Journal

Bryce Canyon to Las Vegas...hoodoos, Zion and the North Rim

thefuegoproject — Mon, 1 Dec 2008 20:41:00 GMT

As we pushed on into the wind for the last 15 miles uphill to Bryce Canyon, Anna spots another cyclist riding up behind us. 'Could it be Wayne?', we spot the beard, the cap and the dark bags, 'it is!'. He had been pushing hard to catch us on the hill, so Anna spun around to meet him. We had first met Wayne just out of Jackson WY in Grand Teton NP from where he had headed to the mountain passes of Colorado. Two days earlier Adrian (our Swiss friend) had told us of a cyclist coming over Boulder mountain like we had, but a day later, in snow flurries, with a big beard and we knew then it could well be Wayne, and it was. He had previously been cycling with his Swiss girlfriend who unfortunately had to return home to work after Jackson, so he had been cycling alone and was keen to join us to Bryce.

Bryce Canyon is situated above 8,000 feet high up on a plateau, snow covered some of the ground around the campground under the Ponderosa pines and the temperature dropped well below freezing at night. The main features at Bryce are sandstone hoodoos, delicate pink, orange and red pillars of rock, windows, fins and slot canyons that fill a natural amphitheatre. With names like 'Thor's Hammer',' the Hunter',' the Queens Garden' and 'Fairyland Point' you can appreciate the imagery this place creates. We hiked through slot canyons and under balanced hoodoos and carved walls along the Najavo trail and Queens Garden trail, looking up in awe at the gravity defying features carved by water and ice into the sandstone. The exposed tops of the cliffs are also home to Bristlecone pines, thought to be the oldest living trees on earth, gnarled and slightly scraggly looking, a few twisted branches, needles close to the branches, yet majestic trees eeking out an existence on these windswept hills of eroding rock. At night the moon was full so we took a short walk out from behind our camp and experienced a haunting view of the hoodoos, lit up by the moonlight.

We spent our nights at Bryce inside at Rubys Inn in front of the fire because it was bitterly cold once the sun went down. Over maps and photos and with the news that the road to the North Rim was still open, we decided with Wayne that we would ride to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon together.

We had to negotiate a tunnel through Zion NP that bicycles are prohibited from riding through. After an hour wait and some discussions with the park staff about the need for a better way to get cyclists through the tunnel (they actually encourage hitching through and provide no other alternative, even after you have paid your entrance fee!), we finally get a ride through with a pick-up truck. In Zion we spent a day riding up the scenic Zion Canyon drive past large rock walls such as the 'Court of the Patriarchs', 'the Weeping Wall', and 'the Temple of Sinawava'. We walked up the riverside walk into the narrows of the Virgin River, steep canyon walls carved out over thousands of years by the icy cold Virgin River. We then hiked up the busy paved 'Angels Landing' trail, to a steep rocky ridge and with the help of some chains, to an overlook they call 'Angels Landing' which offered spectacular views down to the valley below. Back down the road we camped at the Watchmen campground and watched stars blaze a trail across the clear night sky.

To get out of Zion we either had to ride back up the hill and through the tunnel again or take a dirt road up onto Gooseberry Mesa. We decided on the dirt road alternative which we found out the locals call 'cry baby hill'. We are constantly being told how steep hills are, or how we won't be able to ride there and they always end up being quite alright and rideable. So we usually respond 'we've had worse' and take their advice with a large pinch of salt. This time however, 'Cry baby hill' turned out to be quite the hill. The loose rutted gravel road pinched straight up and we were all very quickly out of gears. As soon as my front wheel lost traction I was off the bike. It was impossible to get back on the bike on the steep hill and loose surface so the only option was to stay off and push my bike and trailer up the hill. This is the first hill in over 5,000 miles that we have had to walk up so it was no small thing. With all my strength I pushed, then stopped every 15 metres or so. I looked up the hill and Anna had walked small sections but still managed to ride most parts of the hill. Behind me Wayne was cursing, leaned at an angle into his loaded bike, he hauled it uphill step by step, both of us sweated in the warm midday sun. After several sections of riding and then walking it flattened out after a mile or so of 20 per cent graded hill. The views back over Zion were spectacular from the top of the Mesa. A bit of a taste for what some of the hills and roads might be like in Central and South America.

After the peace and quiet of the gravel road over Gooseberry Mesa we then rejoined the trucks, traffic and small shoulder of the highway 59 into Arizona to camp at the Kanab Indian Reservation at Pipe Springs National Monument. A funny little campground, almost closed for the season and no one wanted to take our $5 for the night, 'no you don't pay here, pay over there', which then followed by 'no, you pay at the Mobil gas station', who told us, 'no you have to go back to the RV park and pay the camp host (who was still sleeping at this hour of the morning)'. We wanted to pay since it was so little, but noone wanted our money, so we cycled on after a free night of showers, a rarity on our trip.

It took us three days of riding from Zion to reach the North Rim of the Grand Canyon including a fairly tough day of climbing up to Jacob Lake at nearly 8,000 feet again. We pitched our tents in the closed and newly refurbished Jacob Lake National Forest campground. The best campgrounds for us are those that are closed - they are free, there's noone else there which means you can choose whichever site you like, you don't have to answer any questions, there's no noisy RV's or generators to disturb the peace and quiet, and in this case there was water and toilets available over at the nearby lodge.

From Jacob Lake we rode further up the Kaibab Plateau to 8,800 feet. Once again we were riding among Aspen and Ponderosa pines with layers of snow blanketing the shaded sections of forest. Usually the north rim road closes by mid-October with snow, so we were extremely lucky to still be able to ride into the Grand Canyon this way. At the north rim campground it was back to basic winter facilities and there were only several other campers there. Unfortunately the RV closest to us fired up their generator before dark, making us wish we had camped a little further away. It's one of the joys of camping in the USA and Canada, listening to the hum of generators and engines in park campgrounds, keeping the otherwise oblivious occupants warm inside with lights on while drowning out the sounds of birds, squirrels and the silence of the forest mmm...how's the serenity? By 8:15pm we have had enough and Anna approaches them to turn it off out of respect to the whole place. I offered back-up with a heavy torch. The guy was all fired up and said he can have it run until 10pm in line with the rules. I quickly pointed out that he should read the rules properly which he stormed off to do. In five minutes the generator was turned off and he apologised across the darkness of the campsite to us. Peace and quiet returned to the North Rim.

