OFFICIAL WORLD WANDERER STATIONERY

September 7, 1966

Whitehorse, Yukon Canada to Tigard, Oregon

Hello World Wanderer followers.

I'm at home now taking a few days to rest relax, visit, overhaul some parts on the bike and prepare for the final part of the journey. Seems like it's been a long time in coming, finally getting to Tigard, but after a few days here, in many ways seems like I never left. Was it all just a dream? Was I really bicycling around in all those foreign countries? Well I'm not done yet. The starting point was San Diego California, and I've got to get back to the starting point before I can say I'm done. The hardest thing I'm confronted with on this visit to my home town is trying to explain to friends and neighbors that I'm not really back yet, just passing through.

I've been in phone contact with some of the other riders since arriving. I'd sent out word that I'd be here and by a phone. Talked to Ole and Regena. They are already in Crescent City California. They've been riding like demons to try to make the Oct. 1 date in San Diego. And here all this time I thought they were a month behind me, I've been kicking back not too worried about being into San Diego on Oct. 1 figuring it would be closer to Oct. 15. Helen is in town, staying with her sister in Aloha. She's been doing a lot of local sight seeing and waiting for me to arrive so she could find out what

peoples plans are. She has cycled the coast, Vancouver BC to Tijuana Mexico, so isn't feeling that its something she has got to do again, but is very interested in meeting people in San Diego. Regena, and Ole were well positioned to make it to San Diego by Oct. 1, and I thought if I hustled I could get there by that date too, but if something happened to delay me even for a day, I'd probably be late. So out of the tenderness of there hearts they proposed the date be delayed one week to Oct. 8. We made plans to meet at the San Clemente State Park Hiker Biker camping area Oct. 7th, so we can all ride in together to San Diego. Helen indicated she's flexible and that arrangement is okay with her. Plan now is to stay at the down town youth hostel where the whole thing got kicked off. There was a rumor that the hostel has been closed down, but an equally strong rumor that it has got an extension to stay open.

Others still an the road include Michelle who is high tailing for Connecticut, her home.

Jodi traveling with her old friend Bob, who Ole and Regena bumped into in Dawson City, up on the Top of the World Highway. Apparently Bob is a real character. Believing he should be fully equipped for an expedition, he arrived in Anchorage Alaska to meet Jodi with a holster on his bike carrying a shot gun. I understand that it was sent home in his third of forth frenzy to lighten his load. Jodi indicated that she might want to fly out to San Diego for the finale if she can be notified of a "real" date by Sept. 15th so she can get some cheap tickets. Currently she and Bob are heading to either Portland Maine or New York city. Regena has somehow kept in touch with her.

Liz had to fly home for a funereal after her father passed away. She lives in Utah, but was from Texas. Presumably the funeral was in Texas. Don't know if that's the end of the trip for her or not. She wasn't planing to get to San Diego till November some time when I last talked to her in New Zealand.

John and Cynthia Olnes from Alaska for all intensive purposes finished their trip when they arrived back in North America. John was down in the lower 48 visiting siblings and relatives, while Cynthia flew back to their home in Anchorage and entertained other World Wanderers as they passed through.

I bumped into Charles and Lisa while on the Alaska Hwy. Charles wanted to try to make it to San Diego by Oct. 1 for the finale, they actually started their trip in their home state of North Carolina and want to then cycle across the states to arrive home by mid December. They'll have to cycle like banshees to get there I thought. I told them I thought the Oct. 1 date wasn't real any more since I thought Ole and Regina were a month behind me. Little did I know that they were only about a week behind and that they had been hearing all about all the others from other cyclists going north as we moved south. It was my detour over to the ice fields park way that allowed them to jump ahead of me.

As far as I know, nobody has heard from Sally, although everybody's gut feel is that she is still out there somewhere.

Since the last newsletter I wrote outside of Whitehorse, I continued to ride along the Alaska highway to mile post zero in Dawson Creek (not to be confused with Dawson City which is up north in Alaska on the "Top of the World highway" connected to the Alaska highway by the Klondike highway.) Rode through the towns of Watson Lake, Ft. Nelson, and Ft. St. John on the way to Dawson Creek. Detoured west to Chetwynd BC Canada, south to Prince George, BC, then east to Jasper, Alberta, Canada. Rode the Ice fields Parkway to Lake Louise. Dipped a little farther south to pick up mail in Banff, back tracked a bit to get to the highway down though Radium Hot springs. Passed by Columbia lake, head waters of the Columbia river. Another long skinny lake located in a valley. White caps blown up on the lake, unfortunately the wind fighting my forward progress. Continuing south through a town with my favorite name Skookumchuck, then through Creston BC, over Kooteney Pass which was a doozie, 4000 ft. gain in 10 miles. Crossed my last international border entering the United States in Boundary Washington in the North East corner of the state followed the Columbia river best I could to Grand Coolee dam. From here tried to pick a route that would get me as close as possible to Hood River, OR. without spending much time in the gorge. This time of year there's strong winds in that area, and they normally blow west to east. I'm riding east to west. Wanted to cross the Columbia river and go up the east flank of Mt. Hood around the south side to Government Camp then cruise down into Portland. From Grand Coolee passed through the towns of Ephrata, a name which to me sound like it ought to be in Egypt or something. Then through Vantage, WA. Yakima, Toppenish, down to Goldendale, over to Klickitat, and finally over the Columbia River to Hood river. Climbed the east flank of Mt. Hood as planned and coasted into Portland from Government Camp. This brought me up to just over 19,300 miles for the trip with about 1,400 miles left to go.

