More Pancakes! July 5, 2014

After we wake up, we bike into town with John and Maureen to have pancakes at the well-known Roadhouse restaurant.  They're simply delicious; thin, flavored with fat blueberries, nutmeg, and cinnamon.  Afterwards we go down to the Susitna River to enjoy a perfect view of the mountains.

at the Susitna River, big mountains behind

 I finally have time and weather nice enough to do a painting.  Danny works on updating the blog.   The river is a loud place.  Trains, helicopters, airplanes, motorboats, fireworks, and lots of people create a sort of cacophony of noises.  We spend multiple hours at the river then bike back to John and Maureen's RV, where we have lunch and share delicious tortilla chips and guacamole.  The guac is a wonderful delicacy.  It's late afternoon when they shuttle us back to the end of the spur road and we take off biking again on the Parks Highway.  The road is mostly flat with unremarkable scenery, but the 30 miles we bike are tough due to a fierce headwind.  We set up camp just outside of the small town of Willow at Nancy Lake campground.

Nancy Lake around 11 pm

Favorite "Adopt A Highway" sponsor: Backcountry Llamaventures
Strangest place passed: Family Firing Range

Danny's side note: Willow, the town we are camped next to, got its start as a mining town in the late 1800s and was relatively unknown until 1976, when it gained a moderate degree of fame due to it being the choice for the new capital city of Alaska.  The committee in charge of selecting the new city had to find a place on state-owned ground with moderate temperatures, along the railroad and existing roadways, and over thirty miles from Fairbanks and Anchorage.  Enough funding for the move never materialized and the idea was politically defeated in 1982.  Thus Juneau, though ridiculously far from actual Alaska, remains the capital city.

More Biking Bliss and Talkeetna, July 4, 2014

It's a holiday!  We had talked about it the night before, but we didn't remember until midway throughout the day.  When you're removed from humanity, the days flow together.  The trees don't care whether it's Thursday or Friday.  But maybe the weather knows, because it could not have been better on this July 4th.  Before setting off from our campground in Denali State Park, we soaked up amazing views of the Alaska Range.  There are only two or three days per summer month where McKinley can be fully seen, top to bottom, and we were lucky enough to experience this one.

 The perfect weather and the road gave us some more biking bliss.  The miles flew by, and we had done over 40 by lunch.  After lunch, we biked 25 more and then met John and Maureen, our friends from the Denali campground, at the Talkeetna Spur Road.  We hadn't planned on going to Talkeetna, as it's 14 miles off the main highway, but they convinced us to go for the festivities and offered to drive us the 14 miles.  Why not?!  Talkeetna is a small, somewhat touristy town best known as the jumping off point for McKinley climbers to be flown out to the mountain, but it still maintains its original charm.  Live music was everywhere, and Tam and I shared a delicious calzone.  Afterward we fell for homemade ice cream (how could you not) and looked around for the mayor, who's a tawny cat, but couldn't find him. We pitched our tent next to John and Maureen's RV and fell asleep to the sound of fireworks.

Biking Bliss and the Ramen Experiment, July 3, 2014

Because of the late night getting out of Denali (late dinner + food shopping for the next few days), we woke around 10 to the pitter of rain on the tent... or so I thought.  It was actually flies buzzing around the inside of the fly!  Contrary to my original thought about the rain, it was a beautiful, warm day with no wind, and our road was well paved with a large shoulder and moderate grades to the few hills.  All shades of wildflowers lined the road: purple lupines, pink pea plants, and yellow asters sharply contrasted with the austere sharpness of the white mountains rising all around.

 We made it to a Denali State Park camnpground around 7:00, having ridden 72 miles in about eight hours, including a long lunch break!  We were very proud of ourselves; back on the Dalton, 72 miles would have taken us twice that time.  We planned on having a low key night to catch up on journal entries, reading, etc., but I struck up a conversation with John and Maureen, two folks up here RVing from Anchorage for the July 4th weekend.  We ended up spending the evening with them and their son Jeff and his wife Sarah.  The warmth of their company and their campfire, in the shadow of the Alaska Range, transformed an otherwise mundane evening.  McKinley, the Moose's Tooth, and Mt Hunter were all clearly visible.  A wonderful day it was, with splendid company and the best scenery anywhere.

I did find time among biking and being social to experiment with a new food: ramen noodles.  We were given some a few days before by Brandon, just one pack.  We refused more because we didn't think it would hydrate cold.  We don't carry a stove for ease and convenience, so for dinner we always eat foods that quickly hydrate without heat, couscous and instant mashed potatoes being our main staples in remote areas.  Ramen never occurred to me; it's much bulkier than couscous or mashed potatoes, so it doesn't fit so well into a confining, hard-sided bear can.  Still, I was curious.  I left some ramen in water for about 30 minutes, and when I came back it was fully hydrated.  I would surmise that, due to its pretty much instant hydration in hot water, that it would take no more than five or ten minutes in cold or room-temperature water.  I hope that many of the frightening ingredients are in the flavor packet that we wouldn't use, but we still probably won't buy ramen due to its atrocious nutritional value.  In a pinch, though, now we know!  It's pretty good dry, too, as a crunchy snack.