We planned to hike down into the Grand Canyon so we obtained permits from the backcountry office to spend two nights at Cottonwood campground which would also enable us to hike into the Colorado river. So we transformed all of our equipment into overnight hiking mode, loaded up our packs, stashed our bikes away in the woods and took off down the North Kaibab Trail. It was steep from the beginning, used as a mule trail in summer, rocky and dusty it drops quickly through 4,000 feet of elevation passing through several distinctive rock layers that make up the Grand Canyon. The trail hugged sheer cliff walls, crossed bridges and passed roaring springs and waterfalls on the way down to Bright Angel Canyon. Unlike the South Rim, the North Rim is actually a long way back from the Colorado river rarely seen from the viewpoints and as such the hike in is longer and more gradual along the North Kaibab than the South Kaibab trail. From Cottonwood campground we hiked a further 7 miles through the inner canyon to the Colorado and the heart of the Grand Canyon. It was awesome to be there, seeing the green waters of the Colorado rushing by beneath us, rafters floated by into the rapids, turkey vultures soared overheads on the thermals and high above us the red cliffs and walls of the south rim and rock temples. It's an experience to get up close to places by hiking, rather than seeing things from the bike, so we really valued the opportunity to be able to hike down into the largest canyon in the world and to spend two nights camping below the rim. Back at the North Rim we camped overlooking 'the transept', and watched the sun set over the vast canyon, the colours changed from orange to purple to blue.

We said our farewells to Wayne back at Jacob Lake, he would head around to the South Rim of the Grand Canyon then south to Phoenix, whilst we were headed west back towards Las Vegas via Zion NP again.

This time through Zion we spent longer in the eastern end of the park and did some exploring and short walks up into slot canyons, across striped checkerboard rock walls, up slickrock slopes, and across layered pink and red sandstone dunes, while most people in cars rushed on past missing the beauty of the place. Once again on the park roads, people drove extremely fast, overtaking us on blind corners through cut out sections of road, 'what's the rush?' we think. We are amazed at how people drive here, i mean it's a National Park to protect the wildlife and plants of the region and people are tearing around at great speeds. Most just want to be able to drive everywhere to the sights so they can see it all in as little time as possible and the parks have been created that way. There was even a sign at the visitor centre with ideas to how to do 'Zion in less than three hours', which sums up the mentality of many people we see on the roads. But we enjoyed the place to ourselves on our second run through, a sandstone desert canyon paradise!

This time at the tunnel, we waited less than five minutes for a pick-up to give us a ride through. We sat in the back of the pick-up with our bikes and gear piled in and watched the light disappear as we entered the tunnel, windows of the peaks of Zion flashed by and we glowed red in the brake lights in the dark. We were extremely grateful for the ride, before we launched into the downhill through an array of switchbacks and sweeping corners, heads arched to the sky taking in the mountain top views, down into the Zion Canyon and to the Watchmen campground.

We stayed with a friendly family (whom we met on the North Rim) in St George on eve of thanksgiving, but with an tempting invite to stay for the feast and to meet the whole extended family, we felt the urge to keep moving to Las Vegas. We still had to climb one last pass in Utah at 4,400 feet over 'Utah Hill' to avoid a dangerous section of the I-17 intersate through the Virgin River Gorge, so in steady rain we climbed up to the summit. There, it felt like the earth rotated in our favour and tipped us into a 45 minute, 15 mile downhill descent into the desert and Arizona. Our hands were frozen in the rain, as we pedalled to stay warm. A funny way to leave Utah and to enter the Mojave Desert we thought, under grey skies, and pouring rain. Large Joshua Tree forests covered the silhouetted hillsides some burnt and some green and the desert soil smelt so good. Another flat tyre for Anna, her fourth in four days made it a rush against time to get to Mesquite before dark but we made it. Soaked and cold in Nevada, large flashing casino signs dominated the evening sky, horrible people chain smoking in bad clothes locked themselves to their pokie machines, and we slept inside in a motel.

We are now in Las Vegas staying with Kevin O'Leary our host from the 'Warm Showers' network. It is an amazing placec to see first hand, the first glimpse of the skyline from the hills on the interstate, the extreme poverty in the northern edges of the city, riding down the Strip fully loaded past wedding chapels, Elvis, casinos, and the endless buffets and excess of food and money. So much to see and enjoy as well as some much needed rest, will fill you in on the details and photos next time around.

From the desert...enjoy

Alister and Anna

The Fuego Project

Moab to Escalante.... Arches, Canyonlands, Capitol Reef and the Grand Staircase

thefuegoproject — Mon, 10 Nov 2008 00:41:00 GMT

It wouldn't be a stay in Moab without hitting the world famous trails and slickrock. We were lucky enough to have some local mtb guides in Nancy and Rachel who took us on an epic ride from the slickrock trail, up the hill nine miles to the Porcupine Rim trail. It was some of the most technical climbing we have ever done, stepping up rock ledges on technical double track but rewarded with awesome views of the red rock pillars of Castle Valley. The descent off the rim was brutal, ranging from rock gardens of red stone angled towards us, sand, fast flowing singletrack, rock drops and 'hike-a-bike' sections more akin to tough hiking trails than mountain biking. Needless to say Nancy and Rachel rode these, while we hiked them. The trail finished by hugging the hillside over technical rocky singletrack overhanging the Colorado River far below us, no room for error, and required a good head for heights.

The crew at the 'guide house' in Moab was extremely kind to us, having us camp out in the backyard for nearly a week, sharing a Halloween party, coffee, good food and some quality 'couch time' movie sessions. It felt like a real break at a comfortable share house, could have been with some friends at home.

After weeks of following their path, in Moab we finally caught up with the Vogels, a family from Idaho with two ten year old boys who are also riding from Alaska to Argentina. We joined John, Nancy, Daryl and Davey for a day trip into Arches NP just out of Moab to explore some of the red rock formations, petrified sand dunes, balancing rocks and of course rock arches. We made it as far into the park as 'the Windows', a series of arches; Turret Arch, Double Arch and the North and South Windows with the La Sal mountains as a backdrop as well as stopping at Park Avenue, Courthouse Towers and the Garden of Eden. It was also a day to share stories, ideas and plans with the Vogels, hearing how they travel with the two boys and some of the challenges they have faced. They are 'home' schooling the boys from the bike which means a pannier full of books, and stops at historical and natural significant places on their journey. It was great to finally meet the family after hearing so many people tell us stories about them.

