All Good Things Must Come to an End

Wow. We are a week away from finishing this trip. To be totally honest, we've been looking forward to this for awhile. Around San Francisco Rusti and I began feeling a little antsy in our pantsies. You have a lot of time to think on a bicycle tour, time to come up with brilliant ideas (dryer sheets in your panniers help keep your clothes from smelling like a big moldy mess!), time to ponder your existence, time to make personal decisions, but you don't have a lot of time to actually implement your ideas. Rusti has been feeling motivated to stay in one place and develop a skill. Farming has been an interest for the past few years, but there hasn't been a chance to actually spend time at a farm, you know, farming. Throughout this trip the inspiration to work with a farm in a bicycle friendly town blossomed and grew and California began presenting itself as a great place to follow that idea into the rabbit hole to see where it takes us. As we sat in San Francisco, mentally and physically tired, we debated what to do. Five hundred miles to Los Angeles felt like a lifetime, and train tickets from San Francisco directly to Denver beckoned. Rusti signed into the WWOOFing (World-Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms) website and set up an account so that he could contact farms in California for volunteer work. He found a farm near Big Sur that looked interesting, and I had heard great things about that area, so we decided to make it the 150 miles to Big Sur and then reevaluate.

In San Francisco we stayed with our friend Miles at his brother's apartment - conveniently located in the middle of the city right in Nob Hill. Miles was a great host, plus we got to meet some more of his friends who he had met on other travels. The next day he rode us out of the city through beautiful Golden Gate Park. And may I say Thank You San Francisco for being the easiest, most painless city to exit. On the way out we were stopped by a taxi driver who wrote out a series of directions that would take us on a shortcut of sorts. This shortcut was surely not shorter but most definitely more beautiful than riding along the highway the whole time. We ended up on an old road that climbed into the hills above the fog and received our first and only glimpse at sunshine that day. It was truly beautiful.

We continued down the coast and were able to stay with another friend in Santa Cruz, Michael. We showed up with a stalk of brussels sprouts (yes, they grow on stalks, it's weird) and Michael treated us like kings - we cooked dinner at his place and he even bought us beer! He knows how to make lifelong friends out of Team Krusti. The next day we were treated to Michael riding us out on his Death Machine aka fixed gear bike with no brake. He is a master of this mode of transportation and definitely made me consider getting a "fixie" to improve my riding, although mine would most definitely have a brake.The countryside was beautiful and we snacked on strawberries that grew by the rowful in the fields scenting the air like jam. Thanks, Michael, you rekindled the last spark in our hearts for continuing our trip and we steamed on down to Monterey.

Through Monterey and the beginning of Big Sur we had some very rainy days. Thankfully we were able to stay with the sister of Vaughn, the woman who we stayed with in Hopland two or three weeks previously. Nancy lived with her dog Charlie in the neatest house I've seen on this trip. It was an old trailer perched on the cliff of she had bought 20 years previously and had fixed up to be the perfect nook. Add a "banana express" - Big Surian for tropical storm - blowing through and a giant bottle of Jack Daniels that her friends brought by and it was the coziest place we've been for a long time. Much better than the tent in that weather. We braved the storm the next morning only to fight 30 mile headwinds and make 15 miles in 3 hours. Needless to say we holed up in the bar that day to wait for the weather to move on. The next day we woke up to pristine skies and perfect riding conditions - namely, tailwinds. We rode 70 miles the rest of the way through Big Sur - which is a region, not a town - and had a wonderfully beautiful day. One of the top 3 of the whole trip.

After Big Sur we continued on down on highway 1 until finally we reached Pismo Beach and PALM TREES! The next few days were beautiful. We stayed in a campsite that looked straight out of a resort, and even better met people there who had a whole cooler of beer they were trying to get rid of. Looks like a task for Team Krusti! Finally we made it to a close enough distance to LA where we could call my dear friend Rachel who lives in LA to come pick us up and take us to her abode.

So, even though we didn't know if we would even make it past Big Sur, the adventure has continued. Now we are only a little over 100 miles from San Diego, the end of our trip. First, though, we have to ride through LA...**shudder**

Beers & bikes will save the world! (part 2)

So there we were cycling into Santa Rosa to meet Ken - a nice man with a banana we had met roadside in Southern Oregon. He warned us it was a big hill up his driveway, but we didn't realize his princely abode resided atop a hill overlooking all of Russian River valley! Even better, he had a huge garden where we picked fruits of all kinds. We were very kindly put up in the guest house Murphy bed - a first for both of us.

The next day was time for Russian River! To me, this was the holy grail of breweries - the one I'd been looking forward to the whole trip. The beer was delicious. Unfortunately this was marred by the sub par service. It wasn't busy or understaffed and yet the very nice man who even bought us a round had a difficult time ordering. Strongly worded letter in progress.

From Russian River it was on to Fairfax, birthplace of the mountain bike and home of Biketoberfest. We spent some time here exploring and were able to stay with Sarah and her son Ari who we hooked up with from couchsurfing. They were very gracious hosts. Saturday we volunteered at biketoberfest where we met some of our cycling heroes and drank many a delicious beer. This was the end of our brewery tour - it was finally time to keep heading southward into San Francisco!

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And then there was beer.

So there we were, sitting in a Wizard of Oz style breakfast joint in the coastal town of Fort Bragg. We had been out drinking beer at North Coast Brewery (fantastic Belgian styles, another really excellent brown ale which have been popping up all over the West coast), so it wasn't an early start. We had drug the Australian chicks out with us even though they were "rather knickered" and had a blast, but all of us felt it the next morning, especially Jules who had a little spill on the ride home. They still got out on schedule with the promise of coffee 12 miles down the road, but Rusti and I weren't feeling so inspired. As we sat in Fort Bragg looking at the map, we realized that if we were to continue drinking delicious, freshly brewed brewskies we would have to move our trip inland. And Team Krusti does what Team Krusti's got to do. Inland we went.

We spoke to a few different people about routes and decided on the "Greenville-Philo Road." A beautiful drive, I mean ride, they said. None of them had ever biked it. We realized this as we started cranking up mile after mile of 13% + grades. As an empty truck flew past us I was struck with an idea. As the next truck came by I stuck out my thumb and flagged him down. As we zoomed up and up and up and up the hill, I became gladder and gladder and gladder and gladder we had hitched that ride. He took us right to our campground which was totally deserted and bid us adieu. From that point on it was all rolling hills and suds.

