Day 1-3
So the first small part of the adventure was that the ferry did not start in Seattle, but about 90 miles north, in Bellingham. I guess I contemplated of riding there by bike, but in the end I decided to go up by car – that is for sure. I probably did not take the rather boring Highway 5, but my favourite highway 9 running parallel to it. Anyhow, I got there on time, I still recall arriving close to the port and finding some suitable parking lot for my car – it was to be there for the following two weeks or so.
For this story’s sake, let us say the planned departure was 4 pm – we were asked to be there two hours prior. Check. It was quite a long line of cars waiting for boarding, but there were also quite a lot of foot passengers. At least on that boat I was the only biker.
When boarding started, something strange happened. All the foot passengers started running like crazy, stumping each other and I had no idea what this bash for was, so I followed the crowd and soon understood. It was for the best spots on the aftdeck of the ferry – as camping was allowed and even encouraged! Me, not being shy, managed to occupy quite a good spot, right next to the railing. America is a friendly place (at least it used to be), the next surprise was seeing sailors coming by with huge reels of squish tape. Why? With the help of these, the ropes of the tents were attached to the floor of the deck – preventing the wind (of which there would be quite a lot of) from blowing them over the guardrail, into the water. The mood was a merry one – everyone was chatting, smiling, offering help.
I recall how much sh*t I was carrying – the tent, its poles, the mattress, the sleeping bag, food, water, books, clothes – but soon it all fit my small tent and I was a happy fellow.
It was an interesting mix, my fellow “campers”. There were a few international ones, I recall a German (of course, what else?) girl, but the majority were Americans and Canadians. I soon learned how to tell these two apart, if there was an “ey?” at the end of the sentence (a bit like the Swiss “odr?”), that was Canadian, and if it had a lot of “like, like, like”, that was American. There were a few travellers like me, classic tourists planning to spend a couple of weeks up there, but I recall two groups, who had sold everything somewhere south in the US and had their entire belongings in a large car at the belly of the ship and were looking to start a new life in Alaska. By the way, in my six years in the US, I did meet quite a few families moving from one state to another – as it is witnessed by frequently meeting U-Haul trucks.
“Privileged” was how I felt, having conquered a good spot for my tent, having set it up safely – and was now ready for the sailing to start. And what a sailing it was! So, a little more about the Inside Passage. If you look at the world map, one obvious connection between the state of Washington and Alaska is to sail following the coast on the open ocean. Now there is another option – there is also a sheltered waterway, carved out by glaciers, leading pretty much from the Puget Sound in Washington through British Columbia, reaching Alaska. At times, this waterway is as broad that you can hardly see the land on either side, but usually it looks like you were sailing on an average river. Mind you, though, it is all salt water below you – full of orcas (or killer whales). Talking about orcas – and the friendly crew – they made a point to call out whenever a school of these mammals were coming up for air, the entire pack of passengers running to the side of the boat in question. The orcas were just one highlight, one is surrounded by pristine nature, there are breathtaking fjords, remote villages, lush forests, dramatic cliffs, and charming coastal towns. We also saw bald-headed eagles, deer – someone reported having seen bears.
Talking about bears, that was quite a topic – Alaska is home to tens of thousand of these animals, including grizzlies and black bears. One talking by my expert fellow passengers was how to react if you do meet one. Black bears are rather dumb and aggressive – if you meet one, make sure to look bigger than you actually are, if you are wearing a jacket, raise its sides to have the appearance of Batman and scream as loud as you can – that will make it run off. Grizzlies, on the other side, are not only huge (close to 3 meters when standing and can weigh up to 500 kg), they are also clever – they do not care what action movie you are trying to impersonate, they know they are superior. However, they (usually) would not attack you unless really provoked or protecting its cubs – so if you do meet one, do not look in its eyes, bend your knees and back out slowly.
Well, all this talk did not make me feel better, I assured myself bears are only in the north of Alaska and that I would be riding just along the more populated southern side of the state – nothing to be afraid of. Anyhow, had I met one, I don’t think I’d have been in the state of mind to decide which bear it is that I am seeing, I’d have wet my pants and fainted. By the way, I was told not to try to outrun – or outbike – grizzlies, they can reach speeds up to 60 km/h, despite their huge size – well, at least on short distances. Hmmm, that did make me worry, but I tried to soothe myself – they were not for me, I said.
