaska, to Whitefish, Montana. The seventh missive can be found at https://attitude-maneuver.blogspot.com/2023/03/robyns-2022-northstar-adventure-alberta.html. The ninth, final missive can be found at https://attitude-maneuver.blogspot.com/2023/03/robyns-2022-northstar-adventure-rolling.html.

* * * * * * * *

Slideshow

slideshow of photos from my ride from Jasper, AB, to Whitefish, MT, can be found at https://photos.app.goo.gl/U7VAE4qzR5aZUFwY6.

* * * * * * * *

Missive No. 8:  A Spectacularly Glacial Finish

It has been two weeks since my last missive, so long that I sent a placeholder missive when I was in Fernie lest anyone worry that something might have happened to me. My silence was due to one reason only: the spectacular nature of my final days in Canada and my equally spectacular return to the US through Glacier National Park. It's been quite a two weeks in all good senses. 

If there is one adjective to describe the past two weeks, it's "glacial." Add to that "spectacular" and you have my second adjective. 

My route south from Fernie took me down the Icefields Parkway in Jasper National Park. On the second day I climbed to the Columbia Icefields, for the first time in my life actually seeing glaciers, not just viewing them in photos or videos. The majesty of these flowing rivers of ice is beyond my ability to describe in words. I experienced a sense of awe all through my climb that continued as I stood on the viewing platforms at the Icefields visitors' center. From the exhibits at the visitors' center, I also came to understand just how fast they are shrinking. The Columbia glaciers feed rivers that flow into the Arctic, Pacific, and Hudson's Bay watersheds. The fate of those rivers is tied to the fate of the glaciers. 

Add to this that I ended these two weeks in Glacier National Park in Montana. Despite the name, there are no glaciers today in Glacier National Park. Rather, the spectacular topography of the park was carved by glaciers that once were. Of all the national parks I have visited so far, Glacier is my favorite. I fell in love with the park when I first visited it while riding the Northern Tier route to Washington State in 2020. I knew then that I wanted to return, and I chose it as the endpoint for this summer's journey. 

"Glacial" and "spectacular:" those are the adjectives that describe these two weeks. 

But there is a third: "human." These two weeks were "people weeks," the opposite of the solitude with which I began this journey in the far north. 

Most of all there was Bakhtiyor and his wife Nargiza. Bakhtiyor was our long-serving Scientific Affairs Specialist at the U.S. Embassy in Tashkent, Uzbekistan. His background is in water resource management, and he taught me everything I know about water politics -- and melting glaciers -- in Central Asia when I worked with him in 2008-10. Bakhtiyor and Nargiza later emigrated to Canada and now live in Calgary with their two children. They drove out from Calgary and treated me to dinner when I reached Castle Junction just beyond Lake Louise. 

My choice of accommodations along the Icefields Parkway also made for a people experience. Instead of tenting, I stayed at wilderness hostels operated by Hostels International of Canada. "Wilderness" is the key word, as these are primitive hostels without electricity or running water. (An exception is the hostel at Castle Junction that has both of these amenities and showers and a laundry to boot.) Sleeping arrangements are dormitory style with shared kitchen and bathroom. In short, they are a great place to meet other travelers. In the course of four hostel nights, I met young travelers from France, Germany, and Belgium in addition to from the US and Canada. Most of all I should mention Marco from Calgary. He was riding a Brompton folding bicycle down the Icefields Parkway, and we were together in hostels for two nights. Marco is only the second Brompton rider I have known, the other being Rupert, my bicycle buddy -- and also accomplished writer -- from my time in Romania. 

Staying at hostels led to another trail magic experience. I had climbed halfway up to the Columbia Icefields when I realized I had left my bear spray behind at the Beauty Creek Hostel. There was no way I was going to ride back down and repeat a hard climb. "I'll just have to buy it again," I thought. 