First we stopped by Anderson Valley Brewing Company in Boonville. They won our hearts with absolutely impeccable, inventive and deliciously quaffable brews in a nice, airy environment complete with good service and, to top it off, a disc golf course! We even got to meet Don, one of the originators of the brewery. He told us how they jackhammered the brewtuns out of the concrete in Germany and Belgium and brought everything they might have needed and more over to the states from the old land. This care and attention to detail shone through in the beers, which are some of the best in the country. Don even gave us some beer for the road!

That night we slept in the fairgrounds and the next day were off to Hopland to catch Mendocino's last day in their historic brewpub, the first in CA after prohibition. We got to the brewpub just in time, they were running out of beer right and left, but thankfully they still had some cold ones for us along with what every cyclist needs - hot dogs! As we sat at the bar we struck up conversation with Vaugh and John who graciously offered us their home. We had great conversation and even got breakfast in the morning! What great hospitality.

We left Vaughn and John's to go through Cloverdale to Healdsburg. We stopped in the heat of the day at Ruth McGowan's Pub to drink some delicious beers and snack on calamari and learned that the head brewer of Russian River had started there. Small world! Ruth McGowan's was a nice respite, but it was time to head on to Bear Republic in Healdsburg. The feel of this pub was a little different than the others we had been to recently. A little stuffier, mostly people passing through. The beers, however, were great, especially a very peppery saison mmmm mmm mm! We were hoping to have more serendipity in Healdsburg to find a place to stay, but since everyone seemed to keep to themselves we ended up finding a park. It was a beautiful night and would have been perfect if Rusti's sleeping pad hadn't sprung a large leak, leaving him sleeping on the ground.

Regardless we woke up early the next morning and after a great breakfast burrito headed out toward Santa Rosa - home of Russian River Brewing Company and Ken! But that's all to be told in chapter two of this story. Stay tuned!

Coastal Vibes

The pacific coast just gets better as we continue our ride south. In Oregon it was filled with beautiful coastal vistas, fellow cyclists and rainforest. As we head into California the road is lined with the giant coastal Redwoods - a sight that is totally indescribable. The scale of these beastly trees is so unreal that it takes actually standing directly beneath one to even begin to comprehend its huge mass. These trees are thousands of years old and give one a feeling of peacefulness in their midst. We were able to camp beneath the Redwoods one night and it was a wonderful feeling to be protected by these huge, ancient trees. The 101 also winds near the coast and through farmland, so it offers pretty much anything desirable. Cycling down the Avenue of the Giants in particular was a fun experience since it is an off-route from the highway. Overall, the California coast has treated us well so far. Now it's into wine country and then San Francisco!

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Support Team Krusti! ------->

Cycle touring is expensive! Way more than you think it would be. It turns out our plan to fill a pannier with Kashi and use it as a feedbag didn't work out since after you've been cycling all day all willpower where food is concerned goes completely out the window. And don't get me started on beer prices in Canada (cheapest 6-pack? TEN DOLLARS! 12 pack of Bud Light (not that I would drink that anyway) TWENTY-FIVE! Plus 20% tax. Crazy.) And food in the middle of nowhere in Alaska is not only sparse but incredibly pricey.

Which brings me to my next point. Now that we're back in civilization it's been easier to keep to our budget, but Alaska and Canada took a big bite out of what we had to begin with. Several people along the way have been more than kind enough to buy us a meal or a beer, or let us stay the night in their house. We thought we'd like to extend the opportunity to support Team Krusti to our, albeit small, online community.

I'll break it down for anyone interested:

A luxurious breakfast consisting of more than instant oatmeal: $25

A meal at a restaurant with hot food we didn't have to prepare over our camp stove: $35

A couple of celebratory brewskies, or a taster tray at a wonderful brewery: $10

As you can see, we don't spend much, but it does add up over time, and there's always those unexpected expenses, like the $100 we spent on new tires for Rusti's steed, or $40 for replacement chains after the first 3000 miles, or $35 for new kicks when the old ones wear out.

In sum, we have had a wonderful time on this trip, being inspired and bestowing inspiration, and we'd like to keep it up. If you would like to see us continue our trip, feel free to add a little (and I mean .50 cents to $50) to the pot by clicking on the paypal button. It will take you to a very easy to use and secure paypal site and all the money goes directly to us and then toward our shrinking waistlines.

 Thank you, thank you, and above all, Thank You!!!!!

What a few days of rest can do...

Both Rusti and I have been feeling a little worn as of late. It feels as though even our "rest" days are filled with errands or sightseeing and the time passes before we know where it went. Thankfully, we both got sick - har har har. After spending a few days on the mend it became clear that if we are going to finish this trip we have to do it on Krusti time. If we don't feel like going anywhere we don't, when we do, we will. Done. Ahhh freedom, it tastes so sweet.

On a separate note, the exciting thing about cycling down the Oregon coast has been meeting gobs of other cyclists! One night we camped with at least 25 other nutjobs carrying way too much stuff way too far. We partied and swapped cycling tales, with Rusti and I feeling a little like celebrities since we had started in AK and everyone else had started a little up the coast - mainly Vancouver. We did meet two Australian girls who had also started in Anchorage and traveled many of the same roads we had. Yesterday we met two brothers who were from Anchorage and had driven down to just up the road. It turned out that was their very first day on bikes.

It's great to meet all of these other cyclists because it gives some perspective - everyone has their own style and way of doing things. Well that's all for now, time to hit the coast!

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A new plan

Team Krusti has been woefully out of touch recently. Whereas we thought it would be easier to stay in touch once we got toward civilization, it turns out that it only presented us with different hurdles to overcome. We forgot that it's so easy to be distracted from goals by the complicated world out there.

The past month has been a totally different pace for us. It began by staying with our friend Jason in Seattle for two weeks. One week was spent just resting up and the second week I spent on a mini-tour of Vancouver Island with my mom. Both were fun but it felt great to hit the road again with Rusti to tour the Washington coast along the Olympic Peninsula. The Olympic Peninsula is a wonderful place - sparsely populated with views of the rainforest and the coast.

We then spent two days getting inland to Portland to see the town and visit friends. After a week we decided Portland is a wonderful place that doesn't need our help, so we hitched back out to the coast to get back on track heading southward.

