Thursday, May 27, 2010

The Great Hot North

I am in Fairbanks for a brief biking and lounging trip. I was hoping to do a three-day combo dirt/pavement bikepacking trip, but other obligations require that I stay within cell phone range. I decided to come up to Fairbanks anyway to visit some friends and check out the riding around town. My friends think it's a funny destination. "No one in Anchorage comes up to Fairbanks to ride bikes," they told me. It's true that Fairbanks has large, rolling hills instead of craggy mountains, and it's either dusty or boggy with great black clouds of mosquitoes. But then thunderstorms roll in from the south and fill the expansive sky with color, and the rich green birch leaves flutter in the breeze, and the hills roll toward the remote and wild horizons of Alaska's deep Interior. It's a beautiful place. It reminds me of my time riding the Great Divide through southern Montana. I like it here.

The first night I arrived in town, my friend and I sat near the deck chatting away for hours. The sun drifted lazily toward the horizon, casting streaks of bronze light over the tree branches in the yard. A bright sort of twilight followed and then, in an unnoticed span of time that felt like an instant, the hints of light returned. I glanced at the clock. It was well after 2 a.m. Night is a vague dream here, a nearly forgotten place, somewhere far away. It's summer in the North.

On Wednesday I headed out for what was to be a "short" afternoon ride. The temperature was well over 70 degrees, climbing toward 80. I wiped a layer of sweat from my forehead and smiled at the dramatic climate of this place. The last time I visited Fairbanks, it dropped to 25 below zero F, more than 100 degrees colder. That was only two months ago.

I coasted down the long hill from my friend's house and found the trail marker for the Equinox Marathon, a trail marathon that's held every year in the beginning of autumn. I followed the root-clogged doubletrack as it began to climb steeply up the Ester Dome, a deceivingly large "hill" that actually rises nearly 2,000 feet above town. I reached the rounded crest and noticed the rough jeep road dropped down the other side of the dome. I wondered if it connected to the developed road I could see in the far distance. I bounced and swerved down the loose, heavily eroded track, losing an enormous amount of elevation but hoping the road somehow went through to Goldstream Creek, which I envisioned myself crossing in a rush of cold, waist-deep water before reconnecting with the road on the other side. Instead the jeep road dead-ended a ways back from the creek. I pedaled over the berm and began to follow an ever-so-faint hint of singletrack that wended through the trees. The ground was carpeted in dry leaves and strewn with deadfall. After hopping over a minefield of dead birch trees and creeping around alder tangles, I knew that whatever I was following was nothing like a trail, at least not any kind of a summer trail. Still, it was exciting, riding my bike through the woods, letting my GPS make a digital bread-crumb trail to follow back as I pressed deeper and deeper into "uncharted" wilderness. I felt like a biking explorer. I held onto the dream of making my ride a loop for quite a while. But the woods thickened and the ground became more mushy and I was doing a lot more walking than riding. GPS showed that rather than cutting a straight line toward the creek, I had made a big, meandering S back toward Ester Dome. So I surrendered to the out-and-back, and turned to face the looming climb in front of me.

It was a rugged beast of a climb, much steeper and harder than the marathon side of the dome. I sweated and wheezed and really felt like I was somewhere back on the Great Divide, somewhere hot, dusty and difficult, and nowhere near cell phone range. I reached the peak and rocketed down the other side, because I was already running late for the "real" ride that I planned to do with my friend, an evening singletrack ride along a ridge above town. By the time I returned home, my face and arms were crusted in salt, my three-liter Camelback bladder was empty, my GPS had recorded 4,500 feet of climbing over 34 miles, and the sun was still hot and high on the horizon for the two hours of strenuous singletrack biking in front of me. It's manic time. It's summer in the North.

7 comments:

  1. It's a regular shake 'n bake up here this week... glad to have you back in the North, if only for a while.

    ReplyDelete
  2. That jeep trail that drops off the back side of Ester Dome Road does eventually come out behind the mine in Ester, very near the Ester P.O. That is, if you take the correct turns. I used to live up on Ester Dome and frequently MT biked there. A really fun trail (get permission from the AK Ski federation - sign are posted) is to drop the powerline from the top and take the beautiful single track left. This is the same route as the marathon. Stay left and you end up on a dirt road that gets you out, stay right and you end up at the Golden Eagle bar in Ester.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Jill you are making me homesick!! ;) It's ok, I'll be back soon. Glad you got to enjoy Ester Dome! And yes - I swear that biking up that hill is slower than running up it.. hope you make it back to Fairbanks later in the summer..

    -julie

    ReplyDelete
  4. p.s. golden eagle - you gotta go sometime if you didn't!! it's a hole of a place, but entertaining nonetheless!

    ReplyDelete
  5. Anonymous9:06 PM

    That sounds like a great ride..

    ReplyDelete
  6. Wow! Awesome photos - wanna visit Alaska now... itchy feet getting worse the last week.

    ReplyDelete
  7. I think the GHD Destiny will answers those critics and having seen them first hand,pink ghd These include nationally advertised apparel brands such as Nine West, Gap,Abercrombie&Fitch,abercromie and fitch outletEd Hardy makes its presence felt by having embroidered jeans and Capri.ed hardy wholesaleThe embroidered logo at the back of the jeans reflects the true hip hop attitude.wholesale ed hardy During the 1940s, the New York/ Brooklyn Americans folded and the NHL was reduced to only six teams.NHL jerseysIt was in 1955 that the Bruins became the first team to introduce the color gold in their NHL jerseys.NBA jerseysThe NHL jersey is just one example of showing team support and pride when fans buy NHL gear of their favorite team.football jerseysToday there is actually a huge supply of hockey stores on line which all sell quality NHL merchandise.MLB jerseysThey represent all of our NHL heroes that you can only see on ESPN Classics these days.NFL jerseysThey throw on the blue and white New York Rangers jersey from the old days not to celebrate those awesome teams, but because they just don't make jerseys like that now.

    ReplyDelete