Leaving Moab we made it as far as Newspaper Rock in an afternoons riding on the busy 191 highway. It has been our least favourite section of road and we had several close calls with vehicles overtaking other vehicles coming towards us, once even forcing us off the road. In the United States, everyone seems to be in a real hurry, with no patience on the road, for slowing down to pass us, or overtaking on blind corners. Not to make anyone at home worry, it just means that we have to be really alert to things happening in front of us and get out of there quickly if we need to. We ended up riding into the dark (with our Niteflux lights on of course!) as the days were getting shorter and we underestimated the hills. After dodging cows in the open range and an hour in the dark we arrived at Newspaper Rock recreation site marked for camping on our maps. In the dark we couldn't find any sign of a campground and ended up wild pitching off the road. In the morning we discovered that camping is not allowed along the river any longer due to a flash flood in 2004. Lucky we didn't know that the night before! But we had felt completely safe there and so sign of storms or rain.

It was still 22 miles into the Needles area of Canyonlands NP from Newspaper Rock so decided to try and hitch into the park to do a day hike. We were extremely lucky and met a group of Germans on a work team-building trip who were happy to give us a ride into the park and to the trailhead of the Chesler Park hike. We walked through red sandstone canyons, through cracks in rock slabs, past cactus, yuccas, gnarled Juniper trees and in between red and pink coloured sandstone hoodoos which are called 'the needles'. We walked a section of trail known as the 'Joint trail', a large crack in the rock just wide enough to walk through and with 20 to 30 feet walls surrounding us. It is an amazing desert landscape with these huge pillars of layered rock all around us and we had one of our best hikes of the trip so far.

Several days later we had ridden from Natural Bridges National Monument deep into canyon country, past large red cliffs of rock, buttes and towers dominated the landscape and we rejoined the Colorado river where it flows into the dammed Lake Powell. This is one of the most vast and desolate landscapes we have ever seen, no trees, just red rock as far as the eye can see and some dark storm clouds were brewing above.

Camped at Dirty Devil river in Glen Canyon on an exposed sandstone ledge, a storm buffeted our tent with strong waves of wind and rain meaning a rather sleepless night. By morning it seemed the storm had passed as we climbed a 10 per cent grade hill cut into the red canyon wall we thought that would be the hardest part of the day. We climbed through the wind tunnel of the north grand wash canyon, winds gusting through the side canyons rustled the golden leaves of the Cottonwoods. As soon as we climbed out of the canyon the winds just got stronger in our faces. With views of the snow dusted Henry mountains in the distance, orange-red sandstone formations in the foreground and strong headwinds, Anna shed a tear. What started out as a great day in amazing scenery quickly turned into a painful and testing day both physically and mentally. As we climbed our average speed into the wind ranged from 3 – 4 miles per hour with the mile posts moving by every 15 to 20 minutes, 24, 23, 22.... The winds got worse, slowing our speed to below 3 mph, and blowing sand off the desert dunes into our eyes and teeth. Strong gusts blasted our bikes sideways, and we ended up on the side of the road. 'This is hopeless' I thought and started walking my bike along the edge of the ride for half a mile, unable to ride on. I turned around and Anna was walking her bike as well.

At milepost 16 I did the maths, 'its 3pm now so thats at least three more hours if we keep pedalling and no more breaks...mmm'. I was determined, or too stubborn to not concede to the elements. At milepost 15 I stopped and Anna caught up. I could see she was broken by the relentless 20 – 30 mph winds. She was close to tears and expressed the feelings I was experiencing but not wanting to show. She said ' the next pick-up, I am going to try and hitch a ride!'. This time I didn't object at all, I was broken too, I just didn't want to admit it. Just like that a white pick-up truck appeared on the horizon and then stopped for us. George agreed to give us a lift the last fifteen miles to Hanksville. 'Sick of riding into the wind today?' he asked. 'Yep' we both reply, ' this is the first lift we have accepted in over 5,000 miles, if that tells you how bad the wind was'. We loaded our bikes into the back, and before we knew it we were in Hanksville, a dodgy motel out of the wind, even worse deep fried food, but very happy that the day was over and no regrets about accepting a ride. It's all part of the journey to recognise our own limits and to know the time to give into ego and respect what the elements throw at us.

After the winds of the previous day we were extremely happy with a pleasant day of riding up the Fremont River valley towards Capitol Reef NP. Out of Hanksville, grey sandy buttes (flat topped hills) gave way to the waterpocket fold of Capitol Reef with large sandstone domes, red and white cliffs, ancient Fremont petroglyphs in the valley walls (carvings of bighorn sheep and mythical human figures) and historical orchards, schoolhouses and buildings from the early Mormon pioneers. We met up with Adrian, a Swiss man we had met hiking previously at the Needles in Canyonlands NP. He is extremely enthusiastic about all of the parks in Utah and takes us to viewpoints, joins us on a hike and drives us to the Capitol Gorge scenic drive and gorge hike.

Leaving Capitol Reef we had a big climb ahead of us over Boulder mountain pass at 9,600 feet our highest pass of the trip so far. It took us the best part of a day to climb the 4,000 feet over 35 miles up into Ponderosa Pines, Quaking Aspens and meadows and creeks of the mountain forests in Dixie National Forest to the summit. It was such a contrast up there in the higher elevations of Utah among tall trees after coming from the lower elevation desert country where the trees are short and stunted and cactus and grasses rule the drier country. In Utah they don't believe in gentle grades, our hardest hills have all been here. So after all that climbing, it was then a 45 minute steep downhill to Boulder for 15 miles, large sweeping corners, wild turkeys off the road, back into the Juniper and Pinyon Pines. We were freezing by the time we reached the bottom. We ended up camping in an apple orchard out the back of a small motel thanks to the friendly owner, with mule deer feeding on the fallen apples through the night.'The best camping in Boulder is right here in the orchard' he claimed. We agreed. Once again grateful for the generosity so many people have shown us.