In the end I'm not regretful of our side excursions but I am mindful about making sure we're working toward our mutual goal of making it down the coast, which still seems a very, very long way.

As far as this blog goes I have a new plan - more frequent, compact posts and no more excuses! I am committed to making this a great blog no matter the frustration or hurdles. Team Krusti! No compromises!

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From the Mountains to the Seaside City...Vancouver

I love to ride my bicycle. I think I've pretty well proved that by riding it every single day for the past few months, mostly without complaint. But for a few days that changed. I didn't want to ride my bike anymore. We had just ridden over a mountain on 14% grades on a dirt road - which was actually quite fun - but we were faced with climbing another mountain on very steep grades the next day, and the next. Thanks, Canada. Looking back, the climbing wasn't the hard part. The hard part was the heat - you see, nobody told us it would be HOT in Canada. And being Team Krusti, getting out in the early part of the day before it turns scorching seems beyond us most days. So there we were, the water in our water bottles slowly coming to a boil under the hot sun, cranking our way ever so slowly up yet another ridiculous grade when a man appeared, riding out of saddle. He said his name was Jess and when I jokingly goaded him for not hauling enough stuff, he took two of my bags on the back rack of his bicycle. In addition to saving me from pushing my bike up the mountain, he also coached both of us that day in climbing mountains, which neither of us have done much of. All in all, a very serendipitous meeting.

Regardless of our meeting with Jesus, I mean Jess, climbing that mountain in the heat of the day when I didn't really even feel like riding my bike to begin with wore on my spirit of adventure. And after an amazing descent into the town of Pemberton only to be told we would need to climb back out again to get to Whistler, my patience was running thin. We did manage to wake up early for the ride up to Whistler, which was beautiful and scenic with much more approachable hills than the previous days, and it made all the difference. We left Whistler after the heat of the day and made it outside of Squamish to be guarded by an owl friend over our tent that night. The next morning we rode into Squamish for breakfast, then began riding the "sea to sky" highway toward Vancouver. Remember, this is the highway Canada put a billion dollars into for the Olympics. Unfortunately, the foot-wide shoulder is often interrupted by large drainage grates that leave cyclists with no choice but to veer into highway speed traffic to avoid them. Needless to say I had had enough. I threw my bike down, put my head in my hands, and the tears began streaming. We stuck our thumbs out for the first time in 2500 miles of cycling, and it felt soooooooo good. We were picked up by a kite surfer in a minivan after a short 15-20 minutes of our thumbs waving in the breeze, and carted the remaining 30 miles into Vancouver at a pace unbeknown to us for the two months prior.

Once in Vancouver we found the cheapest hostel available - $20/night not to shabby eh? It was convenient to Vancouver's famous "crack market" (where crackheads sell anything they can get their hands on at very low prices to afford more crack) and run by a very "eccentric" Italian man who believed that wireless internet is destroying the world/scrambling your brain. Apparently he was also suspect of cleaning as well, because stepping into the hostel felt like stepping into a badly kept brothel in a 3rd world country. But, the price was right, and we don't seem to have contracted any strange diseases.

Vancouver is a town to tear up on bicycles, and that's what we did. We rode around and through Stanley Park - a park bigger than central park with beautiful bike/hiking paths running through it that skirts the ocean. We went to the market at Granville Island and saw huge king salmon worth $400 a piece along with every other kind of fresh seafood, fruit and vegetable imaginable. It was quite a shock to our senses to see that kind of variety after the sparseness of produce in Alaska and even in Canada, where the produce is fresh but of average variety. We then went to Wreck beach - a famous nude beach near UBC where we discarded our clothing and were offered a margarita by a man wearing only a fanny pack. We finished off our stellar day by gorging ourselves on all-you-can-eat sushi. The next day we met up with a couple who cycled from Vancouver to Patagonia with their 3-year-old son (!). We met them in a different part of Vancouver where coffee shops and breakfast joints abound and ended up at a coffee shop that rented props out to theater companies and movie productions. Pictures to follow. From that shop we were pointed toward the closest bicycle shop in the area to get directions on the best way to leave Vancouver by bicycle.

Dream Cycles was the bike shop, and it was our dream come true. As we walked into the shop we oohed and ahhed at the selection of beautiful Brooks saddles, custom built steel-framed bicycles, and other Team Krusti desirables. Kristin found exactly what she had been looking for - beautiful new handlebars and new leather ergonomic grips - money going to a great shop with a great cause - to give people their dream bikes.

After a girl we met outside of the shop bought us a cup of coffee it was finally time to hit the road out of Vancouver. All in all, Van-city was a varied and enriching experience, but it was time to get the HEY out of Canada!

Two Months, Two Years, Two-Four

Yesterday was the anniversary of beginning our trip it's also Rusti's twenty-fourth birthday, which is also the anniversary of Team Krusti uniting! Two months down, who knows how many more to go. In the past two months we have camped or couchsurfed every single night. The most adventurous part of adventure cycling is finding where you'll sleep that night. Sometimes it's another 10k (we've been in Canada too long, 10k = 6 miles), all hills, to get to the free campground in the middle of town, only to have a lone First Nations man chant over you in the middle of the night. Sometimes you ask for a recommendation to eat dinner and get offered a bed. In any case, we've done this about 60 times in the past two months. So after 10 days straight on the bicycle we justified shacking up at the Clinton Nomad motel. It's a very reasonable fee to stay, there's television and wifi, clean bathrooms and best of all we can shut the door and it's all ours.

This we did. We shut the curtains, shed our clothes and frolicked around this space that we totally privately all ours. We turned up the A/C, turned on the TV, stuck things in the fridge, took multiple showers and drank multiple cups of coffee and used the room up to it's fullest potential. Then we went out to dinner, drank a bottle of wine, and came home to turn on the TV and lie in bed. It was delicious. The outdoors has its place, but it is nice to be inside sometimes.

Well, with two months under our belts we are pumping up the hills, pouring on the miles, and taking on new challenges. We're going strong. We learn new things about ourselves everyday. But mostly, we just ride our bikes sometimes.

