Cody Hughes and Clay James are two Utah transplants that are embarking on an outlandish expedition to ride their bicycles from Salt Lake City to Denali National Park with the ultimate goal of traversing the mountain north to south.
The two departed on March 20th from their doorstep at the base of the Wasatch Mountains. They have allocated 2 months to pedal to Denali. The route involves 3400+ miles of open road to reach the tallest mountain in North America. The guys will need to cover at least 50 miles per day to allow for a month of climbing and skiing on Denali. They will be going self-supported, each towing cargo trailers with all of their expedition and ski gear. Read more about Cody and Clay.
Follow their progress below...
April 22
Physically exerting myself is my therapy. Today the road provided just the hill I needed to wash myself clean. We set our sights on Bell 2 and booked a room at a heliskiing operation called Last Frontier. We climbed over 4K of vert today and it was a joy. With the downs, come the ups. The best part about going uphill on a bike is you’re getting closer to the mountains and you’re rewarded with views. Today I saw fluted spines and faces for the first time in my life. As we were pedaling north this afternoon, the towering north faces kept accumulating behind us. I kept looking over my shoulder like something scary was following us. The steep north faces are so caked in snow that you can’t even find a rock poking out. I think I’ve found some new inspiration. We pulled in to the lodge around 7 and had a nice dinner and hot tub session. The rooms have wood burning stoves so I stayed up late playing with fire. The WiFi here is 10 dollars an hour. It’s a nice reality check in Internet mindfulness. How much time a day would you spend online if you had to pay 10$ an hour? Sorry for the lapse in updates the last week. It will probably be another long stretch of no service from here. I hope that y’all are doing well, dreaming big, and accomplishing goals daily. Sending my love to everyone that’s following and cheering us on. I’m cheering for you!
60 miles
April 21
Mind in a funk. My brain has been restless since leaving Smithers. I’ve tried hard to shake it, but unfortunately sometimes it’s not that easy. I’m thinking too much and feeling overwhelmed by it all. Instead of burying the pain, I’m gonna wade through it. Riding the bike can be very meditative and therapeutic when in a good head space, but when you are feeling down it is treachery. Shit can roll downhill fast when you’re psyching yourself up to drag a trailer for another 60 miles. It hurts to crack a fake smile at a passing car. I got upset with my self for being upset because i know I’m so damn fortunate to be out here doing this. I chose to do this. I want to do this. I’m so incredibly lucky to have the opportunity to do this. All the wonderful people we met in the last few days made me want to drop anchor for a bit. The mountains and the healthy spring snowpack got me distracted. I was bummed to be biking past all these huge peaks blanketed in white. I remind myself that my mountain is coming with time. I’m thankful to be with Cody on this journey because we let each other work through these mental battles while still providing support. He knows when to give me space and when to snap me out of it. I try to do the same. Biking along a deserted highway through the mountains also works wonders. Craning your neck to see the towering summits, listening to the songbirds, watching birds of prey effortlessly soar above you. All is well. We made it to Meziadin Junction tonight. We hear tales of bigger, badder mountains to our north. I often think of these lyrics from Future Islands when I question myself, “when seeking truth the answer is the road, when seeking wisdom the journey is your home. Fight through the wind, fight through the rain, fight through the storm.”
April 20
Stewart Cassiar Highway. Today we achieved bike touring nirvana. From Smithers, our journey west has brought us in to a coastal climate. Spring is just starting to pop down here and we are seeing signs of new life in the forests. After 20 miles on highway 16 this morning we made it to Kitwanga Junction. North of this junction stretches 450 miles of pavement to the Alaskan Highway . We instantly feel like we are getting out there. There are no power lines alongside the road. Just a strip of asphalt with white and yellow paint surrounded by wilderness. This afternoon we went hours without getting passed by a car. We’ve both shut our music off and tuned in to the sounds of the forest. The highway has lots of straight sections with clear line of sight so we are pedaling right in the middle of the road. This is bike touring bliss. We’ve loaded on the food because there are no grocery stores for quite a while. We’ve each strapped 25 pounds of grub on to our already hefty bikes. We found a camp spot just as it started to rain. The forest canopy provided a nice dry place to cook dinner and relax.
April 19
Debbie’s family really liked the biscuits with chocolate gravy so we had another batch for breakfast. We stopped by the coffee shop on the way out of town and had a very small world moment. A man named Mike asked us if we’d biked through Nevada a month ago. We’ve seen two other bike tourists so far and Mike was one of them. He was on a tour from Palm Springs to Boise and he lives here in Smithers. He had offered us a place to stay, but at the time we didn’t know where the heck Smithers was and we forgot by the time we made it here. Mike and his girlfriend also recently did the bike tour from BC to the southern tip of South America. We talked for a while and shared some great laughs. The pedal out of Smithers was mind boggling. The skies were clear as a bell and we kept stopping to admire all the peaks towering above us. We both had a really hard time leaving Smithers. It’s definitely my favorite town we’ve passed through so far. We found a nice campground by a lake and called it a night.
50 miles
April 18
We thought we were going to go skiing on our rest day. Ha! The high winds and socked in clouds kept us in check. Today was our first full day of rest (don’t worry, we still rode our bikes around town). In the last month we have pedaled 1750 miles. Bike touring has been a good exercise in routine for me. I can’t recount many times in my life where I have spent every day for an entire month focused on one task. Smithers, BC is roughly half way and I’m excited for another month of practice. The traffic has died down substantially and we are looking forward to the highway wilderness (oxymoronic for sure) experience that lies ahead of us. We spent the morning with Debbie learning about bears. She gave us a slideshow presentation on bear behavior and how to handle encounters. She also lent us this tambourine shaker thing that you sound off when you get to camp or when you’re about to cook up some tasty food. It’s amazing how people like Debbie find their way in to your life at just the right time. We honestly didn’t know a lick about bears and now we are amped to see our first grizzly. We wandered around town in the afternoon and ended up at the Smithers Brewery. We ran into Al, a friend of Debbie and Lothar, and shared a couple beers on the sun porch. Al was skiing DPS before I was old enough to vote. He shared some tales from the days when you would order a pair of skis and then wait two months for them to be built. He has stockpiled a few pairs of Lotus 120s and spoke religiously of their skiing characteristics. Debbie’s family came to town for Easter weekend and she invited us to join for dinner. I offered to cover dessert. I brought some southern charm with homemade buttermilk biscuits and chocolate gravy.