From Boulder we entered the vast Grand Staircase Escalante National Monument, a series of creek carved canyons and rock layers from different geological timeframes exposed as cliffs that roll down to the north rim of the Grand Canyon. The 'Hog's back', is a narrow winding road following a ridgeline with drops either side down into canyons carved into sandstone. It was an amazing descent deep into the Escalante river valley with the cliffs of the Grand Staircase on the horizon. After some more switchback climbs back out of the valley we made it to Escalante by lunchtime with an ominous looking storm coming towards us from the mountains. With the storm outlook for the next two days we decided to put the feet up for some rest in Escalante in some cabins at Escalante Outfitters. Dennis and Dena our hosts fed us good coffee and great eggs. Once again we are on the very edge of the shoulder season, campgrounds are closed, cafes are closed, and in fact the cabins will be closed in a few days for the winter. Just scraped in!

Today the sun is shining and wind barely blowing...a perfect day for cycling really and we can't help but feel like we are missing a window of opportunity to get to Bryce Canyon, but we also need rest, laundry, and bike maintenance. So we enjoy the sun, get greasy hands, eat plenty and prepare for the climb to Bryce.

Enjoy

Alister and Anna

The Fuego Project

Wyoming to Utah: the Flaming gorge, Fruita singletrack and Moab

thefuegoproject — Sat, 25 Oct 2008 17:39:00 GMT

After the snowstorm passed, we left Jackson WY on a sunny but cold afternoon. We pushed untill after sunset, and found ourselves on a high plateau, the Green River Basin, the sagebrush covered in a thick blanket of snow.

The temperature overnight dropped to 15 F (-10 C), too cold to stay outside and cook dinner. Ali scraped snow of the table to boil for a quick soup. Luckily our sleeping gear really showed it's value, and we were warm inside. The next morning we lingered inside untill the first rays of sun hit the tent, warming our bodies and souls. Outside a quiet world of white, with footprints of coyote and Pronghorn antelope that had roamed nearby at night.

Just off this plateau starts the Green River. The Green River flows through the Flaming gorge in southern Wyoming, and streams into the Colorado River in Utah, and we followed the general route of this waterway.
The Flaming Gorge has some side roads, and we cycled up the Sheep Creek Canyon, an amazing geologist mecca. Millions of years ago the crust of the earth was moved upwards to form a mountain range called the Uinta's. The sides of this range sort of cracked and the layers of earth that were once horizontal are now vertical. In the canyon you can see these different layers side by side. High pilars of sandstone, footprints of dinosaurs, fossillized sanddunes, petrified trees, remains of worlds ancient from our time, but also from one another, here visible close together.

At the bottom of the gorge the elk and deer hunting season has begun. Hunters have parked their SUV's and trailers right next to the road, and we see them walk trough the bushes, guns at their side, bright orange caps and jackets over their camouflage gear, so they won't accidentally shoot oneanother. It makes us feel sick to see the bloody heads and antlers dangling over the back of their cars. The thought that they will be stuffed and hung on the wall of someones house or a restaurant, like empty shells of a once beautiful animal, makes us angry, and we detest this useless destruction. The presense of hunters makes the roads feel far less safe than we are used to.
One night two of these hunters are driving their ATV's on trails close to our tent. I am scared they might hit us, but it turns out they are more scared of us.... We hear the them talking: "I don't know man, but that sure looks like a UFO to me!"and they take off. Since we have our torches on, the tent looks greenishly illuminated from outside!

It's an interesting time to be in the USA, the elections now only two weeks away. We are in republican country, and see McCain/ Palin boards in gardens, on cars, even at campgrounds.

We hit the western side of Colorado, and ride over Douglas Pass, one of the hardest of the trip so far, 40 miles uphill, the last 3 miles take an hour. Then down to Fruita, MTB sister city of Melrose, SA.
In Fruita we are welcomed by the friendly staff of Over the Edge Sports, and rent two mountainbikes for a day on singletrack. The day puts a grin on our face from one ear to the other; fast flowing trails in the desert foothills, redrock in the backdrop, cactus lining narrow ridges. It's almost too hard to describe this day with words, the pictures will tell more.

From Fruita it is a short two days to Moab. The landscape changes from open desert to a deep canyon, the Colorado river at our side. Eroded rock has created pilars and formations to the eye almost beyond the logic of gravity.

Moab is the (debated) worlds MTB capital, and we are staying with some friends for a few days to try the famous Slickrock trail, and check out some National Parks nearby.

Missoula to Jackson...Big Hole, pronghorn, Yellowstone and the Tetons

thefuegoproject — Fri, 10 Oct 2008 17:57:00 GMT

With fresh inspiration for the journey ahead we followed the Trans-America trail south along the Bitteroot valley before crossing over a range to the east at Lost Trail Pass and into the Big Hole Valley. This was the same route the Adventure Cycling Association took across the states in the summer of 76' in their inaugural Trans-American bike journey.

On the ten mile downhill from Chief Joseph Pass my Bob trailer wheel started squeaking before eventually it gave a loud 'crunch' and i ground to an abrupt halt. I saw my trailer wheel spin past me at 25mph...'quick Anna, catch it..!' which she did. The bearings were smashed on one side of the wheel. After some unsuccessful roadside bearing repairs I limped off with a very wobbly trailer wheel...'only ten miles to Wisdom' i thought.

Just fifty metres down the road we spotted a yearling moose calf in the willow thickets. We wondered where mum might be (cow moose are extremely dangerous protecting their young), when Anna discovered mum dead in the ditch, an obvious roadkill and a large bear scat next to it on the road. Not the best place to have spent an hour trying to repair the wheel bearings! We pondered the fate of the yearling moose without mum for the winter ahead.

We stopped off at the Big Hole Battlefield National Monument, the site of a battle between the US army and the non-treaty Nez Perce Indians in 1877. A tragic story of the displacement of native people in north america, the brutal loss of indian women and children and then the strength of these people to fight back and hold the army at siege.

As we came down off the range into the Big Hole Valley the landscape changed dramatically. It was dry and golden in the afternoon sun with sagebrush plains, big skies, pronghorn antelope roaming freely and fields of black cattle. The pronghorn is the only one of 14 species of its family (antelopes) that evolved in North America to have survived the arrival of humans on the northern american landscape. They can exceed 55mph (85km/ph)and migrate huge distances from their summer ranges here in Montana. The pronghorn like bison once numbered in the tens of millions, but by the turn of the 19th century they were less than 20,000. We saw many herds of pronghorn on the open prairies with one male having a harem of forty females to keep him busy.