Changes Afoot

Well, we are barreling our way toward the two month mark of this trip. How crazy is that?!?! Since we set our arbitrary goal at four months, that would make us arbitrarily halfway done with the trip. That being said, I highly doubt that we will make it to the Baja from where we are in two months. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

The ferry ride marked a change in Team Krusti. There are several factors in this change, some imperceptible, some readily apparent. One of the more apparent factors is that we have left lonely Alaska for a place that is still open wide and sparsely populated, but has many, many more people and towns than northern AK. I realized after our stint in the wide open places of Alaska that I am not quite suited for such an isolated lifestyle. It's great to get to a town almost every day. And not a "Census Designated Place" but an actual town with more than one store and several bars! British Columbia, known as BC, is a very different place than Alaska. For one, it's Canadian, not American. Canadians are awesomely funny and nice and speak with adorable accents. It's like the United States, but just a little bit different in small ways.

This has led to meeting a flush of super-awesome, inspiring people in the past few days. We left Petersburg (the isolated of isolated - a small town on a small island, the only nearest small towns long ferry rides away) early early in the morning. Upon loading our bikes on the ship we saw a magical sight! Three touring bikes! We thought, "Who are these tourists? Are they Swiss, German, old, young?"

They turned out to be Americans, our age, headed in the same direction! They had a guitar, some beer, and the best attitudes of anyone I've met in I can't remember how long. I believe they were sent from heaven. These kids were out for FUN and they took us along with them. We needed that kick in the pants so badly and soaked it in. We hit the road in Prince Rupert at 5 am, and after breakfast and coffee hit the road by 8 o'clock to the tune of, "LET'S RIDE BIKES ALREADY!!!!!!!" They "mached it" (Montanan for rode like mother f**ers) and we miraculously kept up. I guess all of that hard riding in Alaska coupled with a few days sitting on the ferry paid off, because I've never ridden any bike like that, especially not a loaded one. It was so exhilarating to be around kids who were that excited about life and cycling and mountains and swimming. We did 50 miles by 1 o'clock and then basked in a river while sipping on some beer. We had the rest of the day to kill, so we rode another 40 after that, and then after pints and fries rode around town to finish of our century, the first for most of us. A totally random fireworks display ended our night. The next day was a little shorter but just as much fun to spend with our newfound friends, and we camped at a free campground and hung around a campfire that night. The next day Team Krusti reverted back to our slower pace and we lost track of our friends. We may meet again before Prince George, we may not meet again until we're all back in the lower 48, but we will meet again. I still need to get learned up from them about how to have a ton of fun.

Our slower pace paid off, however, because we came into the town of Smithers just in time to meet Ali. She was waiting for a friend in front of an Inn and we asked her where to eat. When she realized we had nowhere to stay she immediately offered her house. We readily accepted and found a hot shower (very, very necessary after 3 looooong days of riding), a comfy bed and laundry! Then we met her at the restaurant she had recommended, to find out it was her birthday! We celebrated with her friends and her brother bought us all dinner. We came back to Ali's to sleep in an awesomely comfy bed only to wake up to feta, cherry tomato and arugula omelets. It turns out Ali is a chef! She is also a long distance swimmer and activist, and swam 600 miles down the Skeena river to raise awareness for the watershed that may be in danger from a pipeline. Check out her website here. Her brother and friends were also activists, and planted a seed of interest in both of our minds of learning more about that endeavor.

So now here we are. In great shape, putting some great miles on, meeting great people in a great place. I love adventure cycling.

Southeast Alaska is AWESOME!

So I last wrote in the little town of Chistochina about roadside hospitality. Now as I sit at my new friend Justin's place in Juneau (how's that for alliteration?) I am reinspired. Cycling down from Tok had it's fun, hills and spills. It was absolutely beautiful, and I guarantee that the real Yukon is much more beautiful than the one you picture in your head. We saw a couple bears, a giant moose, some terrifying voles, and some very, very cute porcupines. As we came into Haines we even saw bald eagles. In fact, don't even get me started on eagles, we're eagled out.

At the top of the pass coming into the town of Haines, we slept in a mansion of a shack called the Nadahini shack. It was our first indoors sleeping experience in a little over a month, and it was well enjoyed. The shack had a shelf for our sleeping bag and a wood burning stove which pretty much cooked us all night. The next day we cycled downhill over 60 miles into the town of Haines. Haines is amazing - picture the rocky mountains with an ocean within walking distance. Oh, and all the people are really really nice and fun and smart. And you can watch a bear with three cubs and then watch a bald eagle fly overhead. Needless to say, we stayed in our seaside campground for a few nights.

Haines was great, but the road called to us. Not a real road, per se, for Alaska's definitions of many things are a little skewed, but actually a watery road. We would be boarding southeast Alaska's version of a bus - the ferry. Finally! Moving without pumping our legs! After a full day of ferry delays we finally were able to board the ship and, wow. Ferries are a blast! Stepping out onto the deck, the ship surrounded by tall mountains covered in trees enclosing the small strip of seawater that carried our vessel, watching for small islands sporting only a lone lighthouse, it was like a dream.

After being regaled by stories by the bartender of the boat about the scenery and wildlife encounters he had experienced while living in the Southeast passage, Rusti and I looked at each other and knew that we would return to this place to try our luck in the great Alaskan wilderness. There's no telling when, but we will most definitely make it back up to the great North both for the people and the scenery. We are having an awesome time!

Things I Would Like To Do, But Can't Seem to Find the Time

Hello Kids! I know it's been too long, welcome to cycling through the Yukon/"Northern" Alaska (really, it's barely 1/2 way to the northernmost part). In this part of the world, wi-fi shows up in the strangest places, but it is like a trickling stream when everybody needs big gulps of water. Bandwidth in the lower 48 is given out like candy, but up here it's guarded protectively. All of this is very frustrating in light of the fact that actually I have lots of ideas of where I would like this blog to go. It also doesn't help that all of our pictures are trapped on old fashioned film, far away from the interwebs, and that for some reason putting things onto blogs takes gobs of time. All of that time is time we're borrowing from businesses who would mostly rather us move on so that the next guy can saddle up to the stream. I guess all I can say is thank you for your patience, and give you a list of things that will hopefully be forthcoming at some point some time.

1) FAQ Page While sitting on the side of the old AlCan in our tent in a rainstorm, I wrote most of an FAQ page. Rusti still has to add the specs on his bike, though. Perhaps I will do a whole page just for gear reviews. Lord knows we're opinionated enough between the two of us.

