Alaska: Day 3

"If God had sufficient wisdom and power

to construct such a beautiful world as this, 

then we must admit that his wisdom and power

are immeasurably greater than that of man, and

hence he is qualified to rule as king."

Orson Pratt

 

It is day 3 and it turns out to be closer to eighty miles rather than the promised 75.    There is a mist of rain in the air.  Or I think that this is the day that with ended with one rider, only half-jokingly, calling the guide a liar.  Despite my best intentions, I find I have not taken enough notes to separate days and happenings well. We have a breakfast buffet and then head to a bike store.  I enjoy the stop but purposefully leave my wallet in the van as I don't need anything.  I see some cat water bottle holders that I photograph and will go on my Christmas wish list, but I am not about to buy and take them home with me. 

 

We van to the ride start which is next to the air force base and are warned NOT to take pictures until we leave the base behind. We stopped briefly at the visitor's center per Don's request, but most of us don't get out. Frankly, there is not much along that strip of road sufficiently breathtaking to cause me to want to stop and get a photograph.  I am finding that my stiffness goes away, but it takes longer for me to warm up than it used to and comes back more quickly.  

 

 We are ready to ride. My legs grow rather tired and sore, but my mind does not.  They scream at me when the ride begins, but then loosen up.  I expect to be slow but I soon find my pace.  Riding is so much easier if you just find your pace and stick with it.  When I try to push too hard, my legs remind me that they can cramp in retaliation if I mistreat them.  I begin to shorten breaks, however, as I can tell I am stiffening more rapidly at stops.  Yes, they would loosen again, but not so easily as if you keep moving.  I think of brevets and begin to think that Steve is right and I could still complete even a long one, but I don't know that I would ever get my brain into the mindset that successful brevet riding requires again.

 

Throughout the day, my mind strays to thoughts of Lloyd, of how he wanted to move here and how much I still miss him.  There is not a day that goes by that I don't think of him and miss his humor and love and wisdom.  I am not sure he would have liked it here as much as he believed that he would.  I remember that he did his basic training in Colorado and hated it, not seeing the beauty of the mountains.  Perhaps, however, that was tied to being young and away from home for the first time combined with the additional stress of a new situation.  Still, I know he loved to be home.  

 

Today's ride is on the Richardson Highway and next to the Tanana River and we will ride to Delta Junction.  It starts with a very gradual climb, the type Dave complains about but are my forte and I find myself singing.  I notice the trees are beginning to shift back from  birches with their gleaming white bark to the green coniferous trees.  I wonder if they are of any use to loggers.  While they are tall, they are slender and would be covered with knotholes from the numerous branches.  I mean to ask Greg, but I forget and the question never gets answered.  I forget so much these days.  

 

I am not sure how many hills there are as I don't bother counting.  Frankly, I will be glad to see mountains  reappear and traffic on the highway to ease and not be so frequent.  There are lots of large, eighteen wheel trucks, constructed in a way that I don't see at home.  We later learn that they are hauling ore from the mines.  We will see them today and tomorrow and then no more.  Anyway, Rob says there were five climbs.  My personal preference was that there were a few good downhills, something that have been in short supply.  Compared to some of the challenging hills at  home, I don't consider any of them particularly difficult.  I have been surprised and a bit relieved at times. I suspect that we are being ferried over some of the more demanding climbs, but perhaps that is an illusion.  

 

We have lunch near a lake that has ducks on it and what appear to be lily pads, something I would not have expected here.  It is quite lovely.  We panic a bit when it appears one duck has a string caught around his mouth, but we soon see he can still open his mouth.   Everything is just so beautiful, and I try to remember to be thankful.  I think for awhile about how different places have different types of resplendence and wonder and yet how everything fits together in a way that my pea brain can't take in.  When we disturb the balance, there are consequences that we often don't ever correlate with the change we made.  I am thankful that I believe in a creator who does understand.  

After lunch, we reach a point where we have to shuttle across a construction site.  Unlike here, where the construction workers tell you to find another way around or wave you on urging you to ride with caution, they use their truck to carry you and your bicycle and they lead the way for cars needing to go that direction.  Larry and Rob buddy up and go first.  Dave and I wait.  I watch Dave as he makes friends with the flag man and smile inside at how friendly he is and his conversational skills.  What he is doing would be extremely taxing for me.  It takes quite awhile but finally it is our turn.  The ones behind us decide to put their bikes on the van to make the crossing as the van has caught up after being trapped behind fixing a flat for Ron.  

 

I continue to be amazed at the lack of wildlife and how I see more at home.  I have seen two dead porcupines on the road and a few magpies, but no moose, caribou, or any other creature I associate with Alaska.  

 

Before we reach the hotel, we reach another spot which is gravel but which they are not currently working on so we ride through it.  I am with Rob and Larry.  There are lots of pot holes and yet again I am glad I did not bring my own bike.  I feel filthy when we reach the motel at Delta Junction and want to shower.  I get my room key and find my shower does not seem to be working.  Wearily, I go to the front desk who says they will send maintenance.  He arrives in time for me to get a shower before dinner, but barely.  He tells me the last person in the room just took a cold shower.  I tell him in  no uncertain terms that I am NOT taking a cold shower.  He hands me written instructions and I am able to get hot water though it alternates between scalding and cold.  

 

Dinner is just a walk across the road and was decent if not wonderful.  In the food contest, Scotland wins hands down.  But it is not distasteful.  I am tired though  and glad when I can finally return to my room and sleep.  Tomorrow is a shorter day allegedly, only 68 miles.