Backing up to the time of the end of the last newsletter back by Whitehorse, in the Yukon Territory.

First day back on the road after a two and a half day break I overtook another cycle tourist. He wore insulated high-up boots, thermal underwear, wool pants, wool plaid shirt, and a watchman's night cap under his old Bell original style helmet. I pedaled up next to him quite comfortable in my shirt, tennis shoes and shorts. Hersher Bromer was retired, does a bike tour every summer, spends a month or two every winter overhauling his Miayta touring bike. He's taught himself how to build and true wheels, re-spokes his wheels with each overhaul. He's logged over 18000 "documented miles" in Alaska and Canada. Ridden the Alaska highway three times, the first time in winter. Rode the Alaska pipeline road to Prudoe Bay, says there's 400 mile stretches without a single building. He carries two weeks of freeze dried food with him. His wife back in Colorado sends his pre-packed boxes to the places he designates as he goes along. He told me he doesn't carry a stove. He swings his arm across the horizon says "this is my stove." "Oh you build a little camp fire" I ask. " A big camp fire," he answers, "If you cant see it twenty miles away, its not big enough. Keeps the misquitos down, their attracted to the flame and jump in." He's from the old school I thought. Doesn't sound like low impact camping.

His head wanders back and forth as his eyes search the hills around for interesting sights. He carries a pair of powerful binoculars, something I wish I had, but don't want to add to the weight already on the bike. Says he sees lots of wildlife most people miss. I believe it, it is really easy to not pay attention just getting lost in a pedaling daze though mile after mile of country that all looks so beautiful but at the same time so uniformly the same unless you take the time to notice the subtle changes as you move along. He's written three books on his travels but has not got them published. He just makes copies himself and gives them to his friends. He likes to ride ten miles then walk one, ride ten, walk one. He looked at me through his Ray Ban Aviator sunglasses as he spoke. "I used to work for and Aero Space Company, fourteen years ago discovered I had cervical problems, if I looked down, I would pass out." The doctors told him he'd probably be in a wheel chair within three months. He retired and started riding a bike. "I can ride a bike no-problem" he said. I sensed that he was getting ready to get off and start the walk a mile bit so I wished him the best of luck on this adventure and pedaled off. The guy really likes the wilderness I thought as I saw him get smaller and smaller in my rear view mirror. He's obviously much better prepared for bad weather than I am.

A couple of days later came to Johnsons Crossing at the Teslin river canyon. There's a campground, gas station, restaurant, and adjoining food store which includes a small bakery. For the past week I'd heard from North bound cyclists how good the sweet rolls were there. Made fresh in their bakery. Even with such good recommendation I passed on them and got just enough for one dinner to get me into the town of Teslin which according to the Canadian Triple A map would have services including a decent size store. Found a nice camp spot on the shore of Teslin lake to camp that night. Took advantage of the water being close by to make several trips down to the lake with my two gallon plastic bucket to get water to wash me and my clothes. Ah that feels so good! Too bad the cleaning only lasts about half a day. From Teslin it was another three days to the next town with a real food store, Watson Lake. Seems That I'm constantly balancing buying enough food to get to the next town with "cheaper" food prices and buying just enough to get to the next little village which may have a place to buy some goods. Buying in the big towns is cheaper, but then you have to carry all that weight, which can easily add up to 15 lbs or more. How many times do you have to save three dollars at a food stop to pay for a $50.00 back wheel I thought. When I know I have three days to the next town I'll generally get four or four and a half days of food. Much as I try to get only what I need my paranoia about running out of food always takes over. Several times having an abundance of food has saved me. Allowed me to take an unplanned rest day in a nice area, or made up for an increase in appetite when conditions required more energy, like big hills or cold wet weather.