Soon after this realization, I turned off the road at a viewpoint. As I stopped, I heard a woman speaking Russian. I asked, "Откуда Вы?" ("Where are you from?") The woman was Ol'ga traveling with her husband Sergey and college-age son Grisha. They are Ukrainians now living in Canada. We started speaking in Russian. They asked all about my trip. When I mentioned that I had left my bear spray behind, they insisted on driving me back to the hostel to retrieve it. Saving a traveler in their moment of need from a problem of their own creation is the very definition of trail magic. Огромное Вам спасибо Сергей, Оля, и Гриша! (Great thanks to you Sergey, Olya, and Grisha!) 

These were a busy but happy two weeks with so many impressions that I can't describe them all. I can't conclude, however, without mentioning the Lions Club breakfast I went to after camping at the Wasa Lake Provincial Park. John, who was selling tickets at the entrance, refused to charge me when he saw me ride up on WoodsWoman. My breakfast was his treat. A certain buzz started to circulate in the breakfast pavilion about the woman who had biked all the way from Alaska. A singer who was providing live entertainment sang "North to Alaska." 

So here I am at my end point for this NorthStar adventure. I am camping at Glacier for four days, just soaking in the Glacier experience and relaxing after riding more than 3000 miles. On Tuesday I will ride 30 miles over to Whitefish, where I will stay for two nights at the Whitefish Bicycle Retreat. (I first stayed there two years ago with my Brazilian bicycling friend Leandro.). On Thursday I board Amtrak for a trip on multiple trains that will take me as far as Brunswick, Maine. From there I have a final four days of riding ahead of me before I reach my home in little Burlington. You may expect a final missive from me, my epilogue and summation for what has been an epic summer. 

How far have I ridden since my last missive? My log shows 595 miles. I'm rounding that upward and donating $60 in support of independent Russian journalists at TV Dozhd'. Please consider joining me in this support to a talented, brave crew of journalists who continue to report uncensored news in the Russian language. You will find donation links at https://tvrain.tv/donate-en/. Thank you to all who have joined me in supporting Dozhd'! 

My luck has held with the weather as I rode under clear skies these two weeks. The only exception was my crossing of Logan Pass in Glacier, which was covered in cold mist at a temperature of 0C (32F). Even that I consider to have been a lucky break, as the forecast called for rain. It seems I paid my rain dues in the north.


* * * * * * * *

Daily Log


Sunday, August 28, 2022 -- 4533 km cum - 88 km/day

A good 55-mile first day of climbing up the Icefields Parkway.  Spectacular Alpine views.  Along the way I met Marco, who is riding a Brompton folding bike.  We're checked in together at the HI Beauty Creek hostel for the night.


Monday, August 29, 2022 -- 4589 km cum - 56 km/day

Today I climbed to Sumwata Pass -- pushing WoodsWoman up 2-3 km of the way -- and rode through the Columbia Icefields.  This may well be the exclamation point on my summer.  I don't think I have ever experienced anything as spectacularly beautiful as what I saw today.  It's the first time I have ever seen a glacier with my own eyes.

I also had my third encounter with trail magic today.  About a quarter of the way into my climb, I turned into a view point.  As I did, I looked down and realized I had left my bear spray at the Beauty Creek hostel.  At almost the same time, I heard a woman speaking Russian.  I asked, "Откуда Вы?"  It turned out to be Оля from Ukraine traveling with her husband Сергей and college-age son Гриша.  They asked all about my bike travels.  When I got to my bear spray sob story, they insisted on driving me back to the hostel to retrieve it.  That's trail magic, a miraculous intervention when one scarcely deserves it.

I am checked in for a second night together with Marco.  (We met on the road on Sunday.  He's riding a Brompton folding bike.)  We're at the Rampart Creek hostel.  My "shower" was a fully clothed dip into the creek followed by a dry-off in the hostel's sauna.

In short, this was a very good day.


Tuesday, August 30, 2022 -- 4655 km cum - 66 km/day

Another climbing day over Bow Mountain.  Not as scenic as yesterday but still pretty, especially at Bow Lake where I stopped for a beer (!) and a snack.  I'm at the Mosquito Creek hostel tonight, some 24km short of Lake Louise.


