Riding local, riding abroad. Doesn't matter. "One less car" bike commuting and "Bikes Belong" advocacy, plus "I ride solo" bicycle travel. Racing is fun, but there are so many equally great reasons to ride.
Saturday, August 25, 2018
Postcard from the past
Yes, that was my shoe that I left on Chilkoot Pass. I did great in Dawson City, separating the Klondike miners from their gold.
Friday, August 24, 2018
At Bennett
I'm smiling because I've made it to Bennett by 9:15am. Plenty of time to wait for the train. The last mile of sand was the icing on the cake. I found new foot muscles to twinge.
6:30am at Bare Loon shelter
I got up at 5am but it was dark and too scary to start. So I fining last breakfast oatmeal and sucked down a cup of over sweet cocoa mix. The local loon was still calling from the lake.
9pm at Bare Loon Lake
I was so tired at one point on the last "3 miles" (bullshit), I sat on a rock and cried. But my Canadian hiker cohort was there to greet me. I'm the first to break camp and the last one in, it seems.
4:45pm in the tundra
After lunch and dry socks in the warming hut at the Canadian warden's hut on Chilkoot Pass, it was an agonizing descent on rock choked gullies to this cross between Iceland and New Zealand.
Last place to take the pack off.
It's 1/4 vertical mile and 1,000 feet over scary sharp rocks. The Golden Stairs would be easier in snow.
Artifacts littering the Scales area
Not surprising as this is where stampeders lightened their load to meet the 1 ton minimum set by Canadian customs.
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