I'd heard about and finally ran into two women walking south from Anchorage. From their ages one might think they were a mother daughter team, they were actually a mother and friend of daughter in-law team. They intend to walk to Buenos Aires Argentina. I rode slowly and talked with them for quite a while. Sherri the older woman pushed a three wheeled joggers baby stroller with all her stuff in it. Teresa pulled a home made two wheeled cart with

long handles that she tied to a harness type fabric belt around her waist. They had started with back packs but decided it might be easier to use that

age old invention, the wheel. Teresa in her early thirties was concerned about going through Central and South America. She was trying to talk me into joining them after I finished my trip. Sure would be easier if there was a man along she said. Sherri said " Oh, but we'll be tough by then." She hunched over showed her gritted teeth and made fists. Then they both giggled at her antic. An Oriental on a touring bike approached from the south. Said his name was Jim, from Taiwan. He'd stopped and taken half a dozen pictures of us as we got closer to him. He was riding to the Arctic Circle, and had "Arctic Circle Tour 1996" painted on the cross bar of his bright yellow mountain bike. He kept flashing picture with both an Olympus instamatic he had dangling from his neck, and a full bodied 35 mm he kept in his handle bar bag. His English was a bit confusing, and no matter how we explained that me on the bike and the girls with the carts were not together he kept lumping us together in his mind. We were able to find out that he has written three books in Chinese about bicycle touring in English speaking countries. I think he went a way scratching his head wondering how a guy on a bicycle and two women with carts would travel together. The girls had talked to Jodi and Bob when they passed through, they talked to Michelle and Peter when they passed by, then Charles and Lisa. Whoa, I thought. Charles and Lisa, I haven't seen or heard from them since New Zealand. "Oh, they are just a couple of hours ahead of you." They said they were going to try and make it to Swift River tonight to camp."

I hadn't planned to ride that far but this might be my only chance to catch up with them. Why hadn't I heard about them from other cyclists I thought. I reasoned they must have just ferried up to Haines then rode up to Haines junction. They probably passed me when I was resting outside of Whitehorse. I kept riding into the evening to try to catch them. About 8:30 PM with 74 miles on my odometer for the day I spotted Lisa off in an open area of a roadside gravel pit cooking dinner. I pulled in and immediately started catching up on what they've been up to. They stayed in lots of homes in New Zealand, and did the same in Australia. They changed their airline tickets around so they could spend an extra month in Australia. They had to back track by bus and train to get to the proper airport to fly to Vancouver BC. Lisa had done the intro to scuba diving course as I did out on the Great Barrier Reef. She asked "Did they ask you the $55.00 question?" referring to the way the instructor, after getting you under water and going through some simple exercises, looks at each student individually. "Are you Okay" he gestures. If you give him a thumbs down. they take you up out of the water and you get a refund. If you give him a thumbs up, you've just spent $55.00 and the class continues, you descend to a depth of 10 meters and swim around looking a the coral and sea life.

Lisa went to bed long before Charles and I finished catching up. They spent July 4th at a Baptist church in Juneau, were invited to a big Salmon Bake and fireworks. Charles's summary of New Zealand was that the folks there like to talk about politics and that he thought he probably knew enough about the country now to vote. His summary of Australia was that he thinks he knows enough people their now that next time he goes he probably won't need a tent. The two of them were packed and heading out of camp by 8:30 or so next morning. I was sleeping in, but got up to get a picture of them with their tandem and trailer. Think that might be the only picture I have of them. Charles told me they have worn out two trailer tires, not because they have biked a great distance but because the tire closest to the road edge often falls off the pavement, and that's hard on the tire. They turned down the Cassier Highway the next day and that's been the last I heard from them.

One thing about this area, there are only a few through roads so the cyclist communication network is pretty efficient. Most cyclists stop to talk at least briefly as they pass. The common theme seems to be to talk of the other cyclists you met. Everybody seems to know where everybody else is on the road, where they are coming from, where they are going, and what nationality they are. Even if you don't stop to talk to the other cyclist, everybody still knows about you , because if you're on the road you are seen by other cyclists, and they talk of everybody or every unusual thing they see.

Alan Jackson was riding with a partner he'd met through the Adventure Cycling Companions Wanted adds. His partner was a triathelete and a school teacher. They stay in camp grounds every night cause his partner Eric insists on a shower every night. "It's okay with me" says Alan, "I like having other people around at the camp grounds". Continuing "Eric is usually ahead, but he must have stopped to rest. He's a real slave driver. Up and on the road every morning rain or shine. I'll finish this trip but probably won't travel like this again." Alan called his wife the other night to ask permission to ride back part way solo. Wants to try traveling on his own for a while. A few minutes later I ran into Eric. First he had to explain to me that he usually

was in front but he had gotten a flat today. "I'm a school teacher, I do Triathlons" he said as he explained he had to get going. Some how this was

supposed to make sense to me but it didn't. Thinking about the conversation with Alan I thought it interesting that people traveling in groups seem to

have a need to air their laundry to other people outside their group.