Wednesday, August 31, 2022 -- 4719 km cum - 64 km/day

Thursday, September 1, 2022 -- 4831 km cum - 112 km/day

I'm out of the Banff & Kootenay National Parks and back to a 50+ mile day -- in fact 70 miles -- for the first time since Jasper.

On Wednesday I left the Mosquito Creek hostel early and had breakfast at a cafe in Lake Louise village.  (The young man at the counter was Egor', a Ukrainian refugee from Bucha.)  I then rode up the steep hill to Lake Louise itself where the views were impressive despite the crowds of people.  How different it feels to be in a tourist area after spending so much of my summer in the remote north.

I arrived early at the Castle Mountain hostel -- the most luxurious hostel yet with electricity, running water, and laundry -- but the highlight of the day was dinner at the Stone Mountain Lodge with Bakhtiyor and his wife Nargiza.  They drove out specially from Calgary to take me to dinner.  It's hard to believe that fourteen years have passed since Bakhtiyor and I first worked together in Tashkent.  I'm so glad that they emigrated to a better life in Canada.

Today was a sandwich of two mountain passes, Vermillion at the start and Sinclair at the end.  In between was all downhill.  (I took a break for nearly an hour at Vermillion Crossing, where I met a fitness cyclist from Banff who was doing an "out-and-back ride.")  I'm camped tonight at Dry Gulch Provincial Campground just to the east of Radium Hot Springs.  This is my first camping night since Mt. Robson.

It is September 1.  My train reservation from Whitefish is for September 15.  This summer's journey that once seemed, in the good sense, endless, is approaching its end.


Friday, September 2, 2022 -- 4939 km cum - 108 km/day

A hot day with a persistent headwind finds me at the Wasa Lake Provincial Park.  It was a long slog despite an early start and breakfast in Invermere.  Add to this that Rts. 93/95 do not have dramatic scenery.  They are just roads.

That said, this campground has showers, and I was able to buy a single beer.  It's a good end to a long 68-mile day.


Saturday, September 3, 2022 -- 5055 km cum - 116 km/day

I hesitated at doing a third big mileage day in a row, but in fact this turned out to be an easy and downright pleasant day.

The day started with a delightful Lions Club pancake breakfast at Wasa Lake.  John, the ticket seller at the community center entrance, insisted on treating me to breakfast.  I sat and chatted with Dawn and Ivan.  A local singer provided musical entertainment replete with a rendition of "North to Alaska."

The ride itself was not as hilly as I expected and was much more scenic than yesterday's despite a planned burn near Bull Mountain.  Moreover, a wickedly wonderful tailwind pushed me flying up the Elk River valley into Fernie.

I'm checked in at the Raging Elk Hostel in "sleeping pod No. 12."  I'll take my final rest and laundry day here tomorrow before turning south to Montana.  I've already showered and am now enjoying a light dinner and an IPA in the hostel's pub.  This hostel has a pub!  Imagine that!

All in all, this day unexpectedly turned out to be one of my best.


Monday, September 5, 2022 -- 5127 km cum - 72 km/day

Today, unexpectedly, was the easiest riding day of the summer.  I left Fernie shortly after 10 a.m. and was checked into the Travelodge in Blairmore at 2 p.m.  That's forty-five miles in four hours, in part because this was my "Fargo Day," a day fueled by a good tailwind like the one I remember outside Fargo two years ago.  Just how strong is something I realized a few times when curves in the road had me riding into the wind.  It almost seemed a shame to stop riding so early.  However. . . .

There has been a change in my route.  The border crossing on Chief Mountain International Highway is closed.  On Saturday evening I happened to check the Adventure Cycling forums.  It's a good thing I did.  That's how I learned about the closure.  AC has a detour to the crossing at Carway, but it adds some 80 km -- a day's ride -- to the normal route.  And so. . . .

Instead of a 3-day ride into the US, I have a 4-day ride.  If I were willing to do long 70-mile days as I did last week, I could still be there in three, but the ends of the first two riding days would leave me in the middle of nowhere with no campground, hostel, or hotel.  And so, I will enjoy these shorter days and a few cheap motel nights.