April 17
From Houston we got to pedal up and over a really big hill to Smithers. You know it’s gonna be a fun one when the locals have a name for the hill. This particular ones called Hungry Hill because everyone’s starving by the time they drive up it. We had two dinners after biking it. While eating our first dinner a lady named Debbie asked if she could join us. She’d seen our bikes out on the street and she was bursting with joy to meet us. Debbie just got home from a 3 and a half year bike tour! Her and her partner, Lothar, rode their bikes from their house in Smithers to the southern tip of South America. Once they got there, they saw no option besides biking back. Debbie is a biologist and has spent a lot of her life in extremely remote areas of British Columbia and Alaska studying grizzly bear habitat and behavior. She has also done a lot of sea kayaking expeditions up and down the BC coast. Debbie is in her late 50s and her adventurous spirit hasn’t wavered one bit. She is an environmentalist and naturalist who leads by example. On her bicycle journey she saw endless expanses of habitat that are destroyed. Debbie knows that we are hurting our planet and she believes that our actions can make a difference. Debbie invited us to stay the night at her home. We went to the community center and soaked in the hot tub then had our second dinner. We showed up at her place after dark and she stayed up with us for a few hours talking about life, exploring, mindfulness... the whole gamut. Debbie welcoming spirit made her instantly feel like family. She’s like that really cool aunt you have that you’re always excited to spend time with. I opted to sleep under the full moon in the backyard.
40 miles
April 16
Didn’t take us long to realize we were overstoking. This morning we were staring down the barrel of an 88 mile day to get to Smithers. It seemed like a good idea when we went to bed. A few miles in, we realized the winds had other plans and we weren’t feeling so hot. 15 miles outside of Houston, two ladies pulled over in front of us on the shoulder. Deeana and Lizzy just finished their winter jobs at the heliskiing operation in Bell II (We pass through Bell II in a week or so on the Cassiar Highway). Deeana lives in Houston and invited us to stay the night at her house. Shower, laundry, roof over your head... it’s hard to say no. They insisted on giving us a ride but we told them we’d see them in a couple hours. When we showed up the girls were building a bonfire out back. Deanna is a massage guru and just by looking she could tell our bodies were out of alignment from all the biking. She showed us some stretches that would be helpful for us. We tried out the stretches in the grass and Deanna started working some deep tissue magic on our legs with her shins. The universe sent us a savior! At night a few friends came over to hang out. Sue, Steven, and Ricky have all spent their lives in the backcountry and they love snow. Ricky is a diehard snowmobiler. During the week he operates an excavator on a pipeline project and he goes sledding every night after work. He told me about one night this winter when he was out riding by himself and his track came off 20 miles from the truck. It was -20 out and he knew he was going to need to start a fire to survive. The snow was crazy deep and there was no way he was walking out. Thankfully there was a patch of trees a few feet away and he spent a couple hours swimming around gathering wood. He gathered enough fuel to get through the night and built a fire next to his sled. While waiting out the dark he got creative with some sticks and was able to get the track back on and limp back to his truck. Listening to Ricky you could tell the situation was tense. It was a great testimony of perseverance.
I woke up early and wandered around the Vanderhoof Park. I quickly bumped in to Jim and his blonde German Shepard, Jax. Jim had already drank all of his morning coffee and was bound and determined to strike up a couple hour chat. He worked for years driving a logging truck and had probably driven every road in British Columbia. He broke his back in a logging accident a few years ago and now spends his time cooking for himself and his wife or walking Jax. We talked logging for quite some time, he shared stories about riding his motorcycle to Mexico and back, and he tried to paint a picture of what it’s like to work winters ice road trucking way up north. He recommended I get a mirror for my bicycle. I figured if a truck driver is advising me to get a mirror then I ought to listen. I spent the morning trying to manifest a mirror. I’ve had it happen a couple times on this trip where if I focus on something that I need for long enough then it will usually present itself. After an hour or so I passed some broken pieces. Then another hour later I found an entire rear view mirror in the ditch. I ripped the glass out, voile strapped it to a stick, and fixed it to my handlebars. Now I can see cars coming and I can ride in the middle of the road. The traffic has died down substantially as we’ve made our way farther in to BC. The last couple days we’ve heard more and more about a town up the road called Smithers that has big mountains with snow on them. The thought of skiing got us psyched to spend all day on the bike. We rolled in to Burns Lake just after dark.
80 miles
April 15
We’ve found the bigger the town, the harder it is to escape. Prince George sucked us in and didn’t spit us out until 2:30 in the afternoon. I’ve been spending a lot of my time on this journey thinking about comfort. For most of us this involves routine, the space we inhabit, what we consume, and the people we surround ourselves with. It is fascinating to pass through towns and landscapes where people are all living in their own constructed comfort. My comfort zone prior to this trip involved an awesome living situation, working in DPS skis manufacturing, and skiing or climbing with friends on my free time. I had no experience bicycle touring prior to this trip and the change in routine made me uncomfortable at times. At first, the miles passed very slowly and I would find myself adding them up as we passed the highway posts. Riding in to a town on a bicycle feels vulnerable especially with the trailer and skis. I’m an introvert and I was very timid to talk to people but I quickly realized there’s nowhere to hide. Over the past couple weeks I’ve found a flow state on the bike. The hours and miles slip by. I look forward to reaching that next town and making a connection with the people there. Before you know it, the uncomfortable becomes comforting. Once we finally set sail from Prince George, we hardly stopped for the next 6 hours. We arrived in Vanderhoof a little after dark and slept in the park. Fun fact: Vanderhoof is the geographical center of British Columbia.