In Wisdom (a town named after one of the three rivers Wisdom, Philosophy and Philanthropy, which were named by Lewis and Clark on their Corps of Discovery expedition for Thomas Jefferson's three virtues) we woke up once again to a frozen tent, bikes and water and soon discovered that this valley holds the record for the coldest recorded temperature in North America (excluding Alaska) of -60 f. Wisdom, population 103 surpisingly didn't have a bike shop, so we managed to hitch in a 1956 Chevy 'Bel Air' 70 miles to Butte to try to get the bearings fixed. Eventually we got a ride another 25 miles to Anaconda with Nathan from the bike shop where Pete at Sven's Cycles generously sold me his wheel for $10 (far cheaper than the wheel would cost), but that is all he wanted for it! So with some luck, some great generosity, and friendly bike mechanics, we hitched back to Wisdom with a friendly group of locals on their way to a wedding, with a new Bob wheel and only $10 lighter in the pocket. Thanks to everyone who picked us up, helped us, and shared a part of their day with us(you know who you are), we wouldn't have got back on the road without you.

Arriving in Yellowstone NP was another milestone for us. Yellowstone was the first proclaimed National Park in the United States and home to geysers, hot springs, other amazing geothermal features and wild herds of bison. We based ourselves at Madison campground for several nights (as most of the other campgrounds have already closed for winter) and explored the Norris geyser basin and the Fire-hole valley geyser basins including 'Old Faithful' geyser. The most impressive was the Porcelain basin at Norris with steam vents blasting steam and sulphur into the air, bubbling hot springs and colourful algae and bacterial communities colouring the runoff from green to yellow to rusty red.

The elk were in the middle of their rutt (males competing for breeding rights)so at night we heard bugling males with their haunting calls echoing through the forest. At Fire-hole valley we saw large herds of bison feeding in the open plains and dusting themselves in dust bowls. We were in awe of these amazing creatures so close, the young calves, and the big bulls. We could only imagine the plains of North America filled with millions of these stampeding creatures supporting an amazingly diverse indigenous culture long before the white man arrived.

The two Belgians we had met at Glacier NP, Thomas and Colin rolled into the biker camping area at Madison campground, so we shared a fire and decided to travel with them for the rest of the ride down to Jackson. The roads were still surprisingly busy and we rode 78 miles in the rain through the park to Lewis lake campground, passing more large herds of bison, the Grand Canyon of Yellowstone and Yellowstone lake. Our biggest day of the trip so far, it was mostly uphill crossing the continental divide for the last time, and in the process clocked up 4,000 miles for the trip so far, so a day of big milestones.

We awoke to snow and freezing conditions at Lewis Lake, so made a quick escape down out of the park. The conditions improved once we had descended down to Grand Teton NP and we had amazing views of the Tetons with vivid autumn colours of the aspen, alder and cottonwood trees on the lake and hillsides. The four of us hiked up the Cascade Canyon trail to Solitude lake on a clear but windy day. The autumn colours were spectacular along this glacially carved canyon, rocky mountain peaks and alpine moraine lake. We nearly came head-to-head with two male moose on the trail back down. Luckily they stepped off the trail and crossed the creek into the willow thickets. Amazing to see them so close with their huge racks of antlers.

So we arrived in Jackson yesterday and booked into a motel for four days for some needed rest and relaxation...not to mention the forecast for snow for the next three days! Today, it is snowing pretty well . Another reminder to keep moving south fairly swiftly. The Canada geese can't all be wrong flying overhead to the south! Winter is nipping at our heels...4,100 miles on the clock for the Fuego Project so far.

happy pedalling and snowflakes from the north, enjoy.

Alister and Anna

Banff to Missoula...the great north parks and big sky country

thefuegoproject — Wed, 24 Sep 2008 17:40:00 GMT

After a chilly week tent bound with the flu in Banff, and spending time with friends, it was time for us to hit the road again with winter nipping at our heels and a lot of mountains between us and the desert country. As soon as we left Banff along the Bow Valley Parkway the sun began to shine and warmed our spirits. A little weary from the flu, it took several days to find our strength again. We followed highway 93 down the Kootenay river valley, through the Kootenay National Park, crossing the continental divide, passing through glacial river valleys and large burnt out hillsides of pines from fires in the 90's and this decade. We awoke to frozen tents, and water at Vermillon crossing, so while the days were sunny, the nights well below zero degrees celsius. A major climb over Sinclair pass then downhill off the mountains all the way to Radium Hot Springs where we soaked our weary legs...the best way yet to end a day of hard cycling! We met two cyclists, John and Eli, biking from Kodiak Alaska to Jackson Wyoming, so we shared a campspot and stories with these guys before they powered on the next day.

The change from Canada back into the States at Roosville Montana was quite dramatic, big open skies, golden fields, ranches, red barns, big pick up trucks and cowboys! All of a sudden we didnt feel so comfortable just in cycling knicks walking into a shop with 'Budweiser - hunters welcome' out front and leather cowboy boots the norm...so out came the over shorts!

We decided to take a detour into Glacier National Park to ride the going-to-the-sun road to Logan Pass and maybe a rest day off the bikes while the sun was still shining and the skies blue. Unfortunately we were a day late with road works blocking the road from West Glacier to Logan Pass and a two day detour around the eastern end of the park not really an option. As a alternative we decided to head to the mountains for a day hike up to Sperry Glacier trail...a lazy 18 mile return trip with an elevation gain of 4,500 feet! The reward was in the last few miles where high up above the tree line we walked across red and green rock scree slopes, over waterfalls fed by glacial streams, views of carved rock faces, alpine meadows, hoary marmots whistling from the boulders and then a group of five mountain goats on the trail. They didn't move for us, this was their domain. So we shared a few moments with them in their mountain paradise and began our descent. One mountain goat stood high above us on a rock, they truly are the kings of that mountain kingdom.

At Glacier NP we also met up with Thomas and Colin from Belgium, they were one day into a year long bike trip from Whitefish Montana to Bolivia. We were inspired by their enthusiasm and excitement heading out on a big trip, and shared with them stories of the road, fellow cyclists and the usual map dreaming.

Finally the blue skies broke and we rode through drizzling cold rain through the Swan Valley. After entering the Laughing Horse Lodge dripping wet, we warmed by the fire and enjoyed hot coffee and a cooked 'second breakfast' (something we have learnt from fellow cyclists Ken and Neill). A friendly local couple shared a story of a motorbike trip through South America, and must have felt sorry for us pedalling on in the rain and paid our bill while leaving without us knowing. This was a generous gesture that summed up the hospitality we have received on the road especially in Montana.