Just before Watson Lake I met a guy who I learned worked at the HP facility in Spokane. I figured he must be an engineer or middle manager just by the way he spoke, and the fact that I thought he must have a decent income to arrive the way he did. He had hired a bush plane to fly him and his bike

from the ferry terminal at Prince Rupert to Telegraph Peak, a little community with just a dirt track kind of road connecting it to the outside world. He had left his car with a mechanic, something was going wrong with it. He had ridden from Telegraph Peak out to the Cassier highway north to the Alaska highway and now was headed to Skagway so he could ferry back to Prince Rupert where the mechanic would have the car waiting for him at the ferry dock. He's not the first person I'd talked to about having a mechanic pick up an ailing car from a ferry dock fix it and return it at the customer's

convenience. Wished I would have gotten his Email address, or at least his name, might have been a good contact for when I get back out in the working world. He said they're always looking for computer guys. He was a bit of a history buff, and told me stories of how the First Nations People had moved around in the area after the white man arrived. Was the second or third person to impress upon me that these were not to be called Natives, or Indians. They are First Nations Peoples. The Canadian government is in the process of letting these people set up their own government and school systems. They are to become a nation within a nation. Some people have told me that Canada is in the midst of breaking up into three countries, Canada, the French speaking and Quebec, and the First Nations people.

I'd carried my last article and other letters for four days to get to Watson Lake where there would be a real post office to mail it. Watson Lake is also home of the sign forest. With a little looking around found a Portland Oregon sign and a Purdy Ave sign, each of which I took a picture of. There was a visitor center with some theatrical displays of camp scenes in building the Alaska Hwy. Done pretty well I thought. Unfortunately the City hall building had burned down just two days before; part of it was the post office. Asking around town I found a hotel that would allow me to give them money for stamps and they would put the letters with others on a tour bus to Whitehorse where stamps could be purchased and mail service was not interrupted. I figured that would get the mail to its destination faster than carrying if for another six or seven days to the next big town Ft. Nelson which would have a post office. Picked up four days of food at the supermarket and went to a city park for a picnic. Ate two donuts to ease the junk food craving I was suffering from, then a container of yogurt to try and get back to healthy eating.

With the extra load from my food shopping my bike tires seemed a little soft. Stopped at a filling station to use their air hose to fill 'em up. The gauge showed that it inflated to 70 lbs, but the tires were rock hard, must be more than just 70 lbs I thought, but the bike sure rolled nicely so I left them inflated hard. That afternoon the five cord cut in my rear tire where I had put a boot in to get some extra life out of the tire was bulging. Now about eight or ten cords broken and the boot showing through the hole. Thump, thump, thump went the tire as I rode along. Was late, cold and wet out and time to camp so I ignored it and hoped it would last till I found a place to camp. Next day was warm and sunny found an open gravel pit with a little breeze, a perfect place to change the tire and not be bothered by the misquitos that bothered me in last nights camp in the woods. Put on my spare avocet cross 26x1.5 Kevlar belt tire I'd gotten in Anchorage. Makes for tire number nine on the trip. I thought I'd heard a very high pitch creaking sound when I had inflated the rear tire, couldn't figure out what would make such a noise when I was doing it. In changing the tire I now knew. The ceramic on the braking surface of the rear rim had tiny cracks in it. Just as the last one had developed. And sure enough when every thing was back together I found that the rear brakes grabbed a little. The front tire my old Continental top tour which I had used for the shake down ride, carried across the states as a spare, ridden on through Europe, then moved back to a spare through India, Asia, NZ, and Australia, finally to be put back in use near Anchorage. Accumulated 6000 miles on it or so. It too was showing signs of little cuts widening. I let some air out till it felt like its normal hardness. A couple days later realized that I had no spare now and the front tire was pretty marginal. I tore it down and put boots in the two places were the largest cuts were. Was lucky in Ft. Nelson found a sporting goods store that sold bikes, and bike tires. I picked out a Raleigh City Slicker 559 x 40, which happens to be 26x 1.5 inch tire for $10.00 Canadian. All other tires were $30.00 and up. This looked like it had been taken off a new bike and some other tire put on. Made in Taiwan with no signs of wear I thought this'll be good enough for a spare. Hesitant to buy a really good tire cause I still had the avocet cross 26x1.5 tires I'd sent home before I went to Europe which still had some good life left in them. I could pick them up from Dad later on in the trip when I visit which I was planning to do.

The area between Liard River and Summit Lake on the way to Ft. Nelson was very scenic. In this steep walled cliff lined valley saw a couple dozen Caribou, and half a dozen moose. Saw a dark shape on the side of the highway ahead at the top of a little hill. As I got closer I could see it was a black bear foraging on the road side. This area had wide clearings on each side of the highway. A car passed going the other direction, and the bear moved away from the highway to the edge of the clearing. I labored up the hill and passed the bear. Looked back to see him up on his hind legs to get a better view of that strange thing that just went by. Down the other side the bike quickly accelerated to 30 mph. I moved my hands into the drops and picked up another 5 mph. They say bears can run 30+ mph but it gave no chase. Also saw where the wild life had licked depressions in the dirt in the side of the road. A plaque explained the animals have mineral cravings which they can satisfy by licking the salt from natural and man introduced sources on the road side. Figured the man introduced sources must be from salting the road and most likely are the major contributor to minerals being on the roads shoulder.

