Back in Minneapolis

The dream is over. We all know the story of Dorothy just clicking her heels together to return home, and it happened almost as fast as that for me.

After slowly battling my way up to the windswept Alaska border on Monday afternoon, the wild 3000-foot, 14-mile descent to sea level at Skagway set the pace for my return to Minnesota. I coasted into downtown Skagway with less than 5 minutes to spare to meet the boarding deadline for the M/V Columbia bound for Juneau. Twenty-four days of bicycling totaling 2651 miles ended in the vehicle deck of the big ship. When I arrived at the Juneau ferry terminal, in the early morning darkness of a typically damp, cloud enshrouded Juneau day, I had no further transportation arrangements yet made.

As the town woke up, things started to happen fast. A call to Alaska Airlines confirmed that they had bicycle shipping boxes available at the airport. An internet station in the ferry terminal gave me the opportunity to tinker around with flight possibilities. An immediate flight out in the next couple of days looked like it would have been over $1000, so I checked the long shot of cashing in frequent flier milers with NWA, and, lo and behold, I got a positive result for a flight that same afternoon at 2:55! Routed through Seattle, then via a commuter flight to Portland, topped off with the red-eye from Portland to Minneapolis. Well, it would save $1000.

So I quickly biked the six miles to the Juneau airport, got my bike box, and started repacking away. I forgot to bring a wrench that could remove the pedals, necessary to fit into the box, so the ticket counter personnel hunted around and eventually found a narrow enough wrench to do the job. Well, that's Alaska for you. They're used to stranger requests and quirkier folks than me. By lunchtime, I was munching away on a Caesar salad, and waiting to begin my 12-hour flight marathon.

Every experienced air traveler should fly out of the Juneau airport at least once. For thousands of feet after takeoff, you can look out of both sides of the plane and see trees. Real close. C'mon baby! Let's get this thing up there. Then you disappear into the clouds, hoping those trees, and the mountains attached to them, are getting no closer. Finally, you emerge from the clouds into the sunshine, a fleeting substance that rarely makes it to the ground in Juneau.

Twelve strung-out hours later, I was getting off the plane in Minneapolis. I was gone long enough to forget about the humidity.

The dream was over, but the bigger dream lives on. I had just motivated myself to do something that few 59-year olds can comprehend, let alone be crazy enough to actually try. Yet the secret is to remove barriers to our dreams and move ahead with our lives. I really wasn't in a race with a 19-year old kid with a Duluth pack tied onto his 10-speed, heading up a gravel road he knew nothing about; I was in a race with a 59-year old who needs to look ahead and win the next battle.

I have some tough times ahead in my fight with renal cell cancer. Tougher than cranking a bike up the 14-mile Steamboat Mountain grade on the Alcan Highway? Tougher than picking my way through a herd of ornery buffalo blocking the way north? Tougher than battling across the endless plains of North Dakota against a headwind that would have blown Columbus all the way to Egypt? Tougher than trying to quickly set up a small tent in a rain-soaked forest with every mosquito north of Vancouver dive-bombing away? Time will tell. Thank you for listening.

I want to extend my thanks to many of those who supported my trip. First, my family as always, provided their encouragement. My mother, who mailed us cookies and bike parts to general delevery addresses all over the north 40-years ago, this time left me cell phone voice mail messages to pedal on! My wife Denise, who has to pick up the load on the home front when I am gone. My daughter Kaitlyn helped with updates to the blog. Thanks to my brothers and others in the family as well.

The patience of my friends at work - Midwest Mountaineering - is appreciated. After all, it's adventures like this that allow us to say "ask us, we've been there."

To Kevin and the crew at Freewheel Bikes, thanks for your patience swapping parts and fine tuning the Co-Motion. The 30-day checkup will also be a 3000-mile checkup.

To Greg and Sam at Mountainsmith/Detours: the packs allowed for worry-free cycling in the rain and dust. Sure beats lashing a Duluth pack onto a rack every morning!

To Troy and Kevin, the Mountain Hardwear representatives, the 1-lb. Phantom bag and 2.4 lb. Stiletto tent were light and great, and I promise they will be clean again before the show season!

Camelbak Elixir, a mineral supplement for hydration packs, provided by the BestRep group, proved its worth to me in all the hot weather I had. Remember, when Canadians complain about 30-degree temperatures, they're talking Celsius.

And Serfas sunglasses provided a pair of their Kamber model, light and very suitable for bike touring.

Juneau, Alaska

Tuesday Morning, Alaska Marine Ferry Terminal, Juneau.

Yesterday I made it to the Alaska border and the town of Skagway, thus bicycling to Alaska from the Twin Cities for the second time, forty years after the first trip in 1967.

The ride yesterday was definitely a fitting finale to the trip. To get to the ferry terminal in Skagway in time for the voyage to Juneau, I had to battle the last big hills, strong headwinds blowing up from the Pacific, sections of bad pavement, and keep my poor legs going over one of the most scenic sections of highway in North America, paralleling the Klondike gold rush trail area of 1898.

