A Look Back: Alone With My Thoughts in Denali

This post in the "A Look Back" series takes me back to one of my most vivid memories of the two years I lived in Alaska - the day before what I planned to be an epic-at-the-time adventure. I was an outdoor n00b living in an outdoor adventurer's paradise, Denali National Park in the summer, and planned to take full advantage. This is an excerpt from the journal I kept while I was there.

sunset on the Healy Range, Denali National Park, 2006.

this place. this wonderful place. this wide expanse of enthralling beauty, so much beauty i could cry, so much beauty i can hardly believe it truly exists. i'd seen the pictures just like everyone else, but i never anticipated this feeling of wonder and excitement just from gazing out my window as the slightly setting sun hits distant ridges i might be lucky enough to stand on. despite the sun that never sets, snow stays unmelted on the highest peaks and in rock crevices that never feel its warmth. i want to see it all. and it's all mine. it's my own giant playground.

i'm waking up, stretching my legs, and realizing the world as i knew it has changed. it's surreal. this place is altering my consciousness every minute of every day. i'm going out into the wilderness alone tomorrow for the first time, my first solo camping trip, and i'm so scared-excited. i'm going out on my own because i can. because it's there. because i want to experience silence.

the sun's turned Mount Healy an impossibly fluorescent shade of pink. an Alaskan sunset - the absence of the actual disappearance of the sun over the horizon, but rather defined by the vibrant colors and shadows it brings while the larger inhabited part of this hemisphere is dark. it's almost midnight and i can still see every tree, clear as day, clear as i will seven hours from now when i pull myself out of bed for my little adventure. Sanctuary Creek, where i'm headed, we'll see if it's actually a sanctuary. it sure looks like one. and sounds like one.

a self portrait on the Denali Park Road at Sactuary Creek, 2006.

i fit a tent, sleeping bag, food, a map, two nalgenes and other mini-essentials into the North Face Slingshot backpack i used to take to class every day. tent pegs and extra clothes are tied to my unbelievably heavy mountain bike frame. i'm hoping i'll actually be able to pedal. i'll catch a camper bus to mile 22 on the park road, set up my little tent, and just be. for a day, a night, and another day.

tomorrow, i'll leave it all behind. i will just be. i will exist, Denali will exist, and that will be enough.

Embarrassing as this is to admit, my not-so-badass self and I didn't spend the night out in Denali National Park. I set up the tent as planned, went on a hike and came back to make dinner. At that point, I realized I was alone, and lonely. At 22, being alone with my thoughts was a little much. I wasn't scared, just lonely. Time passed so slowly, and I realize now I just wasn't ready to be completely alone with myself, yet. I packed up my 30 pounds of gear after seven or eight hours out there, saddled up and biked the 22 miles back to the park entrance. I'd never biked that far in my life. The park road is hilly, long, and mostly gravel. I made it back in the middle of the night, sore and slightly defeated, but optimistic. I look back at this and smile because that trip seems so small and silly now, but it was such a big deal then!

Don't Feed Wildlife! (Even if it's Little.)

Ar Arctic Ground Squirrel poses in Denali.

I came across this article on twitter last night via @parkstraveler about the euthanization of yet another bear in Yellowstone National Park. She'd learned to associate the presence of people with the availability of food, and had become aggressive in her attempts to get it from them. This included venturing into a backcountry campsite and forcing a backpacker to give up his dinner. Five bears have been killed in Yellowstone this year, and the other most recent killing was through euthanization in June. It's depressing.


Those of us who enjoy the outdoors and wild places have a responsibility to protect them, and to leave them as we found them. This doesn't just mean avoiding tromping all over vegetation by venturing off established trails. It doesn't just mean disposing of the plastic water bottles or granola bar wrappers you use properly. It means having an inherent sense of respect for the outdoors, its inhabitants, and for others who revel in its beauty.

One of the best ways to see Denali National Park in the summer if you're short on time is through the Visitor Transportation System. There's one 92-mile road into Denali, only 15 miles of it are paved, and non-commercial vehicles are only allowed on the paved portion. The shuttle and tour busses, aside from human power, are your only option for park road travel. Tour bus drivers are certified driver-naturalists who can provide in-depth information about the park, its history, and its inhabitants.