Missoula MT was our next destination to visit the Adventure Cycling Association (ACA) office and plan our journey to Jackson WY. A huge storm dumped down rain (the heaviest of the trip so far) as we rolled into Missoula. So with an already wet tent, we found the first motel we could in the downpour 'the Ponderosa' and checked in after a month in the tent. Red plush carpet, with our tent set up inside we dried all of our gear and dropped pine needles everywhere.

At the ACA we met Greg Siple, one of the founders of the organisation and also the first (along with his wife) to ride their bikes from Alaska to Tierra Del Fuego in Argentina in 1973-74. He showed us around the ACA offices: a shrine to bicycle touring with old touring bikes hung on the walls, black and white portraits of bike tourists from the 70's, 80's and 90's, walls of maps and routes through the US, a library of bike related matter and a bunch of dedicated staff committed to getting more people touring the country on bikes. Greg showed us his special collection of black and whites from that original north to south expedition from Bolivia, Peru, Chile and Alaska. He asked us to return the next day with our loaded bikes to take black and white photos of us to add to his portrait collection, which we did and we feel privileged to become part of that collection.

After meeting Greg we feel even more inspired to complete the journey to Argentina, and he makes us feel like it is achievable, that we should follow our dream and we are not the only crazy ones who believe in this journey. The next step however will be Jackson in Wyoming where we will leave the rocky mountains.

happy pedalling, blue skies ahead

from the fuego team

Alister and Anna

Sea to Sky Highway, Icefields Parkway and the Dave Matthews Band

thefuegoproject — Sat, 6 Sep 2008 18:04:00 GMT

We said goodbye to Vancouver in style, cruising the harbor with Tas (Ali's former housemate) and Scarlett in their little yacht.

It suddenly turned really hot for a few days, and we sweated our way up the Sea to Sky highway, from Vancouver to Squamish and onwards to Whistler.

Squamish is known for the Chief, a huge monolith (rock), and very popular amongst rockclimbers. A whole different crowd from cyclists, climbers are, and we were amused and also intimidated a little by the crashpads, ropes, shoes, carabiners etc. We just kept things simple, and walked up the Chief via a hiking trail, still challenging and the muscle aches reminded us of the climb for another few days.

Then onwards and upwards, on the narrow, winding road and with more or less continuous construction sites. Sometimes the drop off the shoulder would be over a foot, and we had to take care not to get too close to either that drop or the thousands of cars making their way to Whistler.

The reason for this influx to Whistler was Crankworx, an anual downhill and slopestyle mountainbike event. Picture a luxurious French ski resort (without the snow), a big hill with a jumpspark and downhill track, a 25000 people crowd, and some of the best downhillers/ slopestylers in the world. We were thrilled watching the slopestyle, where young guys flip and toss their bike into seamingly impossible acrobatic manouvres, always landing back on two wheels (almost always...).

We were lucky to be invited by friends of Marty, and camped on their deck for some nights. Good to hear their stories about riding, skiing, hiking, music, travelling and the black bear that had visited their kitchen recently. Sietse organised for us to go on a Ziptrek tour, an exhilarating and beautiful way to see the rainforest from above, zipping at high speed in a harness from tree to tree.

Then one enormous bustrip brought us from Whistler to Jasper, in the Rocky Mountains. We're kind of fighting our way against the seasons, the days already shortening, and as we learned in the past 2 weeks, the cold and snow kicking in.

The Icefields Parkway, also named one of the most beautiful roads in the world, runs about 230 kms from Jasper to Lake Louise. It passes 8 Icefields with some 23 glaciers. And beautiful it was. Little sidetrips brought us to small lakes with colours turquoois and emerald, glaciers hanging of mountains and waterfalls gushing through gorges. On a walk up a pass we saw bighorned sheep smacking their horns together with a loud "bang". We also had our first snow since Alaska, first wet, than dry, leaving the slopes with a thin white blanket.

We met Ken and Neill, two friendly American cyclists in their fifties, who inspired us with their enthousiastic ways, mixing vodka and gatorade powder for real deal camp cocktails, and with a good outlook on life, friendship and hardship.

Between all these mountainous adventures we indulged ourselves into a 4 day cartrip to Washington State, to see our favourite band, The Dave Matthews Band play at The Gorge. It was mindblowing to see them, playing in this natural amphitheater set against the Columbia River Gorge. A sad but intense concert, for their saxophonist passed away recently.

So it is cold, and we've both caught a decent flew, keeping us in our tent for almost a week. Lucky it's snug and warm inside. But it also makes us ponder if the route we're taking is possible and more so, safe and fun. For now we're trying to regain our strenght, and continue down to the USA border.

Lots of love

Anna and Ali

Vancouver Island, the wild pacific coast and the city

thefuegoproject — Wed, 13 Aug 2008 18:34:00 GMT

After the gas leak in Prince Rupert we were eventually moved to 'emergency' accomodation at midnight which meant a not so long sleep before an early morning ferry on our way to Vancouver Island. Tired heads we slept pretty well then i woke at 7am...aahhh! we had slept through our alarm and the wake up call from the hotel never came...calm down, we can still make the 7:30am boat. Moments from leaving the bed we were all on our bikes powering to the ferry. We scraped on board with 10 minutes to spare and a warm reception from the passenger deck, as we were the only ones holding the boat up as we rode down the ramp (thanks Jeroen and Arda for stopping the ramp from being lifted!).

So we made it, and after a coffee or two the nerves eased and we sat back and enjoyed a sunny day through the inside passage to Port Hardy. Sheer cliffs of black rock, waterfalls plunging into the ocean and humpback whales surfacing occasionally near the boat with sprays of water followed by their rolling bodies and tails. Good times spent with a dutch family, keeping the kids busy, sleeping, cards, enjoying the sun and watching for whales before a late night arrival in Port Hardy on Vancouver Island.

We took nine days to ride the length of 'the island', 600 km in all from the north with its beautiful forested hills and high lakes and rivers, forestry scarred hills and log trucks to the busy south of the island with dual lane highways, RV parks, busy coastal roads and people everywhere. I guess from our time starting in Alaska we had been spoiled with open space and wilderness and now in peak summer holiday time we had hit civilisation on Vancouver Island. This took a little while to adjust to as we longed for the quiet roads, quiet camp spots and unscarred natural beauty. Two of the best spots we discovered were Alert Bay in the north and Salt Spring Island in the south as we ferry hopped across to Sidney and the end of our ride south. Alert Bay is a first nations village where the U'mista Cultural Centre is which houses one of the largest collections of masks used in the Potlatch which had been confiscated by the Canadian government now rightfully returned. A moving place, and more sad stories of the destruction of indigenous culture in this part of the world.