April 14
Today we set our sights on a short ride to Prince George. We were feeling a bit worked from all of the soggy weather and the biking on the detour the night before. It was just a few hours pedal to the city and we were psyched for a shorter day. Over the past week or so we’ve borne witness that the economy of interior BC is built entirely around logging. Every town we’ve passed through has a very large saw mill on the outskirts. Prince George serves as the regional hub for much of the logging operations and logistics. I expected to see a lot more logging trucks on this trip. Everyone I talked to before this journey warned of the heavy logging traffic up this way. I was feeling more and more perplexed after seeing giant mills everywhere, but very few trucks hauling logs. It turns out we’ve gotten very lucky with our timing. In April and May the logging operations shut down. Once the frost comes out of the ground, they enter a time of year called spring break up. The forests are marshy and the country dirt roads turn in to a sloppy mess if they try to keep working. Many loggers we’ve met use this time as vacation. As a cyclist, this has been a huge blessing. Many people thought we were doing this bike trip too early in spring and I even had my own doubts. We are, in fact, always at the mercy of mama nature. We’ve been very fortunate to have so many things align for us, though. The snow is melted out on the roadsides and in towns, the logging trucks aren’t running because of spring break up, and we haven’t been caught by the mosquitos yet (I’m probably speaking too soon on that last one). We got to Prince George around 3 o’clock and spent the afternoon doing the city resupply shuffle. Replenishing bike repair supplies, upping our kinder bueno game, and buying new rain gear were all the priorities this stop.
April 13
The late night of pedaling turned out to be the call. We woke up to snow at sunrise and both of us didn’t budge until it stopped around 11 am. When we walked back over to the bikes I found fresh cougar and moose tracks within feet of our bikes. Neither of them came up the hill where we were sleeping. They just passed through to look for a quick snack and to check out our rigs. Back on the detour road we found the top of the hill after an hour. The fresh snow had melted off and created tacky hero dirt on the road. We ripped down the hills, slinging mud everywhere. At one point we stopped for a snack. A black truck pulled up really slow next to us and a sharp dressed fella got out to say hello. After some chatting, Todd explained that he is a member of the Canadian Parliament. Todd has received a lot of letters from his constituents in the area about the bypass road condition. Todd and his wife decided to spend their Saturday driving the road and stopping in to say hello to some of the people that wrote him. It was cool to see them out there having a look for themselves. They were very surprised to encounter us. Todd was psyched on the goal that we’ve laid out for ourselves. He gave us a commemorative challenge coin that he customarily hands out to heroes that serve in his local community. I can assure you we aren’t heroes. We’re just the jackasses that got sandbagged in to biking the roughest dirt road around. We appreciated the sentiment and thanked him for his support. He said that he would reach out to the mayors of the towns we will be passing through over the next week. The glorious dirt road came to an end after 20 miles and we had lunch at a nice cafe in Quesnel. We hopped back on the busy Hwy 97 and put our heads down for 38 miles of graupel, rain, thunder, and lightning. It’s really nice to have this spring weather keeping us honest.
58 miles
April 12
Sandbagging is defined as hiding the strength, skill or difficulty of something early in an engagement. Today we got sandbagged and it was awesome! I love sandbagging my friends because, if done tastefully, it pushes them to try something they might not have realized they were ready for. In the skiing and climbing world this involves persuading someone that “it’s really not that bad”, “the hike is pretty mellow”, “it’s not that far”, etc etc. I haven’t had the sandbagging karma come back to get me in quite some time, but today we got it good! We slept at the stampede grounds in Williams Lake. We strolled through town in the morning and stopped at the first bike shop in hopes of getting a new back tire for my bike. The shop didn’t have the size I needed but they did have an espresso machine so we ordered some drinks and struck up a conversation with the owner. He asked the usual questions... where ya headed, where you coming from. He was quick to recommend a route out of town that would get us off the freeway for the next 75 mile stretch. He used a couple descriptors such as flat, smooth dirt, shorter distance. The coffees were free on the house! We left the shop fired up to get off the beaten path. We stopped by the other bike shop in town and they had the right size tire for my bike. It took us forever to set it up tubeless and we didn’t make it out of town until 1. Our alternate route took us west, dropping down to the Fraser River. It was a beautiful descent on smooth dirt. Probably a 1000 feet or so of downhill. The bridge was closed when we showed up because a landslide had cut loose and buried the road on the other side. We sat down by the river and ate some lunch while we waited. After some time we jumped in line hoping they’d let us across. One of the construction guys walked over and asked where we were headed. After some back and forth, he asked if we knew about the detour. Of course we didn’t know about any detour! He went on to tell us that there was another landslide about 40 miles upriver. This landslide happened last spring and washed a big chunk of the road in to the water. He said the detour adds on about 40 kilometers and is a dirt road. Then he went on to sandbag us too! He said once you climb up the river bank on the other side it’s pretty flat all the way to Quesnel. Even the detour is mostly flat. We were already pretty committed considering we were all the way down at the river so we smiled and pedaled across the bridge. The dirt road we encountered on the other river bank was the steepest we’ve pedaled and pushing isn’t an option. We were mashing like crazy in our lowest gear just to get up it. Once up on the plateau above the river, the rolling hills continued for miles and miles. The road was a great change of pace and we saw maybe one car every hour or so. This is where you start to be thankful that your friend at the bike shop left out that minor detail involving a detour. He’d put us on the goods but also knew there was no chance in hell we’d have signed up for it if we knew about the fine print. I saw the most diverse wildlife I’ve ever seen in one day. We interrupted a black bear and a fox hanging out on the side of the road, we saw countless deer, ducks and geese were ripping up the skies, I even got buzzed by a drone. It was a real treat! We were both super thankful to be encountering such thriving wilderness and had no problem paying the admittance fee. We stopped for a snack around sunset and a young fella about our age came up a dirt road whistling. He was looking for his bull that escaped. He recommended we pedal some of the detour tonight because there are lots of steep sections with blind curves. He said the locals drive real fast because they’re pissed off about the main road still being in disrepair, so it could be dangerous in the morning. We charged onward and made it to the detour. Thankfully it was dark so we couldn’t see how steep the hills were. They were never ending loose gravel and washboard. We bounced our way up and up and up until we couldn’t handle anymore around 1030 at night. Peeled off a few feet in to the woods and passed out.