I will be returning to Minnesota August 1. Wrap up coming later.

Carcross, Yukon Territory

Monday morning. 2584 miles cycled so far.

I am in Carcross, Yukon, the last town before Skagway, Alaska, with about 65 miles to go. The weather in the mountains to the south looks a bit iffy, but I am ready to head out on the final leg.

Rain, hot sun, black flies, mosquitoes, and nice mountain views were a part of my crossing of the southern Yukon in the past few days. My knees ache, leg muscles cry out with lactose burnout after every stop, and my rear end has been pounded into hamburger by the bouncy "pavement" of the local highways. but this has been an energizing trip. More soon.

Update from Kaitlyn Knapp

Andy Knapp reached Watson Lake late Friday night. He is heading west to Skagway on his last leg, with 340 miles to go. We are proud of you Dad!

Contact Creek, Yukon Territory

I make it to Yukon, just crossed over and stopped at a small lodge that has an internet connection. I have biked 2283 miles so far, in 21 days, with about 40 more today if I make it to the town of Watson Lake.

The big hills of the Rocky Mountain section of the highway are every bit as steep as they were in the past, and have slowed me down a bit, using the granny gears on the 8 - 9 -10% grades, climbing along at 3-5 mph.

Great wildlife viewing the last few days- moose, deer, fox, woodland caribou, stone (dall) sheep, and this morning a herd of buffalo blocked the highway near Liard Hot springs for a while.

Still trying to get to Skagway, more later.

Fort Nelson, British Columbia

Old Alaska Highway milepost 300. Wednesday morning.

I got some of the hilliest sections of the Alcan behind me now, but will be heading west from here today into the northern Canadian Rockies and the highest point on the highway at 4200 feet, my aching knees willing. The new paved highway is easier than the old, but many of the same steep grades in and out of river valleys are still unchanged. Saw two bears crossing the road yesterday evening. Some rainstorms, and good views of the northern Rockies to the west, but no recent mishaps or problems. I am now about a day ahead of the pace that I was on over this route in 1967- paved roads help!

I am beginning to run out of time, and hope to wrap this venture up next week, possibly by riding to Skagway, Alaska, over the "new" highway- one I haven't before been on- and finding my way home from Juneau. Logistics sketchy at this point. Cell phone coverage is very intermittent now.

All for now, on to the mountains!

Valleyview, Alberta

Valleyview is the gateway to the Peace River agricultural region of northwestern Alberta. I am now north of 55 degrees latitude, and the sun is just setting at 10:15 pm. I have cycled 1553 miles so far, and tomorrow I should get beyond Grande Prairie, Alberta, on the approach to Dawson Creek, BC. Sometime Sunday, I should be starting up the Alaska Highway.

Today, I got a good test of riding in continuously hilly terrain, as the highway to Valleyview winds through some forested foothills after dropping down to cross the Athabasca River. Moose warning signs were periodic, but my main concern was the blast of wind from trucks as I coasted the downhills. Having wide paved shoulders on the main highways is great, but I have to be constantly watching for stray gravel, shredded tires, miscellaneous metal parts, roadkill, broken glass, and any number of other things people throw out.

I have a few aches and scrapes, and my knees usually ache for several hours in the evening, and I know they will this evening, after today's 134-mile effort.

Thanks to those who have sent emails; it's always good to hear from people. I hope you all are enjoying this blog format. It sure beats trying to write lots of postcards.

Edmonton, Alberta

Thursday noon. Just a quick note as I pass through the northern outskirts of Edmonton, where I had a blood draw as part of the clinical study I am in on a new cancer drug. Yesterday, I had a strong SE tailwind rolling through the green hills of eastern Alberta and made 149 miles to Fort Saskatchewan, just east of here. I am now heading to Highway 43 and the Grand Prairie region, on the approach to the Alcan Highway.

Lloydminster, Alberta/Sask.

I've made it to the province of Alberta, 1171 miles into the trip. I am still running about a day behind the pace of the trip in 1967, but as I've found out, keeping up with 19-year olds isn't easy. I have had three good days, hot but little wind, rolling through the Saskatchewan plains and their biggest cities of Regina and Saskatoon.

Yesterday evening, I got caught briefly by a spectacular prairie thunderstorm, so black and ugly it wouldn't give my camera a light meter reading, taking refuge on the lee side of a large hay bail, my bike and I under my Integral Designs Sil Poncho, waiting out the wind, rain, and hail, thinking about the times that things have been worse. But they did get worse. The town I was heading for was listed as having a hotel and a city campground, both of which were closed, so I spent the night camping in a small park with a large number of vicious prairie mosquitoes.

Today, I passed the point in '67 where I caught up with Howie Graham, one of the foursome that were on the early part of my trip in 1967. The memory I had of seeing Howie ahead on the curve of the highway with the view of the North Saskatchewan River valley matched the spot I saw today, even though the road now is a four-lane divided highway.

