Eklutna Lake Campground >> Palmer >> Hope >> Cook Inlet/Kenai >> Homer Spit
512 miles ridden/13.5 hours
It’s raining today – surprise! – so I’m heading back to Palmer to shower and wash my clothes; I may camp there tonight or push on to Hope if the weather clears. And while it might seem odd to backtrack 20 miles to do laundry, there was other motivation afoot: I’d passed a Taco Bell in Palmer and hadn’t yet indulged my inexplicable weakness for mediocre Mexican-inspired fare and now was as good a time as any to make a run for the border. Man cannot live on Clif bars alone, after all…
Chores finished and the guilty pleasure of fast food fulfilled, I headed south around 4p during a break in the drizzle. As I neared Anchorage, traffic essentially came to a standstill, although things didn’t look any better for those going north: the highway had become a parking lot. Anyone planning a trip through Alaska should be sure to time it so they aren’t trying to travel past Anchorage at 6-7p on a Sunday. And since I was moving only a couple of feet every few minutes, it naturally started raining again.
At the Hope campground, I met a couple from Louisiana – Lane and his wife, Rhonda – who invited me to have dinner with their niece and her fiancée, who live in New York. Lane and Rhonda had already been on the road a few weeks, but Rhonda’s sister was sick so they were cutting their trip short and heading back to the Pelican State at daybreak. Very nice people; offered me tons of info on things to do and see in Seward and Homer.
The next day was a rough one. Slept in my full suit last night to stay warm and dry, and still quite beat. Woke up to more rain; packed a wet tent and sleeping bag, and was getting attacked by mosquitos putting it all on the bike. Finally realized I could put my sleeping bag in my 2nd laundry bag to keep it kind of dry. Detoured to the Cook Inlet in Kenai; couldn’t understand what the attraction was…
Despite it being nighttime and relatively dark (and raining), I followed Lane’s advice and took Diamond Ridge Lane/Skyline Drive into Homer. Because of the humidity in the air and the fact that I was driving so slowly on this curvy, cliff-side road – for once following the posted 15mph speed limit – my breath was fogging up my helmet. And when I opened the faceshield to let in air, rain would pour in, obscuring both the inside and outside of not only the faceshield but my glasses as well. Just what you need when you’re navigating a strange, serpentine road in the dark, right?
To add to that, my gloves were soaked and I was mentally spent from being on the bike all day; it was 11pm or later at this point. I felt like I was about to have a breakdown (mental, not mechanical). This road – one hairpin turn after another – beautiful and fun on a dry, sunny day I’m sure, would give Lombard Street in San Francisco a run for its money. But in the dark, with foggy glasses, a foggy helmet, and somewhat foggy head, it was a nightmare.
Miraculously, I made it into town and out onto the spit in one miserable piece. I set my tent up in the rain and was feeling lower than first gear when it stopped raining. This, you’d think, would have cheered me up, but it had the opposite effect: I began stewing in my own bile.
Thunderclouds erupting in my head, I turned back to my bike to unpack the rest of my belongings when the view across Kachemak Bay struck me with the force of an uppercut. Flat moonlight illuminated the mountains that filled the horizon across the water; I was in awe of nature’s beauty. Suddenly all my worries and troubles were moot, the pity party was over. Right then I decided to make my first unscheduled stop of the trip and hang out on the Homer Spit for a few days.