2) Pictures. I know, you've all be waiting for them. I blame Rusti for leaving the camera charger at a campsite 4 days out from Anchorage. But that is neither here nor there. And truthfully we really haven't found a great place where we could upload them anyway. But we have been funsaving with our disposable funsavers and i'm sure there will be some mediocre pictures to post when we figure out a way to put them into digital format. Just as a warning they are mostly of mountains (95%) or signs that Rusti finds to be funny (Fuch lake). They will probably all look remarkably similar to one another. I guess you'll just have to take your own cycling trip through Alaska and the Yukon and see for yourself. I highly, highly recommend it.

3) Energy Balls. They're everywhere. Sometimes you feel them just flying back and forth between your ears at night. They become most apparent through acts of generosity from perfect strangers to travelers. We have already experienced many of these, from funsavers being donated to cash being given. These people deserve recognition although they are most certainly not seeking it. Energy balls bolster our morale and give us the impetus to continue our adventure. They're part of the reason we are on this adventure to begin with.

4) Donations. This refers back to energy balls, but gives people who are not in physical contact with us a chance to donate to our cause. $10 buys us a beer, $30 a meal, $50 buys us a whole day on the road! I would like to install a paypal button on our page that allows people to donate money to us if they would like to. If you would prefer your money not going toward food, drugs and rock and roll, we are very passionate about World Bicyle Relief as a means to give people in developing countries a sustainable way to improve their lives through bicycles. I would like to make it easy for people to link to our donations page through this blog. Also, I would like to be more proactive about furthering our commitment to this cause.

5) Mission statement. I know, it sounds pretty square, but every team needs some sort of stated goal about what they're working toward or else you're just thrashing about. And I dislike thrashing. It's very dangerous for someone as clumsy as me.

6) Miscellaneous Goodies. A map showing where we've been and where we are, a box showing our longest mileage day, a place where we tell people what books we are reading, and as mentioned above a gear review page. Also perhaps an ad or two would help to generate a small amount of moola for the cause.

So, hopefully, with time and perserverance, these tasks will get checked off one by one and our blog will evolve from a random collection of thoughts that pour from my scattered brain to a place with information and entertainment for others who are interested in our plight. Please comment with other suggestions for pages you would like.

A Little Note on Roadside Love

It takes a very long time to travel between places in Alaska. It used to take even longer, and so a multitude of roadhouses existed between the few and far between stopping points. These were places intended just for weary travelers, and the some of the ones that haven't burned down still are. They offer a hot beverage and a place to rest, some have a shower and a camping spot. They are perfect for cyclists. Spaced about 40 miles apart, it is the perfect end to a day to arrive at one of these stopping spots for some real, live Alaskan hospitality. When it's good, there's nothing like it. We stopped at a cafe in Sourdough for our first experience. After being kicked out of the cafe, we realized Sourdough may not be the best place to rest. We moved on, and quickly this one lukewarm experience was rectified by two over the top lovely experiences.

The first was the Gakona historic lodge, about 5 miles past the Gakona junction that starts the long road to Tok. The first thing to realize is that in this region of Alaska there are not towns, there are Census Designated Places. These CDPs have maybe 30-100 people living around them, and are supported by perhaps a gas station and if you're really lucky a bar/restaurant. The Gakona Lodge has just that, and the man who runs it, Greg, is one you would be lucky to meet. Upon seeing us he introduced himself and welcomed us to wait around until he got over to open the bar. We did just that, and after enjoying some delicious cheese sticks and a burger, Greg invited us to pop our tent, free of charge, next to the river. We followed him up on his offer and spent a very pleasant evening sipping from a 6-pack and listening to the Gakona river rush by.

The next day we hit the road after hearing that the next town about 30 miles down the road had a small grocery and a fun to say name - Chistochina (also a CDP). We were also flagged down by a man in a red pick-up who offered us camping at his lodge. When we arrived at the lodge to the delicious news of showers, laundry and a $5 breakfast, we were sold. We were invited to attend this nice man, Richard, to the grocery in his pickup after we set our bikes next to a table in the lawn. The grocery wasn't large, but it wasn't overpriced (everything is relative, remember) and it was clean and friendly. We returned to clean up and cook a large pasta dinner for ourselves. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm...Red Eagle Lodge receives the current first prize for showers in Alaska. The bath house is unequaled in its size and beauty. We went to sleep clean and full, two things that can be rare to an adventure cyclist.

The next morning we tromped in for breakfast and ate, drank cup after cup of coffee, and stayed way past when we really should have left. If any of you have any desire to travel to Alaska, please consider staying in one of the completely reasonably priced cabins at Red Eagle Lodge, they are real cabins that have been redecorated in the most beautiful, cabiny way. Well, we have already stayed too long, so I must be off to search for more roadside love...

How I Learned to Climb Hills

I have a confession. Until about a week ago I had never climbed a major hill on my bicycle. I have another confession. Since I was very young I have been afraid of exercising. It sounds ridiculous, and I'm not sure of the cause, but it may have been linked to a slight case of asthma and a severe case of clumsiness, both of which persist up to this day. I guess I've always linked exercising with that horrible feeling of gasping for breath, lungs feeling as though they have been chopped up with a very small knife, and coughing fits lasting for hours after exertion. It wasn't until I was in college that I realized this was not how everyone felt about exercise. These days I'm in much better shape than I've ever been in and I can't remember the last time I felt like I was effected by my asthma, but the fear remains.

The fear haunts me daily on our trip. Every day as I think of mounting old Betty Blue (aka my bike), I feel a panicky sense in my core that says "What if you can't do it today? What if you get hurt, out of breath, overly fatigued?" The first day of the trip I did feel that way at the end of the day. The second day I felt better, etc. until today, when I feel great! I have had my aches and pains of course, but they usually go away throughout the day, not get worse. My confidence was up.

Some people are afraid of the bears in Denali. I was afraid of the hills. The elevation map looked like a very, very bad day in the stock market, the lowest point at 1500" and the highest at almost 4000" with about four large, steep looking bumps in between. Add to that the fact that it was a dirt road (also something I hadn't ridden on very much), and that road started making appearances in my nightmares and daymares. As the day we would get into the park loomed closer and closer I started to feel myself dragging my feet. Thoughts like "Is this just the dumbest thing to do?" entered my mind. Then the girl at the reservation desk informed me that instead of riding the road in the 20-35 mile days I had imagined, we would have two days to cover the 85 miles of park road. One day we would cycle 35 miles, leaving 50 miles filled with those terrifying passes for the following day. Then we would arrive at Wonder lake, hopefully in one piece, and with both legs still attached. It was do or die, or do and die, so we did it.