April 11
Woke up at the lodge and spent the morning in the hot tub. Bike ran real good today. Nothing crazy, just pass go, collect your miles, and eat a lot.
April 10, 2019
Today we biked through our first legit snowstorm. With the right equipment it’s not so bad. The key is staying dry. We like to go walk around when it’s puking snow to go skiing, biking doesn’t have to be all that different if you’re dressed correctly. The snow was heavy for a bit and we were having to constantly windshield wiper our goggles with our gloves. We’d get a glimpse of the sun and stop to strip down jackets. Then 10 minutes later we were pulled over to put everything back on with the next wave of snow. Cody scored a half price room at a lodge out in the middle of the woods. We’ve definitely found a balance with comforts. We’ve had a couple storm days where we pedaled through soggy weather then stayed the night at a hotel to dry out. It seems silly to voluntarily suffer right now if there are cheap accommodations available. We won’t have the option in a couple weeks. We are only spending about 6 hours a day on the bikes right now. Feeling comfortable with our pace and our ability to keep moving through rain and snow. If we can maintain 55 miles per day we will be in Talkeetna on May 15th. Our climbing orientation with the park rangers is on May 21st. We’d really like to give ourselves a couple days to chill in Talkeetna if possible.
52 miles
April 9
After pedaling a little ways out of Spences Bridge we stopped to shed a layer. I looked up as I was climbing back on my bike and I was surprised to see a man barreling down the shoulder of the highway on his tractor. This was Steve’s brother Mike. He’d kept an eye out for us all morning and wanted to gift us some dried apples for our journey. We met up with him on the hilltop in his driveway and shared some great laughs. Another guy, Simon, from near Pemberton showed up to buy some fruit and joined in. Simon is a fellow backcountry skier and was fired up to see us tugging some skis along. Everyone’s got a story to tell and Mike dished out a great one for all of us. He told us about a time when some people passing thru had a blowout and they were all out of spares so they had to wait a few days for help. Mike and his family took the stranded in to their home. The people turned out to be the blind woman who had just completed the Iditarod and her film team. They were planning to make a movie out of the journey and they played some of the footage for Mike’s family one night. As the story goes, in one of the clips the lead dog got the leash wrapped around its neck. The woman could not see what was going on, but eventually sensed something was wrong. They had raw video footage of her untangling the dog and trying to bring it back to life. Mike’s wife started to cry and they were all worried the dog had died. Mike asked if the dog was still alive and they said, “yeah, he’s right there”. Mike looked over to see the prized lead dog that had escaped death was peeing on the leg of his kitchen table. You can’t make this stuff up! Spences Bridge had sucked us in and we finally got in the groove after leaving Mike and Simon around 12:30. We encountered lots of quality hill climbs out of the valley. We are getting a lot better at pulling these inclines with the weight. The road climbing up along the Thompson River was picturesque. It’s been cool to see myself change my mind about what lies ahead. Going in to this trip, I didn’t know what to expect of interior BC. I naively imagined the place as rainy, dark forest with dispersed, uninhabited ghost towns. I pictured us going days without services. What we’ve encountered has been quite the opposite. We’ve gone through a desert, we’ve met welcoming people in small towns rich with culture, and we’ve been blessed with sunny weather... all those expectations shattered. Isn’t life great when you get proven wrong!
54 miles
April 8, 2019
What goes up, must come down. And well I’ll be damned if we didn’t spend all those fun tokens we’ve been saving up for the last week in one day. We descended so far that we found a desert in British Columbia. I was stressing missing out on spring in the desert, but look at me now. We dropped a massive downhill into Merritt. Bought our first can of bear spray. I tried it out on Cody in the gun store. The owners weren’t very happy with me. Jk jk :). I did cut the zip tie off the trigger so we’re locked and loaded. Those bears better be human aware because we are packing heat. I’ve got it Voile strapped right behind my seat. I need to practice deploying while on the move. We ate at a super tasty native restaurant in town that has fry bread tacos and sandwiches. From Merritt we were granted even more downhill along the Nicola River. After 40 miles of ripping hills and pedaling in the middle of the road, we popped out in Spences Bridge on the Thompson River. A whopping 780 feet in elevation down here. We rolled in around 5:30 and found The Packing House, the only restaurant in town, was still open. The owner Steve was very hospitable and sat down with us to tell some stories after our meal. Steve finds value in sharing stories and also has a deep appreciation for music and art. He got involved with his local government and works on many projects that are spreading art and culture throughout interior BC. Steve was from Seattle originally and used to have a good paying job in the telecom business. He’d grown tired of city life and after a particularly riveting Steve Miller Band concert in the late 80’s, he decided he was gonna move to BC and get in to farming. He got a years leave of absence from his job and headed to Canada. After moving up, he found love at the coffee shop. He married Paulet and they bought a farm together. They were able to support their 5 kids off of the fruits and vegetables they grew on the farm. 10 years ago they bought an old apple packing house in town and opened up a restaurant inside. It’s another one stop shop that acts as post office, convenience store, restaurant, and in their case music venue. Paulet is a musician and they put on concert dinners once a month in the summer. People come in from Vancouver and Kamloops to see the intimate shows. Steve is the server and quite the entertainer. Paulet, on the other hand, quietly does all the cooking in the back. When our food or drinks were ready she would ring the hell out of a bell to get his attention. He would snap out of it for a split second and go perform his duties then jump right back in where he left off with his storytelling. I imagine that bell is an important part of their loving relationship. Interactions such as these are worth their time in gold on this journey, and in day-to-day life. There’s something inherently beautiful about slowing down to share these stories that are worth being heard.
