The bugs are bad in this site. We’d had a general reprieve from the bugs the past few days. We can’t really make sense of where they are bad and where they are not. Is it the area? Is it camping in gravel vs not gravel? We have no idea.
In this site, it’s little flies. Not black biting flies, but smaller, stickier, dumber flies. They land on your face, in your hair… everywhere. And they don’t “shoo away”. They are super easy to kill. Which is good? But also gross.
We wandered down the road to the Crow Creek Gold Mine where we assumed there would be some port-a-potties — or at least something to show for the $35 privilege of camping there. We were not disappointed. There were port-a-potties. But not garbage.
We wandered around the gold mine museum, which was absolutely adorable. The flowers were AMAZING. I was more enamored with that than the historical value… we walked along the river… I got my newly laundered, favorite socks muddy and was quite cross about it…
On our way out, Dave went inside to ask them if we could pay for another night, since the weather forecast here was better than almost anywhere else and there were a few things we could tick off our lists here. And, although we had the whole place to ourselves last night, apparently OUR site was reserved for tonight (oh the irony…). So we picked another and dragged the camper to that one before heading out to talk to a kayaking tour place and to go find a place to rent some MOUNTAIN BIKES.
Dave had sat me down to propose doing the kayaking trip out of here. He pulled his phone out of the holster, unlatched the safety and loaded the premium weather app once again. He used terms like hourly percentage and satellite imagery. I nodded my head a lot and said “mmmhmmmm….” I DIDN’T say “Puffins.” I knew damn well the Spencer Glacier did not have puffins. If I’m not willing to do the planning, I have to be willing to keep my mouth shut and trust the planner. I said, “Sounds great! I agree!”
The Chugach Adventure Guides offered all kinds of trips to see Spencer Glacier. We stopped there and Dave hopped out to got talk to them, as they were not answering their phone. He was in there forEVER. I thought maybe he slipped out the back and was on Spencer Glacier without me.
When he finally came back, he said, “Well. Unfortunately the train is full tomorrow.” (You need to take the train for the out and back leg to the glacier because there are no roads.).
“Ohhhh. Dang,” I said.
“But I signed us up for a helicopter instead.”
And that, dear friends, is why Dave is the planner and I am not. I can tell you with 100% certainty that our trip would be 95% less fun if I were in charge.
I get to ride in my very first helicopter tomorrow!
But first I have to mountain bike.
So off we went to the mountain bike place.
The good news is: they have e-mountain bikes.
The bad news is: they have e-mountain bikes.
Obviously, it’s good news is that they are e-bikes. But it’s also bad. Because, since they are e-bikes, we have the ability to ride UP the mountain. Which, despite being e-bikes, is still really, REALLY hard.
And, actually, terrifying. Because these bikes weigh about 60 lbs. Hard to describe, but there is a fine line between not enough assist and too much assist. Your wheels spin out on the shale/gravel path — which is SUPER steep — and if you stop you are basically screwed. Because you can’t get going again. When you DO eventually get going, the assist kicks in and you risk popping a wheelie — which can also be terrifying.
Mind you, this is MY experience, not Dave’s. I’m a TERRIBLE biker. I have no idea why, but it’s a fact. Dave had dialed into a formula that worked for him with the assist and gears — not to mention the fact that he seemed to not have a problem getting going again on a steep incline. I never really figured any of it out. The only formula that seemed to work for me was 25% assist so I didn’t risk death — which wasn’t enough to get me up the steep stuff. At one point I simply couldn’t ride up the shale path any further, so I screamed a little as Dave sped past me, hopped off and attempted to push the bike up. It was so steep, and the bike so heavy, that I truly could not do it. I could not push the bike up the hill. I turned around. I realized I also couldn’t ride it down (too steep). And it dawned on me: what in the HELL am I even DOING HERE???
I did make it to the top. It was comforting to hear Dave equally concerned about our route down. Comforting because I wasn’t the only one. Discomfiting because… we were stuck. We HAD to ride down. There was no other way.
To say that we were way beyond our abilities is putting so mildly as to be laughable. Survival was my goal. Prayer was my technique. Brakes were my friend. We pretty much crawled down various blue downhill trails (intermediate, people. There were no green trails). Again, these bikes are SO HEAVY and SO DIFFERENT than a regular mountain bike. The ludicrousness of the guys in the shop sending us off to ride this mountain downhill on these bikes is insanity. I’m pretty sure we could be featured on a segment of “Lucky to Be Alive.”