The park road was fabulous, and even that first really ugly looking hill didn't finish me off although I snapped at Rusti at one point, "STOP TALKING TO ME, I AM TRYING TO CONCENTRATE ON THIS HILL!" I'm pretty sure that people on foot would have easily passed me trudging up some of those hills, especially when my back tire was spinning out on the gravel, but what I realized is something I already knew: what you put in, you get back out. Every hill has another side - a down side if you will. This down side isn't a downer at all, it's the best part of riding a bike! The views at the tops of the hills were payoff enough - Alaska's rugged landscape laid out before us in every direction like we had our own personal landscape painter - plus we got to coast down the other side of those babies without a care in the world!

I have to say Thank You to Denali for teaching me this valuable lesson, and showing me what I can do. We pulled into Wonder Lake at about 3 am to a perfect view of Denali sporting the pink alpenglow that it is renowned for. Only about 30% of park visitors see the view that we saw, and we saw it as we went down that nice long hill at the end. Previous to that wonderful sight, I was concentrating so hard on pulling up a hill that I almost hit a bear, before I heard Rusti's yells "STOP! KRISTIN! BEAR! STOP!!!!". He didn't even notice us, and neither did the other grizzly we saw foraging outside of the visitor center long after all the other visitors had left. We had the company of a fox up one of the less steep hills, carring a small rodent to her kits. We saw a perfect outline of a bull moose against a pink lake during the everlasting sunset. Sights that visitors riding the 13 hour shuttle buses in and out of the park don't get to see.

So next time you feel intimidated by a seemingly daunting task, remember to take it as it comes. And when you're going up a hill, take your eyes off the road every once in awhile, or else you may run into something large and grizzly!

I am an Adventure Cyclist

It took about four days, but then it clicked. I am an adventure cyclist. Not an athlete, not a traveler, certainly not a tourist or a vacationer, I am an adventure cyclist. I ride my bike on adventures. And Team Krusti does adventure differently than anyone else. We ride our bikes sometimes, but we also do what we always do - eat, drink coffee, tea and beer, watch movies, read, knit, shoot the shit, sleep. We take every moment one at a time and refuse to rush. We talk to people and get the feel of places, and yes, we will have one more cup of coffee or another beer before we hit the road.

That's how we made it to Cantwell, 26 miles outside of Denali. Riding our bikes sometimes and eating cheese fries to fuel us on our way. Now we're headed into the park, so if a bear is interested in us, this may be our last post. We love you all and miss you dearly. Time to adventure on!

Welcome to Rage City!

The thing is that you can't sleep on an plane. It's not part of the deal. You can just sit and squirm with you face pressed against the little plastic window and maybe you'll at least get to see something. I was staring out of the window into the ocean when I noticed the the islands weren't islands at all. And the ocean from which they arose was an ocean of trees. There's a lot of trees in Alaska.

And that's how we found ourselves in the city of Rage, Anchorage that is. Our bikes are in boxes, our panniers are empty. Our stuff is everywhere. The building and packing commences. It never did get dark between the hours of 2 am and 6 am, but only went from twilight to dawn as we contemplated bike parts and clothing. Starving, we stopped at the soonest breakfast restaurant, the City Diner. We tasted our first reindeer sausage and chatted with the first Anchorageites (Anchoragians?) we met.

We found a hostel that allowed camping, and no sooner had we puffed up our sleeping mats and stuffed them into our bag, we fell into a deep, deep sleep for many hours. Awakening to yet more daylight we headed out to explore Anchorage. A friend of a cousin lives in Anchorage and we had met several years back when she visited Colorado. She called as we were heading into town and even though she was planning a wedding, she bought us a round of beers and excitedly informed us of the attractions to be found in Anchorage. Without a second thought she informed us of the time and date of the wedding, and so it was a date!

We had a couple of days to hang out in Anchorage before the wedding, so we stashed our gear and turned our bikes toward the coastal trail that runs about 10 miles around Anchorage. The day was clear and sunny and the biking was perfect. The trail ended at Kincaid park, where we met our first adventure-friend, Matt.

Conversation began because Matt had the same bike as Rusti - all the way down to the Brooks saddle. He was a firefighter, and his wife and kids had been out of town for a month-long camping trip. He invited us to stay at his house on the outskirts of Anchorage. We took his information and continued our ride, picking up some things at REI before stopping at an "authentic Alaskan restaurant" (meaning more reindeer sausage). Around 8:00 Matt called, asking us where we were, he had picked up dinner. Well, he came and picked us up at the restaurant, stashed our bikes on the back of the car, and took us to his nice, cabiny type house outside of Anchorage. After eating second dinner at 11 o'clock at night and chatting for awhile, we hit the sheets. Little did we know Matt had let us sleep in his bed as he slept on the couch. The next day we were treated to lunch in Girdwood after seeing zero belugas at beluga point (the lack of wildlife will turn into a theme of our trip). We beelined it to the church, only to find out the day was Thursday and the wedding was Friday. So we chilled at Matt's - took a hot tub and watched a documentary. (Note: we missed the wedding anyway - we thought it was at 6, it was at 4. We made the reception and had a grand old time). Overall, THANKS MATT!!! What a great introduction to Alaska!

Pre-Adventure Warm-Up

We don't remember whose idea it was to go to the sand dunes. It was one of those half-baked schemes that seem like a good idea at the time, and then the closer it comes the less that good idea seems so good. Other people who had promised, even sworn to come, realized this fact and cancelled their plans, but the bummer about being the person who plans the half-baked scheme is that once you have committed to your plan, you have to follow it to its completion. So, Team Krusti, with 3 days left before the Grand Adventure departed to go camping together before going camping together for the next four months. We called our friends and they were pondering showing up, so we packed up the Miata (remember this, it's important later) for our 5 hour trek down to the dunes. About 3 hours in to our trip, after temperatures hit about 100, we called our dear friends who had left slightly after we did to ask for directions to the dunes.