61 Miles
April 7, 2019
We’ve been biking upriver since day 12 when we hit the Columbia in southern Washington. I think going upriver means going uphill? 20 miles of pedaling along the Similkameen spit us out in Princeton. This is a proper town with a big grocer and multiple restaurants. Both of our trailer kickstands broke here. Quite kind of them to do so in a town with a hardware store. The trailer kickstand has been a key player in us making it this far. Every time we want to dismount the bike, without the kickstand, we would have to find something to lean the bike up against or just let it topple over. We bought some new nuts and bolts and got them back in working order. I went to the grocery store and had some fun filling up a basket with all sorts of chocolates that are hard to come by at home. Kinder Buenos, Aeros, Kinder Chocolates. Heading north out of Princeton we were greeted by a lovely headwind. The road passed lake after lake as we kept going and each one was more and more frozen. We must still be going uphill? I thought it was just the wind that was slowing us down. The sun started to go down and we were finally on top of something and looking at some real downhill. We kept plugging along and pitched our tent in a cow pasture.
57 Miles
April 6, 2019
Canada Baby!! Today was a milestone, but in the grand scheme of this journey it feels like we are just lacing up our shoes to get going. We’re about 1000 miles in, with a couple thousand to go. Crossing the border gave us a moment to reflect on how far we’ve come. Entering in to a new country also provided newfound psyche to keep giving our best on the days that lie ahead. Leaving Oroville, we headed west out of the Okanogan Valley and climbed in to the Similkameen Valley. We’ve grown to cherish the winding two lane roads with nonexistent shoulders and no traffic. The remote border crossing came pretty early on in the day during a light rain shower. The Canadian Border Patrol ran through their standard list of questions, heckled me for sitting down to drink water while they checked my passport, then wished us the best and sent us on our way. Things instantly felt better in Canada. There are a helluva lot less beer cans and liquor bottles in the ditches. That must mean the people passing us on blind curves are a little more sober! The first Canadian town we encountered was Keremeos. We stopped and made our rounds: lunch spot then cafe and bakery. We’ve developed a new habit called the Breve. This is a cappuccino with half-and-half instead of whole milk. These suckers pack a punch with double the calories (mostly fat) in a 12 oz cup. Throw in the two shots of espresso... see ya later! There’s no telling how many calories we are actually burning because these fancy new watches don’t have the 100 pound trailer on the bike ride setting. I’m venturing to guess we can eat and drink whatever we want, whenever we want and it still won’t be enough. At least that game plan seems to be working well so far. Pedaling out of Keremeos was quite distracting with steep hills on both sides. We stopped in Hedley, a cool old mining town, in the afternoon. We scored some new Canadian flavors of beer at the country store and continued up river to the Stemwinder campground on the bank of the Similkameen. On this trip we’ve stayed in a lot of public campgrounds that aren’t open yet. It’s pretty easy getting the bikes around locked gates. Being a few weeks ahead of season with good weather has it’s perks; campgrounds all to ourselves, no camp fees, clean bathrooms. Free is best!
April 5, 2019
I set a couple of extraneous, personal goals for this journey. They are as follows: a push-up for every mile, learn Spanish, and ditch the bike shorts. Over the last couple of days, I accomplished my first. When we started to scheme this adventure, I dreaded the idea of wearing a diaper for 2 months straight. I’ve always despised padded bike shorts. On this long distance trip we spend a lot of time off the bike and diapers are really uncomfortable to walk around town in. Through working in manufacturing, I’ve grown to appreciate quality made products that have inherent performance benefits because of their design. As I prepped my gear list for the trip I caught wind of some leather bike saddles that form to your anatomy over time. I spent the extra coin and bought a Brooks England saddle. I got the one that has springs to provide some extra cushion over bumps because we’re riding on rigid frame bikes. When I installed the saddle on my bike it was super stiff and I never made the time to break it in before departure. The last thing I wanted to do before biking to Alaska was go for a bike ride. There was still lots of incredible skiing to be had! So lo and behold, I set off from Salt Lake with a brand new bike seat. The saddle and I broke the ice over the first few days. At first we didn’t get along so well. After a week or so we started to realize we had some things in common and there was hope that we might be friends some day. The thing is, when you have no choice butt to spend a lot of time with someone you start to form a bond. You start to shape and mold each other, whether you like it or not. After 14 days of tough times, I felt like my saddle knew me better than anyone and I was ready to take that next step. I woke up early on the 15th day and committed to just a pair of regular ole shorts. Ahhhh, this feels right. Over the coming days I wondered if maybe we went too far, too fast. I'm happy to announce that the timing couldn’t have been any better. Now when I stop, I’ll often get distracted by my seat, just admiring how far we’ve come and daydreaming about all the great times we have in store. Cody is usually pretty quick to snap me out of the trance. As far as the push-up goal goes, I’ve got a serious back log. I’ve been having some wrist troubles from holding on to the handlebars for a couple weeks straight. If you have my contact info please reach out and heckle me to get caught up. Today we biked from Omak, WA to Oroville, WA. We stopped just shy of the Canadian border with more rain moving in. Shacked up in the tent listening to the beautiful sound of rain on nylon.