So there we were, sailing north into the (first) night, as mentioned, not stopping on Canadian waters. At times, the Inside Passage was so narrow we had to slow down to snail’s pace, so that our own wake would not pose a threat. All passengers were utterly enjoying the trip. When it got darker – it was high summer and we were heading up north, so that was late – we took deck chairs and formed a circle, each of us telling stories of our reasons for heading up to Alaska, what to expect there and other travel stories. The only thing that was missing was a fire in the middle – well, many things were allowed on the boat, making fire wasn’t one of them.
The weather was kind to us – so this summer of 2004 was an unusually warm one, more words about this later. Yes, on the boat it was windy, but wearing a wind jacket would suffice to make you feel comfortable. I was lucky to have sunshine for most of the trip – at least this is what I recall.
One notable thing as we were sailing north was that the sun settled considerably later than on the first evening, it was around 10:30 pm by the time it got dark. The distance between Bellingham and Ketchikan is about 1,000 kilometers – and we needed some 40 hours to reach that town. Sometimes the following morning, we reached the town. I packed my things, bid my emotional good-bye’s to the fellow passengers and the friendly crew and disembarked. I did tell the sailors I might come back, I had plenty of time, the ferry docked there for a couple of hours.
I started riding around, but was not compelled to stay. While the weather generally is nice, here it was drizzling – later I learned it is referred to as the Rain Capital of Alaska. Even worse, I was on an island, so while I could ride around for a while, there were only about 100 kilometers of paved road – what would I do there? I made a quick decision, returned to the boar and bought the ticket to the next stop,
Well, to the amusement of the crew, the above story repeated in the next destination, Wrangell, while having wonderful nature, biking would have been tough there, for the lack of paved roads. Here I made the decision – I will sail north to Haines, which is the very south part of an inlet, from where a road would head up north onto “mainland” Alaska. This did not stop me from exploring the next stop, Petersburg, for the hour or two that the ship was docking.
Junau was the next stop, it is the capital of Alaksa (and no, it’s not Anchorage as many think), we stopped here for a few hours and I made a ride to the edge of a glacier dropping into the sea – I was really impressed.
Along the stops, the ship got lighter and lighter, both cars and passengers disembarking. We called on to the port of Haines at 2 am, this was already my third night on the ferry, well, the third one was rather short. There only like half a dozen cars exited – plus me, in the middle of the night, on my bike. The cars promptly left and so did the ferry and there I was, all by myself, it was pitch dark. The one sign of life was a cop in his car, he came up to me and we had the following conversation:
“Hey, sunny, what are you doing up here?” “Well, I am going biking. But where is the town and is there a hotel there?” “Haines is about 5 miles up that road and yes, there is one hotel, but it’s closed due to renovation” “So where can I sleep” “Ah, you will find a park, there are some benches there, just take care of the drunken sailors” “Well, thank you” “Welcome, and take care of the grizzlies, too” “Grizzlies, down here? I though they are up only in the wilderness” Ha laughed “Yes, but it’s salmon spawning season, they are everywhere” “Oh, I did not know” More laughter “Just make sure you do not startle them, whistle, sing; just make some noise”
And he rode off and now I was really just by myself. I felt my knees getting a bit weak, what am I doing there? I could have stayed in Seattle, some buddies of mine were going down to Oregon for a road trip, why did I not join them? Then I thought I will not let myself be scared at the very first miles of this trip – so I started riding into town, mistaking each bush for a bear. I started singing Hungarian folks songs as loud as I could (I believe it was “lefelé folyik a Tisza”, but no longer sure) and after 20 minutes or so, I reached the sleepy town, also referred to as the “Adventure Capital of Alaska”, with about 1,500 inhabitants. Just to be sure, I found some sailors walking around, they thought I was making a joke asking for a hotel at 3 am. It was not hard to find the park the sheriff had told me and yes, there were park benches. I took out my sleeping bag, made sure to tuck away my valuables as deep as I could and went to sleep.