We should have known to ask someone else when they sent us down highway 69. After driving through the quaint town of Gardner (3 bars, 2 churches, 1 school, no gas), and being informed by the gas station attendant that there was no gas there, but if we were heading over the pass (**sizes up car**" it's a dirt road, you could make it in that") we should find some gas, or at least the dunes, in about 40 miles. I figured we had about 75 left on the tank, so I wasn't too concerned. And that's when our pre-adventure began.

First we took a wrong turn down the wrong, very very rough dirt road that dead-ended at a hiking trail we had taken the year before at the dunes. Choices: hike down to the dunes or turn around and try again. We took the second option because it would have been difficult to carry both the tent and the beer down that trail. So back down the dirt road we went. Another 15 miles down the road was another dirt road, complete with lots of signs about staying off of property and the dangers of bison hunting on private land. We turned on that one. A rougher dirt road. With less gas. In a Mazda Miata. But, thankfully, a tough Mazda Miata. So we roughed it up that road until we saw a sign. The sign had pictures of vehicles that were allowed on the road - an ATV, a dune buggy, something else with large tires and four wheel drive. None of the pictures were of zippy sports cars. So, after a close-to-full-on mental breakdown, we headed back down the dirt road. With less gas. In a Miata. At this point we had not seen a gas station in about 60 miles, we were in the absolute middle of nowhere, and without a clue. Thankfully that's when we met Eldon. Eldon had a big old jalopy truck, a Busch, and a tank of chainsaw gas (she'll smoke a lot, but it won't hurtchyer engine!). Thanks Eldon! We were able to make it another 20-30 miles down the road to the only gas station with gas on that side of the mountains.

As we found out at that gas station, unfortunately the sand dunes were on the other side of those mountains. We had two options. We could backtrack 60 miles the way we came, or we could take the long way there. We opted to backtrack after sipping a beer and eating a sandwich and watching a gorgeous sunset over the mountains, and imagining how beautiful it would be if it was over the dunes. Then we climbed back in the car and backtracked 60 miles before finding the road that actually leads to the Sand Dunes.

Rusti gets behind the wheel to pull her in for the last long haul. It's dark, it's late, we've been driving for 10 hours now. He's cruising along at 65 mph, going over the pass on the other side of the dunes, when all of a sudden the windshield fills with green eyes and a giant head. An elk, felled by a semi in the middle of the road in front of us. Split decision: try to swerve or hit it dead on and hope to catch some air. Rusti went with option 2. And all of a sudden we are airborn over this dead elk. And then we smell it. Eau de Dead Elk all over the bottom of my poor, poor car. But, it seems to be driving alright and we don't seem to be dragging anything, so we pull her on in. Granted, I was in what I would call a terrible mood at that point, and not cheered up by the sight of a giant piece of plastic hanging off underneath my car and every surface covered in elk fur. But, Jenny and Rachel had made it safely, finding different directions since theirs were less than accurate for people not in four-wheelers, and we cracked some beers and made up.

The next day it was really really hot, we went to the dunes for about 2 hours, tried to sleep, it rained in the afternoon, I freaked out because I had wasted 2 of my last days in Colorado far away from my family and kitties, we went to bed early, woke up early, and left the dunes.

So, next time you have an idea, remember to fully bake it. Use a toothpick to make sure it's done. Half baked ideas will waste your time and leave you wondering: why were we acting like such retards?

Soul Searching

This is a shout out to those who shamelessly pursue their dreams and goals and cool ideas. No compromises! The band Ok Go (http://www.okgo.net/media/videos/) has been in my peripheral vision for years, and today I was reintroduced to them and their truly awesome, artistic, uncompromising videos. All in the name of art and entertainment and fun and energy and excitement, man! When your heart is feeling all chewed up and spit out and gray and lumpy from this boring, mean world, I recommend looking these videos up and taking a gander, because they illustrate a sheer disregard for the man. You know, that old white guy who keeps us all down with his "money" and "taxes" and "work ethic."

A year ago I made a pact with Rusti. We would put our heads down and work for a year, we would save everything we made and we would legitimately go on this bike trip with our own moola not begged borrowed or stolen but honestly earned. I have to give credit where credit is due - we have saved almost exactly our rent every month since my father graciously let us stay in a house he owns rent free. Thank heaven for parents. I also have to be thankful for my job as a Lucile's waitress - most likely the best paid waitresses in town. Every 30% tip I've gotten from kind folks who are full and happy off of legitimately delicious, homemade food has gotten us a little closer to our goal, and I am very thankful for that.

Ultimately, however, Team Krusti was not made to work for others. And certainly working 40-60 hours/week for others is WAY too much for us. So, now, we will find our way with our hard-earned cash, spend it frugally and make it last until it runs out so we don't have to do that again!

WE ARE, and so can you!

I must admit that I've been shamefully half-assed with this blog, but that is in the past. I promise...(cough).

I suppose I didn't realize that a blog would be anything complicated, though it turns out nothing comes without effort. If there's something I've learned in the couple years that I've been back in the saddle, it's exactly that. You have to work to get someplace. The world is not flat, its very dynamic, and it will make no concessions to my comfort or well being. When you realize that sometimes it being cold outside, means that you have to be cold and that being tired means that you have endured then it becomes not about the destination, but rather the journey. You have to be present, and you have to keep moving forward.

People of "developing" parts of our Earth are always moving forward, and they have to because they feel the true weight of their disadvantages in a way that you or I seldom do. Poor people have things they need to take care of,  and they can't GET THAT SHIT DONE  if they're walking everywhere. It's a huge problem with a super simple two wheeled solution. It's simple, sustainable, and provides the mechanical advantage that will allow someone access to the resources they need in a timely manner. Let's not kid ourselves, TIME IS MONEY!  Give someone a cookie, they'll eat it, but if you give a person a BICYCLE , they'll just use it to access food, water, medical care, and have the ability to transport goods and provide servies.

It's an immediate quality of life change. People can make money, take care of their families, and be able to obtain an education that they otherwise could not have. Getting this? Bicycles empower people, communities, and economies to GO!

This is where the folks at World Bicycle Relief come into the picture.




Think about it man. We're stuck on this rock together, and from cosmic perspective, if people like Tendai or Rhoda or these lovely gals aren't our brothers and sisters; then who the hell is?