Arnout, Anna's brother had joined us for this part of the trip and we enjoyed his enthusiasm, laughter, exercise regime (which he unsuccessfully passed on to us) and fresh perspective on the journey and the people we meet along the way. We introduced him to mountain biking on the rooty, technical singletrack of Cumberland which he loved and passed the test. As we struggled a little with the busy roads, lack of beautiful camp spots and peoples well-intentioned but highly annoying comments on the weight of our bikes, he kept us focussed and turned it all into a positive experience...thanks Ar!

We then met up with Dad and Joan in Sidney, Vancouver Island a day later than planned (Hazeldine planning for you...we share the blame) for some down time from the bikes and to explore the west coast, Victoria and Strathcona region of the island...did i mention rest as well. We have enjoyed the family time and catch-ups from back home. Explored the culture of Victoria, spent time on the west coast with ocean walks on the pacific rim, a short kayak trip, then some forest walks in Strathcona and time around Campbell River.

We have just enjoyed a couple of days around Vancouver, a beautiful city full of contrasts, the mountain backdrop, the ocean lapping at its feet, contruction everywhere, the rich and the extremely poor and homeless and then Stanley Park, a huge park near the heart of the city which we rode our bikes around the seawall. So after some good value family time, and a stint off the bike, Dad and Joan are heading up the inside passage to Alaska and we will be heading from the sea to the sky up to Whistler for Crankworx (a free ride mtb festival) and then onto Jasper in the rockies.

So we feel that our first phase of the trip has come to an end from Alaska to Vancouver...which then opens another page for the second phase of the Fuego Project which will be the rockies south into the deserts of north america.

Life is good, blue skies, enjoy the journey...

Love from the north

Alister and Anna

the Fuego Project

Inside Passage Alaska

thefuegoproject — Mon, 21 Jul 2008 23:21:00 GMT

The Alaska Marine Highway ferry has a special on this summer, the 'see Alaska pass', which enables us to hop on and off at different ports along the Inside Passage. The Inside Passage is a waterway secluded from the Pacific by Islands, and therefore has calm waters, and a very wet climate. Arnout, Anna's brother flies in to Juneau, Alaska's capital to join us for a few weeks.

To celebrate his arrival we decide to have an easy day in the luxury of a backpackers hostel. But after a restless first night amongst snoring co-travellers in the bunks of YHA, with annoying rules like the rule you can't stay there during the day, we set up camp at Mendenhall glacier. We walk up both the East and West glacier trails, to see the glacier mouth from close up. Big cracks in the ice and the intense blue are an amazing sight.

In the past weeks we have become a bit complacent storing our food and cooking wear at night, and we are taught a lesson one morning when all our pots, stoves and food is gone from the toiletblock where we had left it 'safe from the bears'. We find it back behind the window of a van, a pool of vomit under the door warns of the drinking habits of the person inside. Initially he doesn't seem to agree these are our bags, but then tells us he was protecting our stuff from bad people.... We have to be more vigilant and hang our things in the woods again.

On the ferry down to Petersburg we are welcomed by over 25 humpback whales, blowing and breaching in the distance.
Petersburg is an old Norwegian settlement. From here we do a kayaktour into the LeConte glacier arm. It's an amazing day, being surrounded by icebergs, vertical rock slopes, waterfalls, and the glacier itself, calving icebergs into the sea with a loud rumble. On the way back a pod of orcas swim around the boat. A day couldn't be more perfect.

We sailed out to Prince Rupert yesterday, and were hoping to enjoy some peace in a hostel, only to be sent away on the streets today, because a gasline was hit just in front of the house. We have been outdoors all day, our tummies are starting to complain, but the police won't let us in. We seem to have no luck with these rest days in hostels. Well, tomorrow we'd better get on those bikes again.

Love

Anna and Ali

Alcan to the South East...cycling companions

thefuegoproject — Fri, 11 Jul 2008 22:07:00 GMT

It was a bit hard to leave Fairbanks. We had been welcomed so warmly and had a wonderful time under the wings of Dan and Lisa in their logcabin. During the summer solstice weekend we enjoyed a 2-day hike on the Pinnell Mountain trail together with them, Pat and Jeremy. The first day gave clear and far views over hills, small herds of caribou, hoary marmots 'whistling' from rocky outcrops, colourful white, pink, yellow, purple and blue alpine flowers and a never setting sun. The second day became a bit of a challenge, when a big thunderstorm passed over the ridges we were to walk. We could see lightning close to the ridgeline, but circumnavigating the higher regions kept us clear, and made for a cool walk. On our last night, Dan and Lisa organised a BBQ at their place, and we met some of their friends with interesting backgrounds and admirable lifestyles.

Not long after we left we met Richard, a cyclist from Fryslan, with whom we rode for 4 days. It was inspiring to cycle with a likeminded companion, and interesting to share our different styles in riding and camping. Richard enjoyed our sometimes lengthy lunches, relaxing in the sun with fresh fruit and veg, his stong pedal stroke and 'dig into it' way pulled us through some long days; sharing stories, music and laughter made the days fly by.

Our ways parted in Tok, where we continued east, to the Canadian border. The hills a bit steadier, but we felt stronger after trying to chase Richard up the hills, and tried to keep up our 'Richard style'!

After crossing the Yukon border, the scenery changed, with snowpeaked mountains on either side of the road for the following ten days riding. We finally met our long sought outdoor friend, the bear. In two days time we saw two grizzlies and two black bears, all right next to the road. We were both in awe of especially the latter, with its beautiful coat shining like black silk in the sun. They didn't seem to mind us too much, just looked up when we passed and then continued eating grass or berries. More so than the 'real thing', we saw their poo, in generous amounts piled upon the road, black, green and brown.

Besides bears, we saw hundreds of RV's (recreational vehicles or campervans), some come small, most come large. We're talking RV's the size of a touring bus, and then still with a trailer or 4WD towed behind it. We sometimes cannot but feel irritated by the these excessive modes of transport, especially when the passengers sympathise at rest-stops and say "jee, you look like you're weighed down on those bicycles".