Seems that flying the Alaska highway is a popular thing to do. Each day I see one to maybe half a dozen light planes following the route. I've even noticed them flying around clouds and then coming back onto the route. I guess most are navigating by site, and are not trained to fly on instruments and therefore have to stay out of the clouds. Must be some amazing view from up in the sky.

After passing the turn off for the Cassier highway I saw very few cyclists. Only two or three till I got to Prince George which put me back on a main east west route through Jasper. The route from Ft. Nelson to Ft. St. John took me five days and was a bit boring. Much of the highway had been improved so there were very few curves, and wide clearings on either side. Apparently the original highway was very twisty and turny in this area trying to find a route though swamp, bogs, and the low hills that enclose them. The straightening has removed in excess of 50 miles over the 1450 mile route. Had crossed east of the Rocky mountains now so when I did get on a high spot I could see miles and mile of trees, like you might see corn in corn fields in the mid west. Way off in the distance could see the jagged and occasionally snow capped peaks of the Rockies.

After days of not seeing other cyclist, ran into a German fellow, Thomas heading north. He's five months into a five year around the world trip, going around the opposite way as me. Says he has only enough money though for three years so he'll have to stop to work along the way. He'd already ridden around in Europe and across Canada. Said he had ridden through Africa, and when I questioned him as to what that was like I learned he had only spent two days there. The Arabs are hard to deal with he reported. Two days after that met Carrie, a small build woman with dark hair in her thirties who was cycling to Alaska from Lethbridge Alberta Canada. This was her first loaded bike tour, and she said she was learning as she went. She had lowrider panniers on the front, a handle bar bag, big panniers on the back, with other stuff piled sky high above them. Two 2 liter water bottles in the pile on the back helped add to the drastic shimmy the bike had as she progressed down the road. She too was living off of freeze dried food being set to her in boxes she had prepared before she left and sent to her mother. Mom sends them off to her at her request. She's camping wild cause she's only got $300.00 to her name. Said she had only spent $50.00 in the past month. The food was all paid for before she left. She had checked around and determined it was cheaper to buy freeze dried food and have it sent to her than buy food in the little stores along the way. She stops at the restaurants and has coffee or something cheap and inquires about the local job market. She checks in by phone every few days. She looked very unusual. Such a tiny girl on a heavily loaded bike. She admitted that she pushes up most the big hills. Still working on developing strength. She wore black rimmed prescription glasses, no sun glasses. I'd get terrible headaches if I didn't wear sun glasses. Had the pant legs of her biking shorts rolled up showing a tan line on white skin. A loose fitting bright colored biking jersey, a whistle and a compass hung from a cord around her neck, and a belt around her tiny waist with a cheap looking hunting knife and leather holster. On the handlebar of her bike a big bear horn and compressed air canister. This woman was ready for any outdoor situation that might come up I thought. After talking with her for fifteen of twenty minutes we each went our ways. I wished I had taken a picture of her and given her my address so she could send me a letter after her trip. I'd love to know how it turned out. The next day met an older fellow in a Dodge van going north. Asked him to deliver a message to her if he saw her. The following day met two young girls in Ford pickup. They might have been 18 but I doubt it. Gave them a similar note with my address to give to the lady cyclist if they saw her. At least there is a chance now that I may hear from her.

In Ft. St. John stopped at a gas station to get directions to a supermarket. Looked like the Highway bypassed the main part of town. As I was leaving a policeman stopped his car, his window already down, he yelled out to me "How's it going?" That lead to a thirty minute conversation which he learned about my travels and I learned he had just made a bust today, and was on a natural high. A kid he's been trying to pin down for over 6 months. He was on his way to McDonalds to use a two for one coupon when he saw the kid, and made a U turn away from McDonalds to follow the guy. The coupon expired that day and he wasn't going to get a chance to use it so he gave it to me. Well I don't normally go to McDonalds but decided I can make an exception now and then. Ordered two chicken sandwiches, a 7-up, and small fries. Would be nice to have a break from peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Sat at a table where I'd be able to keep an eye on the bike outside. There was a kids birthday party going on and a couple parents tending to the kids while other parents in the background talked amongst themselves. They had noticed the bike and were taking about how stuffed and used it looked. Seems that no matter how I dress people still pick me out of the crowd as being the one associated with the bike outside. As I had my fries and soda I answered their questions while I waited for my sandwiches to be delivered. One of the parents, an attractive woman in a motorcycle leather jacket and chaps, dominated the questioning. She was French-Canadian, taught French at the local school and had a very seductive voice. She smiled and grinned in amazement at the tales of my journey. Her young daughter was attending the party, she didn't really care for the other girl's mother, nor did the other girl's mother care much for her. "But the girls like each other so much we find a way to get along." She told me of her love of horses and traveling and the outdoors. When she was 15 she went on a two week horseback outing. She loved it, was the best thing she's ever done. She was the only kid who didn't quit. She was proud of that. She spoke of wanting to buy her girl a keyboard to make music but at $750.00 it was out of the budget. I suggested she look in the paper for a second hand one. Something that had not occurred to her. "Just give me your problems" I said jokingly, "and they will be solved. All the worlds problems solved right here." "Oh how much do I owe you for that one? My Shrink charges $75.00 an hour" she replied. Outside the MacDonalds I got a picture of her and her little girl both in black leather in front of her motorcycle. Fringe hanging from the handle bars and leather saddle bags. She says it makes it look more feminine.