43 miles
April 4, 2019
Today was a bike touring powder day. In the middle of the night some gale force winds came ripping down the Columbia River and they nearly blew our tent away. We woke up and staked the tent back out. Just a taste of what’s to come on the mountain. We were finally able to get back to sleep after the wind subsided and the tent quit rattling. We got up early in the morning and were pleasantly surprised to find it calm as a cucumber outside. The road north along Hwy 97 was a treat. It undulated up and down small hills as it hugged the bank of the river. The sun was blaring and we felt great. A few miles in we passed Lone Pine Fruit and Espresso, a quaint store chocked full of goodies. We pulled in and sampled many made from scratch pastries, sparkling sodas, and espresso drinks. We anticipated the winds to pick up sometime in the afternoon and slow us down a bit, but they never did. We passed through many small towns and stopped for lunch in Brewster. An elderly couple sitting next to us was curious about what we were up to and very excited to hear about our grand plans. They generously handed us 20 dollars and said our next meal was on them. It’s a funny thing traveling by bike, the kindest people come out of the wood work everywhere you stop so long as you’re willing to open up to them. The older generations especially get a kick out of it and we often hear the timeless saying “kids these days, they’re all distracted”. A few days prior, while eating lunch, we had a similar experience with an 85 year old veteran. He came up to us and simply but very genuinely said “it’s beautiful”. Those words will stick with me for the rest of this journey. This whole thing often feels completely ridiculous, but in moments such as these I pedal away with a smile strapped to my face and tears of joy streaming down my cheeks. Maybe it’s just the endorphins kicking back in. Hwy 97 eventually branches off from the Columbia River and heads up the Okanogan Valley. As soon as we entered in to the valley we were assisted by a beautiful, steady tail wind. When you’re pedaling a 150 pound rig and a tail wind gets a hold of you, the only thing I can relate it to is effortlessly floating through bottomless powder. You feel like you’re in a vacuum, your surroundings are completely still, because you’re moving at the exact speed of the wind. You are completely locked in and if the stars are aligned long enough, it becomes an out of body experience. I often forget my legs are spinning, I’m just along for the free ride. We pumped the brakes outside Omak, Washington and got a room for the night at the 12 Tribes Casino with rain in the forecast. Casinos have great amenities and cheap rooms because they expect you will dump your money in to the slot machines. We just take lots of hot showers, lounge in the hot tub, get room service dinner, and rest easy in a bed.
73 miles
April 3, 2019
You gotta pay to play and we paid for it big time this morning. We woke up at 830 feeling thrashed. Our bodies were run down and we were in desperate need of fuel. We coasted down the hill to a coffee shop and indulged in pastries and legendary breakfast croissants. From the coffee shop along the river, there are miles upon miles of paved bike trails that take you north out of the city. We made it a couple hundred yards and I spotted a dock with a ramp that extends out in to the Columbia. We biked down the ramp and laid down in the sun on the dock. It was a beautiful warm day, the nicest we’ve seen thus far, and we were both thankful to be sitting still and soaking up the suns rays. We took turns jumping in the river to cool off. After an hour or two, we set off on the impeccable bike way. The trail winds through orchards and past acres and acres of blossoming cherry trees. We had an uncommon tailwind for the area and were excited to have a boost upriver. Once out of town, we spotted a gas station across the way and biked through a field to get some snacks for the road ahead. We both absolutely shredded our tires with goat heads. Cody was on his last trailer tube and ran out of patches with 5 or 6 holes still in it. We’ve been talking about putting Stan’s sealant in the trailer tubes for the last 500 miles, but in reality the flats have given us a good excuse to get off the bikes and practice our sailor verbiage. Not having the tool to get the valve stem out to dump the sealant in, we got creative with a safety pin. It worked like a charm! Looks like no more flats this trip ;) by the time we got the bikes running again the wind had switched directions and cranked up a couple notches. We moseyed along for a bit and quickly decided to pull off at Daroga State Park to give our bodies a chance to rest. The park is an island on the Columbia River and has proper amenities. Warm showers, electricity, green grass, and picnic tables. We’re living large on our first rest day! 24 miles
April 2, 2019
While camped out at Desert Aire the night before, we flirted with the idea of getting an Air BnB in Wenatchee for the evening. I decided to hop on Facebook and look for a bike community page. I threw together a quick plea for help on the Wenatchee Mountain Bikers page, asking for a yard to sleep in and offering cold beer in exchange for some hot showers. Within minutes people were offering us places to stay. Evan, the owner of the local bike shop Ridge Cyclesport, was the first to offer to take us in. We had 76 miles to Wenatchee and started early with hopes of making it there in time to roam downtown at sunset. The weather had other plans and we woke up to a pretty brutal head wind blowing through camp. The wind played tricks on us all day, shifting with our every turn and demoralizing our efforts. We plugged away, dangling the promise of a place to stay and a city to explore in the front of our minds. We finally pulled in to Evan’s driveway after dark and he graciously offered up showers and laundry and gave us some local beta on where to go for dinner. We freshened up and stripped the trailers and bags off our bikes to go roam the city. Psyched to be on lightweight bikes, we hot rodded around, racing one another through the streets. The local pizza shop was open late so we stopped in for a big pie and some tasty beers. They closed at 10 and pointed us down the way to the next watering hole. Cody and I shared conversation throughput the night about where we personally find our drive to do things like this. We exchanged stories about people in our lives that inspire us and how their actions have shaped who we are. We also talked quite a bit about what occupies our minds when we sit on the bicycles for 6-8 hours a day. It was cool to step through each other’s mind games and see where we differ and relate. We charged back up the hill to Evans house at midnight. The conversations continued and we finally tapped out at 230 am. Ouch. 76 miles + midnight street racing
April 1, 2019
False start from Kennewick. We woke up and had a hard time motivating to get on the road. Pounded a couple cups of coffee to try and put our bodies in gear. I dropped my Sony RX100 camera two days prior and dented the lens barrel. It didn’t want to turn on afterwards and I wanted to resolve before leaving the city. We ran by Best Buy and I bought a Canon point and shoot replacement. As soon as I got outside I decided to fidget with the Sony and of course it started working again. It was still acting kinda funny though, so I decided to roll on with the new Canon as well. While going through the city the hunger struck deep. We ended up eating two meals in a row at separate restaurants, because calories. We finally set our sights on escaping the city around 2 o’clock. The route was pleasant, piecing together back roads and trails along canals. We popped out on Hwy 240 and grinded away for a couple hours through arid plains and a headwind. This was when I decided I much prefer biking through mountains or alongside water. Long flat open spaces just don’t tickle my fancy. We both ran out of water and finally crossed paths with the entrance to the Hanford Nuclear Site. We asked the armed guards if they could top us off and they graciously helped us out. The highway dropped down to the Columbia River and the sun was going down. We had the option to sleep in a rest area or push on 10 miles to Desert Aire. We sacked up, turned on our bike lights, and settled in for a late arrival. In town, we raided the store then headed out to the Priest Rapids Recreation Area on the bank of the river. Seeing a convenience store after 40 miles of no concessions might be best described as a religious experience while bike touring. A hardy pasta dinner and we were off to sleep. 58 miles.