On the Alcan, many many services have closed in recent years, and due to our vintage handbook and milepost (a travel guide), we suddenly found ourselves out of food. A very generous couple, Dave and Janice, provided us with mueslibars and lunch, and in one big day we made it to Haines Junction.

In Haines Junction we turned South on the Haines Highway, and rode uphill into a straight headwind for three days. This made for both a physical and mental challenge, the pedal stroke heavy and the continuous sound of wind making it seem stronger than it really is. But again, the scenery made up for it, our last time on alpine tundra.

After the Chilkat pass it was all down, 18 km of sheer riding bliss. Suddenly all life seemed to be on steroids, the trees huge, the pink fireweed tall, beautiful bald eagles soaring the skies. The sight of a moose crossing the road with twin calves made our day.

In Haines, a beautiful village perched in a fjord, we took a few days much needed rest. Camped just beside the sea, we enjoyed the company of some fellow cyclists, river/ mouintain guides and homeless people, an interesting mix.

Eric from Colorado brightened up the day and accompanied us on a walk up Mt Riley. He's a history teacher and really passionate about life, politics, the war, firearms, nature, music, cycling and many more things. We learn and sponge up his stories.

So really, these weeks have not just been about the ride, but about seeing, listening and talking to people, some like-minded, some not. It's fun to see what feelings others bring about in oneself.

Now we are in Juneau, the capital of Alaska. Last night Arnout has joined us and for the next three weeks we will be descending the Inside Passage to Vancouver Island.

Love from the north

Anna and Ali

Dalton Highway...from the arctic to interior

thefuegoproject — Thu, 19 Jun 2008 23:10:00 GMT

‘The Dalton Highway, you can’t ride your bike on the Dalton…you’re crazy, you’ll be eaten by Grizzlies, smashed to pieces by flying rocks the size of golf balls, driven off the road, you’ll freeze to death…and you’ll need at least five spare tyres after the other four are shredded to pieces by razor sharp rocks’. These were the kind words of advice most Alaskans gave us when we told them of our plans. But not to be easily deterred, after an intense sixteen hour bus trip up the Haul Road (as it’s affectionately known), and a night spent camping on the frozen tundra outside of Deadhorse, we realised our dream to ride from the northern most road in Alaska near the Arctic Ocean south, all the way south.

Once we escaped the dreary, depressing landscape of Deadhorse and the oilfields, work camps and machinery, we felt uplifted and with the wind at our backs started the gradual climb up the North Slope. The coastal fog disappeared fifteen miles from Deadhorse and we joined the large pipeline that would be our companion for the rest of the trip to Fairbanks, and the reason this road north to the arctic North Slope was built.

The coastal plain was full of small lakes, which over summer provides homes to thousands of migrating birds. Canada geese flew overhead calling loudly, jaegers danced in the sky, ducks flew startled from their wetland homes and arctic loons impressed us with their calls and beautiful plumage. We saw a pair of muskoxen from the road (a prehistoric looking bovine) and small groups of caribou grazing the tundra. We even saw a moose cow and her very young calf in a small willow lined creek.

The dirt road was in good condition and gradually climbed the North Slope following the Sagavanirktok (or Sag) River with a few steep up and downs. One of our biggest concerns was the fast driving heavy trucks that the ‘Haul Road’ was built for, to support the oil fields and their supply of machinery, gas and food to the work camps. In reality they slowed right down to pass us, gave us plenty of room, and we would also slow right down and pull off the road. Then with some enthusiastic waving from both parties they would be on their way. This is their living, and their road, and they know how dangerous flying rocks can be, so they just want everyone to be safe.

Climbing up and over the Atigun pass at 4,739 feet was amazing as the mountains rose up to meet the winding dirt road. We felt incredibly small riding our bikes looking up at walls of snow and avalanche chutes, snow capped mountains all around, Dall Sheep grazing the high rocky slopes, then seeing bent and damaged guard-rails from previous avalanches and trucks powering up the hill. The ride off the pass was an exhilarating downhill, chasing those same trucks, trying hard not to take our eyes off the road for the scenery.

The last half of the Dalton Highway proved to be harder than the first with steeper hills and much longer climbs, with names like ‘Beaver Slide’, ‘Finger Mountain’ and ‘Gobbler’s Knob’ which challenged our legs, heads and our loaded bikes. The bugs and mosquitoes also came out ‘en force’ in the warmer conditions, forcing us to resort to bug nets and DEET repellent. Storm clouds and thunderstorms threatened regularly in the afternoons, occasionally dropping rain but mostly just adding to the oppressive humidity when the sun came out. The funny thing about Alaskan weather, it can be raining hard on you, yet the sun will also be shining, or the wind can be in your face one moment then a strong tail wind the next, or a black storm cloud threatens from above then blows the other direction; it changes from minute to minute.

We free camped throughout the whole trip on gravel pads near rivers or service roads for the pipeline, as they were always dry and close to water. We camped next to glacial rivers, a water trailer (when a storm hit and our bikes were clogged with mud), under mountains, on open tundra, a creek with beavers and in the backyard of a friendly general store.

So for those people who said we couldn’t ride the Dalton, we did it and loved every moment of it. We didn’t see a single bear (let alone were eaten by one!) on the ride although heard plenty of stories from roadworkers of grizzlies chasing moose across the road, and grizzly tracks and carcasses down the river where we camped. The truckies were great value waving and sounding horns, and kept an eye out for us on the road. We didn’t have a single flat tyre (let alone ripped to pieces by rock!) on the Dalton until we hit the sealed road where I had one from glass and then in Fairbanks Anna got some wire through her tyre, twenty minutes from home.

The only hardships we had were ironically from the small things, mosquitoes and water trucks. The mosquitoes kept us tent bound for several nights and chased us on the uphills, up to 9 miles an hour, making for a funny sight, one hand on the steer, the other to slap. The water trucks were the curse of the road turning dry roads into a wet muddy calcium chloride sludge, that stuck to us and our bikes and led to several nights of bike cleaning by the river.

Now we are back in Fairbanks again staying with our Kiwi friends enjoying some days of rest. Then on the weekend we are going on an overnight hike with Dan and Lisa and some of their friends to the Pinnell Mountain trail for the summer solstice, the midnight sun and some Hoary Marmots!

Enjoy!

Love from the north and the land of the midnight sun

Ali and Anna