Dawson Creek, finally Mile post zero of the Alaska highway. A big sign and visitor center at the start of the highway. The sign replaced the original Milepost zero marker which was run over by a car. A re-designed mile post zero has been relocated in the middle of the down town. Took me a while to find it, but I succeeded. Got a passer by to take a picture of me there. She said she sees people doing this all the time. After shopping and getting a new book to read at the used book store in town; trading in the two I'd been carrying and finished, plus the one I found and finished reading, for just one book. Lightening the load. I've been reading lots of books lately, a new experience for me, I'm generally not much of a reader. Pedaling out of town dark clouds way off in the distance and a strong breeze. Ten minutes later the dark clouds were here accompanied by thunder and lightning. Some kids in a roadside pullout intent on watching the coming storm from the safety of the cab of their pickup yelled out to me you'd better head for cover as I passed by. Thought I could maybe ride out of the storm's way but in just a few minutes it was clear that wouldn't happen. Ducked into a field with good potential of being hidden from the road and set up the tent. Drenching rain started just as I was putting in the last tent stake. Got inside and had sandwiches for dinner. Don't have to worry about bears here at least. It had been several months now since Anchorage and the tents last water sealing session. It was starting to leak again but not bad enough to cause any misery. That night listened to the most violent storm of the trip. Rain, hail, and ferocious wind which kept the tent swaying side to side and flapping much of the night. Next day the sun came out, the ground dried and looked as though nothing had happened.

Cold rain going into Chetwynd. A local said it had snowed there twice this summer once in June, and again earlier in July. The woman at the gas station I stopped at to get water said it was looking like it might possibly snow again. Great! I thought and I'm heading even higher into the mountains. Luckily the gas station woman was wrong. The next day crossing over Pine Pass I had fine sunny weather. Went over the worst section of road though. Ten miles of two inch sized rocks topped with a little bit of sand and 1/4" size gravel. The road bed was being rebuild to be a water porous material. The previous road bed held water and heaved terribly when it froze and thawed. Ten more miles of old road bed that the asphalt had been removed and the surface graded. Much easier riding cause it was smooth and had been hard packed by the car and truck traffic.

Down to Prince George and then west on the Yellowhead Highway to Jasper. Started running into other cyclists again. Rode by Mt. Robson the tallest of the Rockies in Canada. Some very beautiful sights along the way. Sediment layers of a sea bed long ago pushed up to tremendous heights. The town of Jasper, originally a railroad town now turned major tourist destination, was crowed with people. I did my shopping and lazed around on a big green lawn. I remember laying on this same lawn years before and writing postcards when I was here with my old roommate Dave Menicosy on a motorcycle trip. Some things looked so very familiar, others not at all so.

Had been planning to rendezvous with my parents in Banff and had been pushing to get to Jasper so I could have enough time to take it slow and easy down through the Icefields parkway before the rendezvous. Called Dad for last minute updates and found that the trip was called off. Too far away with so much going on at home, we rescheduled a rendezvous for when I passed through Portland. Would be much easier logistics. So now I had no rush at all to get through the Icefields. I slowed way down going only 20 miles some days. Even though had to do two long climbs overall felt as if I was giving my body a rest. Had clear weather for most to the journey, my eyes roaming and gawking at the scenery. Re-reading all the road side plaques I'd read before on previous trips. They explained how over millions of years the mountains had been pushed up. These are young mountains, you can tell by how jagged they are, older mountains are rounded, smoothed by wind and water erosion. Read about the Columbia Icefield and how it collects the snow falls that feed many glaciers among them, Athabasca, Dome and Stutfield glaciers.