March 31, 2019
We spent the night in the Milton-Freewater City Park behind the baseball field. There were a couple tweakers slinking around in the shadows and we had a hard time falling asleep. We were woken up at midnight by the sheriff who had no trouble with us sleeping there, he was simply worried about our safety. He said that he would keep making rounds throughout the night to check up on us. He advised us to batten down the hatches on our valuables so they don’t go walking off in the middle of the night. We awoke early in the morning to a calm, clear day and packed up quickly. We pedaled to the outskirts of town and were treated to two lane roads through acres and acres of vineyards. Forty miles of perfect temps and winding downhill spit us out on the bank of the Columbia River. We stopped at the first gas station we saw for some lunch and an espresso. While sitting inside a man came up to us and asked if we were pedaling from Utah to Alaska. We were a bit confused about how he knew what we were up to. We’d booked an Air BnB for the night in Kennewick and he just so happened to be our host. Rick was 20 miles from home out on a Sunday cruise on his motorcycle. He gave us some beta on how to get to his house in the city without being on the main roads and we told him we’d see him in a few hours. When we got in to town all of our electronics were dead so we went by feel to where we thought the house was. We weren’t sure where we were so we approached some people doing some spring cleaning on their yard. They let us charge up our phones and invited us to hang out. We spent an hour in their driveway enjoying their company and hearing stories from their travels around the world working in the nuclear industry. We thanked them for their hospitality and pedaled a few blocks to our accommodations for the night. Neither of us ever watch TV but we got sucked in to the tubes for a couple hours binge watching shows. We soaked in the hot tub, did laundry, charged things, and slept easy in the comfortable bed. 60 miles
March 30, 2019
We woke up in the yard next to the tavern and didn’t have far to go for breakfast, water, and coffee. After fueling up we got on the bikes and headed out of town. Just a couple hundred feet down the road we passed a couple walking their dogs. They were psyched to see us pedaling by. A few minutes later, the guy, Terry, comes charging up on his road bike. He’d ran home quickly, thrown on his gear, and wanted to bike with us. He pedaled with us for an hour or so and and shared great conversations about his passion for bike touring and adventuring. Summerville sure is small but it packs a punch with genuine people. Thanks for showing us a good time! By taking the back roads we’d signed up for a much bigger pass to climb over, good thing the beer was flowing like water last night! The pass was a 20 mile climb with 3700 vert and we were averaging a whopping 4 miles per hour spinning up it. It’s an incredible road up and over the blue mountains with practically no cars. Russ told us about an old ski resort up on top that he grew up skiing at and we decided we had to stop and stretch the legs. Spout Springs Ski Area wasn’t open this year because it changed ownership but you are allowed to go tour up the hill. There’s two chairs there and a couple hundred feet of skiing. We hiked up to the top and ripped a quick lap down in warm, isothermal snow. I knew we weren’t gonna drag these skis all this way and not use em! After our ski we headed on down the road. We were treated to a 30 mile windy downhill through green pastures with 5000 feet of descent. Definitely the coolest day of bike riding I’ve ever had. 54 miles
March 29, 2019
Going with the flow. After staying the night outside of Haines, Oregon we were psyching ourselves up for a big day. We got on the road at a decent hour and made it to La Grande around lunch. Went to the car wash and hosed down the bikes because they were starting to get pretty grimy. Mine was still grinding after the wash so we ran by the local bike shop to open up the bottom bracket. The owners of the shop were super helpful and even went so far as to recommend some other route options that would get us off of I-84. They mentioned a small town 15 miles north that had a tavern with good cheeseburgers and cold beer... say no more. The bike out of the city and away from the buzzing I-84 put our minds at ease. We rolled in to Summerville, Oregon around sunset. The town is boasting a sign upon entry that says population 135 and we were later told that includes cats and dogs. The tavern is the only business in town and functions as a cafe, convenience store, post office, and gas station. We were greeted with some weird looks when we walked in with our bike tights on and clacking shoes. Locals streamed in and out and some started to open up to us as the drinks kept flowing. We made some friends and realized we weren’t going any further down the road tonight. We asked the bartender if we could sleep in the yard and promised to stay til close and sweep up all the peanuts to pay rent. She called the owner and we got the OK. One particular gentleman, Russ, could tell that we were up to no good. He was born and raised there near Summerville, rides horses in the rodeo, and works for the forestry service. Unlike many of the other cowboys in the bar, he also shared a child-like passion for snow skiing. He’d just returned from a 3500 mile road trip of his own where we drove around the west and skied at every ski resort he crossed paths with. 10 ski resorts including many of the ones close to our home in Salt Lake City. Russ was giddy as hell to share stories from his travels and to hear about our journey. It was awesome to hear him recount the best day of his trip, a sunny day hiking and skiing the cirque at Snowbasin in fresh powder. Russ got a kick out of what we were doing and decided he was gonna support us by buying our dinner, all our beer, and our breakfast in the morning and he was not gonna take no for an answer. So we drank a bunch more beer (thank god this tavern didn’t have liquor!), shot pool and shot the shit with the locals, swept up all the peanuts, and stumbled out in to the yard. 47 miles
March 28, 2019
Woke up to more rain and a park ranger at Farewell Bend state Park along the Snake River. We rolled in at dark and knowingly camped in a closed loop. We couldn’t find the spots that were open and didn’t care to look too hard. Our camp fees came with showers. Taking a nice hot shower before a day of pedaling in really cold rain showers balances things out, right? You know the story from here, back on the shoulder of I-84. But today we saw our first dragon fight (or at least that’s what I’m calling them)! So let me paint a picture here.. you’re biking up a mountain pass and lots of the semis are courteous enough to get in to the left lane to make extra room for you and your wobbly trailer. The dragon fight happens when the semi in the left lane gets passed on the inside by another semi that can’t afford to downshift. The left lane semi then merges back in to the right lane without realizing that his fellow dragon is right beside him and he runs his comrade off the interstate. This was a special case because the left laner was one of those fedex trucks with three trailers (150 foot tail!) so once he realized and overcorrected back in to the left lane his tail was whipping all over the place. Cheering commenced from all bystanders! After cresting the pass we descended down in to Baker City, Oregon. A really beautiful valley with tons of wildlife and stunning views. 63 miles.