We were (lucky to be alive). But we also payed for a full day rental, so our fun wasn’t over just yet. We set off on the next recommended trail: Winner Creek. Thankfully, it was a tame, well-maintained trail. I couldn’t get over how cool it was. Vail needs something like that to hold up to all the summer tourists it gets. The trails in Vail are so beaten down…
I was singing and feeling all cool, like a real mountain biker as we sped past pedestrians on a smooth gravel path. “Now THIS is mountain biking!”
(Sarcasm/not sarcasm)
We kept going, as we vaguely remembered the guy at the shop telling us how there was one trail that went behind Alyeska mountain and popped back out in Girdwood. Not that he was really to be trusted, though, having sent us straight up the mountain with tiny little plastic caps on our heads to protect us from death. But we weren’t thinking about that. We were just enjoying a trail we could actually navigate.
I’m not sure how long we biked before the trail became more of a single track. Several miles, for sure. It was gorgeous. And so was the weather. We did eventually hit terrain that got pretty tricky – 90 degrees turns between rocks and loose shale with narrow lanes between large boulders. I have this problem keeping my front tire steady — especially pedaling uphill. It wildly veers side to side. Not good when you need to thread the needle. Thread the needle or DIE, that is. That’s how it feels anyway. If not die, then experience very serious bodily harm.
There is ALWAYS the tendency for both of us to “keep going” in any situation: hiking, driving and biking. “Just to see.” It’s something we both suffer from. So I can’t even blame Dave. But in this case I pulled the pin. I tapped out. I quit. I told him “I can’t do this. It’s too scary.”
And then I felt like a super big baby. A weeny. I felt guilty.
Which is all stupid. I shouldn’t feel like that. And I tried not to…
So we turned around, me behind Dave. Verbally giving myself a pep talk. Praying to God. Telling myself to “Relax.” And “Just take your time.” And…. my tire hit a boulder and I skidded sideways and jumped off my bike and the seat rammed into my butt while I dug my feet into the loose rabble as the tire went over the edge and the spiked pedal hit my calf and I hung on trying to hold that stupid-heavy bike and myself from rolling over the cliff.
I did manage to not die.
And I got back on my bike. And was thanking God for sparing me. And I came upon Dave walking back down the trail to come find me (he heard me scream) and I started crying and couldn’t stop. All adrenaline. But I think it freaked Dave out cuz he was super nice to me for the rest of the day.
I’ll have to remember that. Maybe pull it out of my back pocket someday.
Aside from that relatively short section of the trail, it was quite nice. We finished our day with the bikes and turned them back in. As we were talking to the guys, I was telling them about my trouble doing the uphill on the mountain and getting stuck and one of them goes, “ohhhhh. We forget to show you how to do WALK MODE…” There is a feature where the bike will self-propel as you walk beside it. OMG I wanted to KILL them both. Squeeze their skrawny little hippy necks. Walk mode….
We headed back to the campsite hoping the bugs wouldn’t be too bad. I made pork chops with a big portobello mushroom that i found in the cooler …
which I had bought to go with the steak from a few nights ago but forgot! Also some potatoes and broccoli. Tasty fare. I forced Dave to make a fire since I had dumped some meat juice in the fire ring — seriously, what are you supposed to do with stuff like that in bear country? I have no idea…
We do like that this campground is at least quiet. We got to thinking that we probably needed to stay here one more night so I hopped online (another perk of this location) to reserve it. And…
You guessed it.
It was already reserved for tomorrow.
So we found YET ANOTHER site that was open for tomorrow. We need to be to the Chugach glacier outfitters for our helicopter trip at 7:30 am so we debated moving the camper before going to bed but opted to do it in the morning.
Janet Hughes says
Omg! I am so with you about the hippy bike rental dude. It would have totally changed the experience. On the positive side, now that you have survived the ordeal, it made for a great story Jen. We too seem to pick the ONE site that is booked for the next night we decide to stay. If we both seem to be so cursed, someone else out there must be having some mighty fine luck in this department, statistically speaking:)
I am totally enjoying your Alaska blog. A refreshing change from the usual travel blogs. I love the honesty. All those mishaps you share happen to the other campers, they just don’t tell us 😉like it is.
Onward ho, and thanks
Janet