So many cyclists around here that if you stopped to talk to all of them you'd never get any where. I did keep bumping into two couples David and Janna from San Francisco. David lives just 7 miles from the Golden gate bridge and is looking forward to my riding through to visit, as I'm looking forward to having a place to stay and a familiar face in a sea of humanity. Tim and Wendy, Australians, have cycled down from Prudoe Bay They'll rent a car when they get to Calgary and drive out to Vancouver BC to tour around a bit more out there. Wendy told me of a bakery recommended to her by other cyclists in Lake Louise. We camped at a campground near the visitor center. They stayed an extra day while I pushed on. Bumped into each other again at the Bakery. I'd cycled up to look around at Lake Louise. Stopped at a grocery shop on the way out of town, and on a whim, walked into the Bakery for a donut and a piece of fudge brownie. My sweet tooth getting the best of me. I was just about to leave when Tim and Wendy walked in. Tim's bike was at the bike shop down the street. The mechanic putting on a new cassette because the chain has been skipping. Been like that for a couple of weeks and its getting worse even with a new chain.

Ran into Harry a Dutch cyclist. I'd met him on his way north just before I split up with Michelle. He was on his way up to the Top of the World Highway and Dawson City. He was doubling back now going through the Icefields parkway. He'd met Jodi and Bob, Michelle and myself, and Ole and Regina. He said Ole and Regina were traveling slow and that by now he figured he was probably a week ahead of them. They had a bear get into their food one night had torn up their bags besides getting their food. Harry had also run into Helen in Whitehorse. Said she was traveling solo. This was the first I'd heard of Ole and Regina. Surprised the life out of me that they were only a week behind. How could they be that close if they had been all the way up to the top of the world highway and in Dawson City. A look at he map explained it. If they got off the ferry at Skagway its a straight shot to Whitehorse. From there they could go north on the Klondike Hwy up to Dawson City, west on the Top of the World Hwy to Tok Alaska, then down to Haines Junction east towards Watson Lake to turn south on the Cassier Hwy to cruise on south toward Seattle. Lots fewer miles than my route, they were making up time.

In Banff picked up mail. Got a post card from Michelle. According to the date she had been through town nine days before me even after waiting three days in Jasper for the weather to clear. She had ridden with Peter up to three days before the date of the post card. He turned south and her east. "As planned" the note said. She mentioned a hope of catching Jodi and Bob, and expecting to be home in Connecticut by Oct. 1. No doubt barring any

disasters she'll make it. Also picked up a new chain. The current one had been on since the middle of Australia. About 4000 miles. The new chain was the fifth on the this cassette. I'd been trying to change them every 3000 miles. It skipped when I first put it on. Time for the new (spare) cassette I've been carrying I thought. Decided I'd ride at least 200 miles though before I changed it. After about fifty miles oiled the chain real well and it hasn't skipped since. Think I'd just left the joining link to tight. But next time I'll put on the new cassette for sure.

Pretty uneventful riding down towards the US border. As I mentioned before Kooteney pass turned out to be a surprise. A much more difficult climb than I expected. I seemed to be taking pretty unusual route for a bicycle. Til I got to Wilbur Washington I saw only three cyclists. One touring, actually commuting home to Edmonton after a summer of work and play in Utah. He had a burley kids trailer piled full of stuff. The trailer axle wasn't exactly

perpendicular to the direction of motion so his trailer tires scuffed as he rode down the road. One tire had threads showing almost all the way around. He said he expected it to blow today or tomorrow. The other cyclist I saw I had met before at the visitor center at the Icefields Parkway. They were unloaded, carrying just one change of clothes, eating in restaurants and staying in hostels and hotels. They're English guys doing 95 miles a day for a month. They do a one month tour every year. Previous years they had been to New Zealand, Australia, Cuba, and China. So this is an easy one I thought out loud, 1st world English speaking country. Yes, the organizer of the party agreed.

The customs and immigrations station in Boundary Washington is so small that there were just two very bored looking officials in the small building. After being asked the customary questions of where have you been, what is your citizenship and where were you born, I asked if they could stamp my passport. I don't have a USA stamp yet. Seeing as they agreed to do that, and were amazed to see all the other stamps in there, I asked them if they would be willing to take a picture of me shaking hands with one of them in front of the building. Surprising to me they agreed. Hope it turns out, it'll be a classic shot. The guard said Welcome home as he shook my hand and the camera snapped the picture.

I got the impression that Wilbur Washington was on one of the bike centennial routes cause the cyclist I met there said he was following a biking map. He had cycled from Michigan on his way to Bellingham WA.. He then planned to go down the coast to San Francisco, over to Yosemite, then out to Colorado. He just couldn't get over all the stuff I had on my bike, and how worn things looked. "Wow, now that's a bike trip" he kept repeating. There's a chance I may bump into him again going down the coast.

Dry falls just outside of Coolee City. An ancient route of the Columbia River, said to have been a mile and a half wide, and 400 feet high. The Columbia River had been blocked by an ice dam and the water found this new route. Carved these falls. When the ice dam broke, the water went back to the old route leaving this enormous canyon. A little secret Grand Canyon I thought as I rode through. Mostly Washington plates on the cars and RV's, a well kept secret I thought.