Warmth On A Cold Day, June 25, 2014

We wake up around 8:00, but only to put the fly on the tent because it has started to rain.  It's around 12:00 when we actually roll out.  Just two miles down the road is the small town of Nenana, which apparently means "a good place to camp between the rivers."  It's situated between the Nenana and Tanana rivers (both flooded).  The town is famous for its Ice Classic, a guessing game started back in 1917 where people would predict the date and time the ice goes out on the river.  Back then it was $1 a guess; now it's $2.30, and you can win thousands of dollars for guessing right.  The small visitor's center seems to exist primarily for the purpose of selling these tickets.  Outside the visitor's center is a giant replica of the tripod that is placed on the river with a clock to mark the exact time the ice goes out.  We don't spend long in Nenana, and after a short stop at the local gas station to fill up on water, we're riding out of town.  The road is gloriously flat and paved, but it's cold, raining hard, and we have a headwind.  What we had expected to be an easy day turns into a struggle.  Around mile 25 or so, we see a beautiful blue sign indicating food and lodging ahead.  Hooray!  We ride into the Clear Sky Lodge, soaked and half frozen to our bikes (yes, the name seemed a bit ironic).  Here we meet some wonderful people who make us giant glasses of hot chocolate with whipped cream, and garlic bread, and don't charge us anything.  They also let us use their grill to make quesadillas!  The warm food is amazing and rejuvenates us.  
A few miles down the road, we reach a construction zone and meet a flagger named Ray, who tells us we must ride across in the pilot car.  Ray is super friendly and lets us play with his husky puppy while we wait.  The puppy is incredibly adorable, and getting to play with her makes my day.  

The lady driving the pilot car is also quite friendly and gives us Doritos and fireball candies as we drive the two miles of construction.  After our ride, the weather turns bad again.  It's windy and raining hard.  A few miles down the road, we reach another construction zone.  No one is working on this one because of the awful weather.  We start moving slowly over big chunks of gravel, giant potholes, and lots of mud.  Then we meet Al, a friendly guy from Palmer towing two boats he had just gotten at an auction in Fairbanks.  He stops and offers to give us a ride.  Cold, wet, and not excited to ride on the crappy road, we accept.  The road is in bad condition pretty much all the way to Healy, so Al gives us a lift right to the 49th State Brewery, which multiple people had told us about.  I don't feel bad about getting a lift, because if the construction crews had been working, we wouldn't have been allowed to ride that stretch anyway.  Plus, this trip is supposed to be fun, and sometimes it's more fun to hang out with a nice guy in a warm truck than bike on a road filled with flooded and muddy potholes.  
At the 49th State Brewery, the hostess immediately takes us inside to a pair of seats on the edge of a warm fire.  It's absolutely delightful.  The brewery looks like it was once a warehouse, and now it is wonderfully decorated with typical Alaskan things: a moose head on the wall, a large taxidermied grizzly bear with a cowgirl riding it, beer bottles, and wooden tables crammed with people.  It's nice to be inside such a warm and happy place.  We have drinks and an amazing quinoa/black bean burger, a salad with balsamic vinaigrette, and a triple chocolate mousse cake.  Alright, dinner was a bit of a splurge, but I think it was worth it..  If you're ever in the area, we highly recommend both drinks and food found at this brewery.  We're not much of beer drinkers, but we highly enjoyed our Solstice IPA.  Afterwards, we walk outside to check out the bus from the movie Into the Wild.  Since we've both seen the movie and read the book, it was very interesting to see the bus that was used, as well as see some of Chris' original journals and pictures.  Reluctant to go back into the neverending freezing rain, we pay $4 to stay at the nextdoor campground.  It's still raining, and weirdly, it's getting dark out.

On the Road Again, June 24, 2014

As hard as it was to leave Anna and Andrew's place for good, we had to get back on the road.  So we said our goodbyes, packed up, and headed to the supermarket to get some food.  Even though the bike to our next destination, Denali, would only take two days, we bought food for seven days to avoid paying higher prices near the park entrance.  Thanks to the unexpectedly expansive bulk section at Fred Meyer, all of it came to only $76!  We were pleasantly surprised; that's just over $5 per person per day, and we eat a lot.  I've always had an appetite, but now I'm pretty much always hungry, even after finishing a significant meal.  In this respect, I like bike touring much more than backpacking; I can carry more food!  We realized while at the supermarket around 1 pm that our nourishment for the day had consisted of oatmeal and an Emergen-C packet (thank you Lisa and Oreo!).  It's never a good idea to shop on an empty stomach, so we settled on the most yummy and economic solution: blueberry muffins.  520 calories per dollar, oh yeah.  Tam didn't want one of hers, and I very much enjoyed my three. Since we'll be passing more towns now, we're going to supplement our regular food with fruits and veggies whenever we have a chance.  Many thanks to Andie for sending dried mango and that fruit and nut mix; they are delicious!

We had been warned by some folks in Fairbanks about the hilly road to Nenana, about 50 miles from Fairbanks, so we were expecting a tough ride.  The worst, they said, was the hill out of Ester, just out of town.  But when we reached that hill, and all the others, we realized that the hills on the Dalton Highway had prepared us well.  Yes, the hill from Ester was long, but it was not continuous, nor all that steep, nor gravel, nor was it followed by twenty more just like it.  Moreover, the weather was perfect.  Low 60s, slightly breezy, and no mosquitoes!  We had the time of our lives in shorts and t-shirts.  Upon arrival at the Tanana River (we found the site Andrew and John recommended - thanks guys), we built a small fire to keep the bugs away, had a great dinner and dessert, and set up the tent, folding the rain fly up off the foot so we could see the river.  As I write this, the midnight sun is turning the light amber, and a beaver is swimming by just a few feet away and slapping its tail at us.  'Tis a fine night to be in a tent on a riverbank in Alaska.

taken through the tent's mesh