March 27, 2019
The flat tires continue with a vengeance and provide endless free entertainment! We woke up to rain outside our hotel room so we opted to lounge around the lobby and sample everything available on the continental breakfast. The weather finally cleared for a bit around noon and we were jonesing to get outside. We shuttled our gypsy wagon junk show down the elevator with the hotel carts and reassembled the steeds in the carport. Back on the shoulder of I-84, the semis constantly passing have morphed in to dragons in my mind. You know life’s weird when the day to day is getting blasted by a truck every 30 seconds while you putz along at 10 mph. It didn’t take long for the flat tires to fire back up. Cody got 3 trailer flats today and I got 2. Every time one of us would blow a tire the other would be keeled over laughing. By the end of the day we were timing each other on patching the tubes. The course record so far is 6 minutes from dismount to pedaling away. Working on our nascar commentating. It’s really fun to embrace everything that goes wrong and make light of the situation. We’ve got speakers mounted on our handlebars and often break out some dance moves for the cars passing by while the other is repairing their tire. We crossed in to Oregon today and we are really appreciating the change in scenery. Beautiful rolling hills and tonight we’re camped on the bank of the mighty Snake River. 61 miles.
March 26, 2019
And on the 7th day the lord said keep pedaling dammit, so we woke up and wrestled our rigs out of the mighty fine ditch that the Mountain Home, Idaho deputy sheriff had recommended as good camping and headed on down I-84. The winds had calmed down and swung around to the west and greeted us on the freeway. 40 miles of grinding got us to Boise where we ran some errands (read: Cracker Barrel slaughter fest). Calories come in many shapes and sizes and the nice thing about this bike touring thing is that you can embrace them all. After visiting the local bike shop and electronics store, we headed out in to the rain. Biking along the highway we got 3 flat tires on the shoulder of the busy highway. The last one was a screw and two pieces of bailing wire (all at once!) that totally shredded Clay’s back tire. With rain pouring and a hotel in sight we walked down the road and booked a room. 65 miles and an evening of bike repairs.
March 25, 2019
Slow start from the hot springs. Left around 11:30 and biked along the snake river. Beautiful valley with waterfalls and nice bridges. Got on I-84 after 20 miles. Had the most epic SE tail wind that blasted us up and down hills. The nice thing about these heavy loads is that they really lock into a tail wind... and a headwind, well you can imagine. First time we’ve encountered our down geared bikes not being able to keep up. The wind eventually shifted east and we sailed in some cross winds. We’d get the bikes laid in to the wind and just mash away at the pedals. 67 miles on the day and staying the night in a real nice ditch outside of Mountain Home, Idaho.
March 24, 2019
Woke up to a few inches of wet snow at camp. Lounged around in the tent in the morning and waited for the sun to pop out. Turns out we’d camped on a high pass and there wasn’t any snow just a few miles in to the ride that day. Hopped back on Highway 93 to brave the semis and non existent shoulder. Talk about nerve wracking. Tons of hail, rain, sun, and rainbows. Finally found a system of back roads that would connect us to I-84. Got offered a free place at Miracle Hot Springs. Super nice people that filled us up a private bath and let us stay in one of their dome tents. 67 miles.
March 23, 2019
We turned north on Highway 93 in Wells. Hellacious road. The shoulder was death defying with the rumble strip right down the middle of the 2 ft wide ribbon of deteriorating asphalt. Tons of semi truck traffic and 5th wheel motor homes buzzing us all day long. This road is actually frequently taken as a bike route, we even saw another tourist on it. I cannot recommend the section from Wells to twin falls though. We stopped at Jackpot, Nevada and walked around the casino in our bike get ups and ate some pizza then spun outta town at dark and camped. 67 miles
March 22, 2019
After leaving Wendover on Friday morning, the section of I-80 headed west to Wells turned out to be a “mountain stage” 😂 with 3 pretty good passes. 60 miles and 4k+ of vert. We’ve got our gearing pretty dialed for the climbs with 18 gear inches on the low end for both of us. Biking I-80 was great, huge shoulder and nice scenery.
March 21, 2019
Gave up on the I-80 frontage roads and opted to bike the shoulder of the highway. Nice and wide and all of the trucks changed lanes for us. We’re pretty hard to miss with our gypsy rigs. Really beautiful biking beside the lake. Hardly a drop of rain out here. Sounds like it was a wet one in the Wasatch. Camping west of Wendover tonight. 75 miles
March 20, 2019
Left SLC around 9AM and we were done pedaling by 6PM. Had to portage the rigs across two barbed wire fences. Google maps for bike can’t be trusted outside the city. Also, the trailers were sketchy as shit because we had too much weight on them (fishtailing like crazy) complete tear down and repack to get the weight on the frame. smooth sailing after that. Rolling at 13 mph on the flats. 70 miles
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