Early in today's ride I felt tears welling up.  "Last Time on the Road" is beginning to play in my head.


Tuesday, September 6, 2022 -- 5256 km cum - 129 km/day

Scratch what I wrote about shorter days.  I checked the forecast and saw that rain is predicted to the north of Glacier on Friday.  I do **not** want to attempt to cross Logan Pass in the rain.  And so, I pushed right through Pincher Creek, my intended short destination for today, and kept going a full eighty miles to Cardston, where I'm at the Flamingo, truly a cheap hotel at less than $100 CAD.  The wind was a hindrance, not a help today, but the terrain was almost flat.  This part of Alberta feels like a northern extension of Montana's Hi-Line.  The Icefields of last week are but a memory

I'm only 25km from the border.  Tomorrow I'll be in Montana.


Wednesday, September 7, 2022 -- 5321 km cum - 65 km/day

So close but yet so far.  I am in Montana and in Glacier National Park (GNP) at the Rising Sun campground after a 65km day that left me far more exhausted than yesterday's 129km.  Why?  Wind.  A strong, gusty headwind that at times felt gale force.  This was particularly true from the Canadian border to Babb.  I had to pedal hard **downhill** and push on the flats, not to mention the uphills.  I feel lucky to have made it to Rising Sun.

Tomorrow I cross Logan Pass and end my journey at Lake McDonald.  The weather forecast:  rain.  Why am I not surprised?


Thursday, September 8, 2022 -- 5398 km cum - 77 km/day (Writing on Friday, September 9)

I've done it, surprising myself by pedaling all the way up to Logan Pass.  The climb is easier from Rising Sun that from Apgar, and I had a good tailwind.  Still, this year, unlike in my ride from Apgar in 2020, I was carrying all of my weight.  Forgive me if I say I'm as pleased as punch with myself.

But it was downright freezing at Logan Pass.  I mean that literally.  I overheard a ranger say that it was 32F (0C).  Although the predicted rain did not materialize -- thank goodness -- the tops of the peaks were shrouded in mist.  I quickly changed into warmer clothes, but still I shivered as I ate my celebratory "I climbed Logan" snack.  Unlike two years ago, I did not linger at the pass.  Still concerned that there might be rain or even snow, I knew I needed to get to a lower altitude.  I did not strip off my warmer clothes until I descended most of the way down the Road to the Sun.  Only when I stopped for a second snack at the Lake McDonald Lodge did I truly feel warm.  At long last the sun had come out.

I am camped at the Apgar campground near Apgar village.  Remembering two years ago, I went first to the more distant Fish Creek campground, the only campground that was open in 2020.  On the long climb out of the village to Fish Creek, another cyclist named Dave caught up with me and chatted, also taking one of the few action shots I have of me on WoodsWoman.  Imagine my unpleasant surprise when I reached Fish Creek:  the campground was closed for the season!  If I had paid attention to the various campground directory signs I had passed, I would have known.  And so, I returned to Apgar, arriving as the sun was setting.  Joan, one of the volunteers, checked me in for five nights at $2.50/night, my cheapest camping other than for my free wild camping up north.  Cameron, a cyclist from Chicago, was my company at the hiker/biker for my first night, but he was gone in the morning.  I now have the site to myself.  It feels so different from the overflowing hiker/biker of 2020.  What a difference a month makes.  In 2020 I was here in August.  Now it's September.  And it's "fingers hurt from the cold" chilly in the morning.  Still, what a joy to be in GNP again!  To date, this is my favorite national park.

I'll be here through Monday.  On Tuesday I'll ride over to Whitefish and stay for two nights at the Bicycle Retreat, another reprise from 2020 when I was riding the Northern Tier.

As in 2020 and 2021, I am overcome by the strange mixture of joy, exaltation, and melancholy.  I still have my "after ride" in Maine to come, but this year's journey, the most challenging yet, is coming to its end even as I hold on, not quite willing to let it go.