Peace and love

Thankfully, the Wind Will Always Change Directions

The sunshine bike and I are beginning to be acquainted after the first few rides together. There are still some tweaks before we are melded as one, but that's to be expected from any new relationship. After riding a racing specific road bike for the past two years it feels incredibly strange to be in this new, upright position on these huge knobby tires. However, this bike works much better than that bike ever did. The shifting is smoother, the braking more reliable, the seat more comfortable, the tires more versatile. It really is a killer ride.

I am also beginning to realize the weight of this undertaking. Things running through my mind: you've never been on any sort of bicycle tour before, aren't you crazy to do the first one on this large of a scale? What if you aren't in shape enough? You have trouble sometimes riding your bike unloaded, what's going to happen when it's loaded up? You drove to work yesterday instead of riding because it was cold! It's going to be cold a lot of the time on the trip! What if you don't like riding your bike unless it's perfect weather? What will you do then? Huh?!?!

Not exactly productive thoughts, I suppose. I'm trying to keep in mind our 10 day, 70 mile backpacking trip in Chile last year. We weren't in shape, I had never backpacked before, and yet we did it. And we did it pretty well. Yes, I was crying from blister pain for the last few miles, and there were days when we definitely bonked out, but for the most part it was an absolutely beautiful trip that I will never forget. Rusti and I are pretty good at taking things a day at a time and being smart about traveling. He's also very encouraging and not competitive or show offish, which meshes well with my own laid back attitude when it comes to physical prowess.

Another thought I had today: After only 8 more short weeks, I will no longer have to work for at least 3 or 4 months!!!! Since work periodically shifts from bad to worse, that's great news. I will be so happy to be on a bicycle, in the middle of nowhere, hundreds of miles from the nearest idiot. I mean person. Idiots are people too. Or at least I have to act like that for the next 8 weeks. Then you're all on your own!

Sorry for the scattered post, the wind has picked up my thoughts and flung them far.

Sunshine Bike!

(Sorry for the awful picture quality. It's a long, sad, boring story.)

The Sunshine Bike is a cheerful kind of bike, because, really, why oh why would a bike want to look serious? A lot of thought and energy went into the creation and selection of each and every component, from the hand built wheels to the leather saddle. In the future there will be a gear page with all the specs, but for the moment it's enough to say that they all ROCK! Whoever thought a geek like me would own a truly, unequivocally cool bicycle? Too bad Rusti had to go to his "corporate gig" today before he could finish tweaking so I have to wait to ride it until tomorrow, but I have waited long enough and one more day will not kill me. I don't think. I also have some pretty kickass green handlebar tape to throw on there, and will probably employ some yellow water bottle cages to brighten things up a bit. There are fenders to think about as well as panniers, but those will come to us in time.

In other news, how many of you have heard of Team Wonderbike? It's a team that team Krusti is all about - sponsored by New Belgium of beer and bikes fame, Team Wonderbike is working to get more people on their bikes and out of their cars. I emailed them to ask about a badge for the blog and they got back to me right away about supporting our trip. Cool, huh? I'll keep you updated on more about us and them, but in the meantime go and sign up! You get great updates on events they're involved in and you can track the number of miles you ride monthly instead of driving. The address is http://www.newbelgium.com/team-wonderbike. New Belgium has really paved the way for a lot of microbreweries in their approach to community support and a wider cause than simply the delicious, bubbly stuff. Check out their website to learn more, they do new cool stuff every day. www.newbelgium.com.

Well, I guess I'll put my new seat on my old bike and enjoy the rest of this lovely day the best way possible - on two wheels.

Insomniatic Passions

Insomnia isn't what I would call a passion, but it can be very inspirational. While laying (lying? I never learned that grammar rule) in bed, mind racing for no known reason, I began to think of what it means to have passions. Life seems to be a constant search for those little experiences that wake up your enthusiasm. It's impossible to tell what yours may be until you actually take part in it. Every passion is unique to its host, and just because others are passionate about, say, marathon running or snail collecting, does not mean that those activities will speak to anyone else. There is nothing like the thrill that comes from finding and practicing your passions.

For me there is nothing like the distinct euphoric high that good company, wonderful food, and delicious beer conspire to create. Sometimes I feel like this combination could actually be a substitute for morphine, and perhaps I will become addicted to dinner parties. My bicycle is another source of addictive euphoria leading to a dangerously delicious sense of joie de vivre. The smell of fresh air and the thrill of absolute freedom on my bicycle make me beam. The only downside of this smile-inducing thrill is getting bugs stuck in my teeth.

The key with passions, I suppose, is letting them be. It is so tempting to overthink our passions, to complicate them on a constant quest for an even better, more enjoyable experience. Instead, it is important to simply enjoy the enjoyment of the thing that resonates in your soul. Don't try to complicate matters because that euphoria can be a slippery thing that wriggles away when there is too much pressure. So here is to finding and then enjoying our passions, and also to trying new things. Who knows? Maybe your passion is collecting snails, too!

The Weather Outside is Delightful...should that be frightful?

Springtime is finally here. Spring is great because, unlike fall, there is no feeling of dread concerning the upcoming winter, only anticipation for even brighter, longer, warmer days ahead. It's a time to drag your dreary, winterized self out of hibernation and into that blinding, harsh sunlight. That's the idea, at least. This transition is notoriously difficult for me. It seems that every year just as I'm starting to accept the fact that I will never see the sun again and my couch is starting to really break in to that nice ass-shaped dugout that we all strive for, the sun comes out and starts to mock me for staying indoors. Part of me would love to be outside frolicking, but the part that is sort of lazy and likes having an excuse to sit inside and stare blankly at my computer screen is uncomfortable. At least this year we have a very good reason to get outside and show our pasty skin to the world - Alaska!

That's why we have to remember: no excuses, no compromises! We cannot let our moods prevail- we must remember a larger goal! The worst thing would be to get to Alaska and not feel prepared. The training will commence full time this Wednesday when our wheels are done being built! I ended up getting bright yellow disc-only wheels. I didn't really want to commit to disc-only but in the end it was a decision made based on timing and the fact that, really, who wants to go from disc brakes to rim brakes anyway? I've been riding my new Brooks saddle and it is very, very nice. Still a loooooooong way from broken in, but there's nothing like the feel of leather underneath your toosh. Now it's just a matter of getting the wheels, putting it all together, and crossing our fingers for some of that guilt-inducing beautiful spring weather.

It's about time.

Let's get things rolling.