Tomorrow, I make the final push towards Edmonton, the mental half-way point as I head into the forests and foothills. I am mostly beyond the wheat belt, but there are a few more agricultural areas to pass through on the approach to the Alcan Highway.

Because I have only gotten to a computer every 3 or 4 days, and I have been calling home via cell phone more often, my daughter Kaitlyn, will help from now on with more frequent updates, so keep checking in!

Estevan, Saskatchewan

I made it to Saskatchewan on the fourth NW headwind day in a row. With 697 miles logged in so far, I am a bit behind where I wanted to be at this point. More days on the prairies mean less to spend in the northern mountains. The frustrating thing about bicycling into the wind is that it is like going uphill all the time, with no end in sight.

In any case, I chose to bike the whole route because there is a certain grandeur to the endless prairies, the vistas, the sunsets, and the friendliness of the people who live here. I have made the transition from the corn belt to the wheat belt, with intermittent grasslands where trees are few and far between and cattle watch suspiciously as I glide by. Ahead lies several days in Saskatchewan's agricultural heartland, continuing to angle northwest.

Other than the wind, things are going smoothly. The bike and other gear are working fine, the paved shoulders on most major roads- roads that were lonely 2-lanes in 1967- make it possible to mostly tune out the traffic. The first mishap of the trip happened today arriving in Estevan, when I pulled into a parking lot, couldn't get my pedal cleat unsnapped fast enough and down I went, skinning my elbow.

More thoughts later, before I leave town.

Saturday Morning: Sunny, lighter west winds, so far. Regina newspaper forecast shows more cloudiness tomorrow and rain Monday-- maybe this stubborn weather system is going to finally move on. anyway, I'm off, into some of the flattest country on the planet, to see what the day will bring!

Jamestown, North Dakota

Today, the fourth day of my trip, has been a real grind fighting a vicious headwind out of the northwest, the direction, of course, that I am trying to go. 25-30 mph winds, with whitecaps on the duck ponds, waves of green through the corn and wheat, and swaying trees, kept my forward progress to about 6 mph including frequent breaks to rest my knees. I may call it a day here in Jamestown with only 60 miles done, as Hwy. 52 NW from here will only be worse.

Bicycle touring has its highs and lows, with the highs higher and the lows lower than most other activities. The wind has always been the arch-enemy of the bicyclist; hills always have a top with a ride down, and the rain can be dealt with using good gear. The low points of a day of struggling like today can be briefly forgotten by looking for interesting photos, or by sitting in a small town cafe listening to the farmers talk about the rain. I had the Sunday all-you-can-eat Swedish buffet in Milan, MN, and enjoyed the climb and descent through the rolling terrain of South Dakota's glacial hills west of Sisseton.

The first three days also had headwinds, along with heat, but I was averaging 113 miles a day until today. But tomorrow will bring a new day and each day is a fresh start. From Jamestown, the roads all steadily head northwest and I am looking forward to reaching Canada and the gradual end of the prairies and the midwestern heat. More soon. Regards to all, the thoughts and messages from family and friends keep me going!

Getting Ready for Departure.

Details, details. It's been eleven years since I last took a month off for a long trip. It gets harder as the years pass by to get disentangled from work and other obligations to hit the road (or trail or waterway) and focus upon the immediate goal.

I am now going to depart Friday, July 6, and head west along the route I took on the 1967 Alaska trip, crossing Minnesota and cutting through the northeast corner of South Dakota before turning northwest towards North Dakota and Saskatchewan.

I will be traveling relatively light, as I did on the 2004 ride around Lake Superior, and as Denise and I did on our 1984 crossing of Europe. I will be testing out a 2.4 lb. Mountain Hardwear 2008 Stiletto tent prototype, and using a 1 lb. down Phantom sleeping bag and 1 lb. ultralight Therm-A-Rest pad. The only cookware I'm bringing are the original boy scout spoon and cup from my 1964 trip; eating ready-to-eat food-- peanut butter sandwiches have always been the caloric mainstay-- and stopping at restaurants once a day or so. The physical effort should be about the same as it was when I sea kayaked around the 1136-mile perimeter of Lake Superior without resupply in 1996; burning about 3500 extra calories a day for four weeks.

With my new Co-Motion touring bike and waterproof Detours panniers, I expect to have far less equipment trouble than in 1967-- no disintegrating rear wheel, leaky tent, or awkward Duluth pack to tie onto the back of the bike.

And with a little bit of luck with my arthritic knees, and the enevitable increase in highway traffic, I'll cruise the prairies and approach the vistas of the northern Rockies. Every three or four days, whenever I can find computer access, I will post updates here. At least it beats trying to stay in touch with postcards and general delivery addresses.

Welcome to My Latest Adventure

I plan to depart about July 5 and bicycle the route of my 1967 trip from Minnesota to Alaska.

Check back soon for further updates.