A big gaming center in Toppinish WA south of Yakima. A huge Yakima Nation visitor center. The proceeds from the gaming center must have been used to build the visitor center. A number of large buildings on a spacious grounds. Not your ordinary visitor center, the core building's roof shaped

similar to that of a teepee. I would have liked to go in and look around but at this point I was in a hurry to get home. This is close enough I can come and explore around here another time.

The Klickitat river showed lots of signs of flooding. Branches and other debris piled on the upstream sides of trees fences and houses well above the river. Could see many places the water had clearly come over the road. All leftovers from last February's storms. Only had to go against the wind in the Columbia River Gorge for about 13 miles, but that was plenty. Approaching the Hood River Toll bridge a sign announced the toll schedule. I didn't see a listing for bicycles. The next sign said bicycles and pedestrians not advised. Oh well, it can't be that bad as I pedaled onward. It was a steel grate surface. Kind of fun to be able to look through and see the white caps on the water directly below. No shoulder at all. I can see why bikes are

not recommended I thought. On the draw bridge portion the steel grate runners were all parallel to the direction of travel. That felt real uncomfortable, but I made it through without disaster. At the toll booth on the other side I was waved through. "There's no charge for bicycles" the man said.

Went out to the windsurfer area, found a shady picnic table to have lunch and watch the action. One guy explained to me it wasn't very good wind today, "If it were this place would be packed". I looked around and saw whitecaps on the water indicating 15-20 knot breeze, and not a free parking spot available. Wonder what its like when its packed. Looking around I thought it looked like a pretty normal cross section of people. Not the super fit young beach crowd I expected. Lots of "older" people like myself. As I watched I wondered what it would take to get me active in this sport. I windsurf, but only on lakes, and when the wind is above white caps I generally head for shore, just too tough to keep on top of my old original windsurfer equipment in high winds.

Coming into the familiar as I climbed Mt. Hood to Government Camp. Pulled into all the different snow parks to look around and see what might have changed since I was last home. The biggest change I saw was a second hand lift spread out all over the parking lot of the Hood River Meadows area. A passer by told me it would be to service Heather Canyon so you wouldn't have to skate out.

I was impressed with the bike path all the way into Portland. Followed Hwy 26 to Burnside road. Followed along the light rail where there was just a four block section with no bike path. Embarrassingly I had to ask how to get to the Ross Island Bridge. It was Labor Day afternoon thought maybe some Willamette sailing club folks might be coming back from the annual regatta held in Eugene. I stopped by the sailing club but saw no familiar faces. Continued on home to find Mom and Dad already there and my first look at my house in over a year and a half. Mary (my renter) has done a nice job in taking care of the place and decorating. I found myself thinking this place looks better now then when I was living here.

In the following days I did a lot of visiting. I crashed a Nordic Club meeting and surprised a few people. Had to keep explaining I'm not done yet, I'm just passing through. Got some work done on the bicycle. Overhauled the pedals, and the head set. Much to my pleasure the headset bearing races were pit free! Not true of the cones on the pedals, but I just put new bearings in fresh grease and reassembled them. Picked up the pedal bearings at a little corner bike shop in Tualitin simply cause that's the area Dad and I happened to be driving through as we ran some errands. Two Wheel Motion, the name of the shop. Wally, the Dad of the operation, handled the bearing transaction. Dad noted that I go into a bike shop it costs me a buck, Dad

gets his plane worked on and it costs several thousand. Think there is a message here. Thinking about the cracks in my rear wheel and seeing a

truing stand I asked about their rim inventory and capability to build wheels. In talking with Ole and Regina I'd found that they both had to replace their rear rims again. I was thinking my rim could finish the trip but since it would be easy to deal with here why not practice an ounce of prevention. Wally said his son Steve is a master wheel builder. Their shop schedule was pretty open. Not true of the five other bike shops in town I'd called. Seems that nobody in town has the Sun Rhino Wheel I wanted but one shop had a Rhino lite. No thanks, light weight wheels don't hold up for me. I'd asked Dad to bring up the original front wheel I'd started the trip with. Decided I'd move the Sun Rhino rim I had on the front hugi hub to the rear, then use the original front wheel with its XT hub on the front to finish the trip. I scheduled a little shop time for the next day. Took my wheels down there and did the swap. Steve trued the new combination up as we talked of my trip. All the other shops were booked with bikes being fixed and tuned up for Cycle Oregon. This shop's customer had gotten their bikes in early and Steve and Wally had got the work done and out. I liked the shop it was a comfortable place to be I thought. Not all the hype that you find in many bike shops. Just a little family business catering to family biking needs.

Well I hope to be back out on the road tomorrow. One more jaunt on the open road then what ?? Everybody asks me that and I have no answer yet. Time will tell, that's all I can say.

Happy riding

John Purdy