[ADDENDUM}

On Friday I had my closest wildlife encounter yet.  I had gone into West Glacier to do laundry.  I went there by walking on the road.  On the way back as the sun was getting lower, I decided to use the hiker/biker path.  Mistake.  I was talking with John loudly on the telephone when I caught sight of a large elk with a full set of antlers.  It was perhaps 150' ahead of me just off the path.  It was eyeing me and did not look happy.  I stopped.  Then I started to retreat.  I turned to look back several times.  The elk had moved onto the path and was still eyeing me even when I was some distance away.  It clearly did not like having me on "its" territory.  I ended up retreating a long way back and returning to the campground the way I had come, by road.


Sunday, September 11, 2022 -- 5433 km cum - 35 km/day

Monday, September 12, 2022 -- 5445 km cum - 12 km/day

A short but hilly "fun ride" up Camas Road on Sunday was followed today by utilitarian riding to the post office in West Glacier to mail home my Ursack, camp stool, papers, and "just now purchased" souvenirs.  I likely could and even should have mailed more -- e.g., much of my cooking gear -- but that would be yet a greater sign that this summer is ending.  As in 2020 and 2021, I'm holding on.

On Saturday I walked to the campground and picnic area at Fish Creek where I camped in 2020.  Unexpectedly, I experienced a misty-eyed nostalgia for 2020.  It was my first cross-country trip and my first time at Glacier.  There were so many of us at the hiker/biker that year!  This is where I first met Leandro.  Strange that I should feel such nostalgia for a time only two years in the past.

Last night I made my first and only campfire of the summer.  I had good company for the evening in Brendan, a backpacker who had just finished hiking the Continental Divide Trail

Sadly, smoke from forest fires is obscuring the mountain views this year.  Nevertheless, I am so happy that I have been able to return to Glacier and spend a few days here.  May this be not my only return.


Tuesday, September 13, 2022 -- 5499 km cum - 54 km/day

Today's was an easy 34-mile ride over to Whitefish where I am staying at the Bicycle Retreat.  I am the only person here.  It is an appropriately quiet, secluded, "stop above a hostel" accommodation at which to conclude my third summer visit to Montana.

Sigh.  If there was one disappointment at Glacier this year, it was the smoke.  I rose early this morning in hopes of seeing the sunrise over Lake McDonald.  I never glimpsed the sun.  The smoke at the horizon was that thick.

FLASH:  Amtrak has canceled almost all trains west of Chicago due to an imminent threat of a freight rail strike this Friday.  What I do now is something I don't yet know.


Friday, September 16, 2022 -- 5520 km cum - 21 km/day

Whew, the strike was averted.  I have been re-booked on the Empire Builder for Sunday.  If it had not been averted, I was seriously considering riding east on the Northern Tier until the strike ended.  I was even getting excited at the prospect.

The bad news is that the Bicycle Retreat is completely booked for a private event tonight and Saturday.  Thus today's short ride was back to Whitefish where I'm in a "cheap" $200+/night motel.  If I had realized there was a state park with a campground, I would have stayed there.

But in good news, I upgraded from coach to a bedroom on the Empire Builder to Chicago.  Someone must have canceled.  I shudder at the cost, but in this instance I don't care.  This summer's NorthStar adventure deserves a luxury finish.


Saturday, September 17, 2022 -- 5567 km cum - 47 km/day

Today I was weightless.  I mean weightless in the sense that I rode with almost no weight.  My destination was the Walmart in Kalispell to buy a new watch after having ruined my current one by forgetting it was in my pants pocket when I did laundry at the Bicycle Retreat.  With no weight to speak of, I felt I was flying to/from Kalispell up and down rises and, on the way there, into a slight headwind on U.S. 93.  The return was even better on the nearly flat Whitefish Stage Road through scenic farm country under warm, sunny skies.

I celebrated my last day in Montana with a beer and a hot dog with pulled pork at the Piggyback BBQ.  What a good last day in Montana this was.  Tomorrow, to train!


No comments:

Post a Comment