With two full summers living in Denali, I had plenty of time to explore, but will never forget my first bus trip into the park. I was on a green shuttle bus bound for my first real Denali hike with new friend Emily. As the bus lurched forward and pulled on to the park road, one of the first things our driver made sure we knew was the importance of respecting wildlife. He told us he'd be glad to help us spot moose, bears, dall sheep, anything we could find, as long as we promised to be quiet, and to keep arms and cameras inside the bus. The wildlife, he told us, needed to be protected, and the best way to do that was to make sure our presence didn't affect them in any way. I was astounded that even an excited shout to other bus passengers could affect an animal.

Dall Sheep on the park road in autumn

One of the seven Leave No Trace principles is to respect wildlife. The article doesn't make it clear as to how the bear might have become so used to getting human food, but it's pretty unlikely visitors were hand-feeding her. Proper backcountry food storage and waste disposal are vital. Parks like Denali require all backcountry campers to carry food and other items that animals might mistake as food (toothpaste, deodorant, cough drops) in bear-resistant canisters. Campgrounds in Denali have bear-proof lockers and sheds for campers to store items in. It's as much for our own safety as it is for the animals.

We have to remember that we're visitors to their home, and approaching them for a better photo or a closer look can be incredibly stressful to them. If we're able to enjoy the outdoors without affecting its inhabitants, we'll all be much better off, and euthanized bear stories may be fewer and further between. The Leave No Trace website has some great resources on education and ways to minimize your impact on the outdoors, check 'em out!

Counting Bikes with the Bicycle Coalition

I endeavor to be the type of individual who complains, both externally and in my own head, about things wrong with the universe, and then does something about them. The universe is a big place and I haven't been particularly successful so far in taking action regarding the things I complain about. Perhaps I should just complain less?

Regardless, one of the things I outwardly complain most about, at least lately, has been the behavior of cyclists, pedestrians and motorists, and how we can't seem to get along. Whether it's motorists accusing cyclists of disobeying traffic laws, cyclists accusing motorists of trying to run them down, or pedestrians accusing both cyclists and motorists of making sidewalks and crossings unsafe, there's an obvious conflict that often leaves members of all three parties disdainful towards each other. The conflict seems to be escalating and gaining greater notoriety as the number of bike lanes and cyclists on city streets grows. According to the 2008 American Community Survey, Philly has the highest number of bike riding commuters among America's ten largest cities.

Philly isn't the only city facing bike commuting and cycling growing pains, but because it's where I live and ride, I about what happens here. There's one particularly incredible organization I discovered this spring that's made incredible strides towards making biking Philly's city streets better: the Bicycle Coalition of Greater Philadelphia (BCGP). They've been in existence since 1972, and their most recent success came with the installation of pilot bike lanes on Spruce and Pine Streets in conjunction with city and community organizations. They've also received quite a bit of press here in town, winning Best of Philly: Volunteering in 2009 and recognition for planning and design from CityPaper.

I could go on for days about the merits of the organization, but I'll spare you, and instead regale you with tales of my first BCGP volunteering experience. Of course, I found out about the opportunity through twitter, where you can find members of BCGP under the handle @bikeambassadors and @bcgp. BCGP has a million different opportunities for volunteering, and I chose to participate in bike counts as my first volunteering event with the organization.

Essentially, my job was to stand at the intersection of Broad and Chestnut Streets from 7:30-9:00am one day this week and observe:

• the number of north and southbound cyclists
• the number of east and westbound cyclists
• the cyclists' gender
• whether cyclists were wearing helmets or not
• whether cyclists were riding on the sidewalk or on the street

This morning was one of the coldest mornings we've had this autumn; the highest temperature I recorded was 43º. But still, I counted a total of 105 cyclists in my assigned 90 minutes. A quick breakdown of what I counted:

• 75% of riders were male
  
• 39% of riders wearing helmets (52% of women riders, 35% of male)
  
• 25% of riders were on the sidewalk

It was interesting - neither of these two streets have bike lanes, and are both extremely busy in the morning. I'd love to see results from less crowded streets, during different times of day, and on days that were warmer. I'd also love to track the number of cyclists who disobey traffic laws. I only counted two who ran red lights, but given the amount of opposing traffic during those hours, it made running lights impossible.

Keep track of what the BCGP is up to on their blog, website, and on twitter, and if you live in Philly, get involved!

Bike MS City to Shore 2009 - the Ups and Downs

My brother, Aaron and I at the finish line in Ocean City, NJ!

I'm sitting at my computer surrounded by tissues and half-consumed cups of tea. I wish I were able to write about having just completed 150 miles of biking for the Bike MS City to Shore ride, something I've been looking forward to for months, but unfortunately, that's not the case. It just goes to show being extremely stressed, overtired and underslept can really take its toll, often at the worst possible time.

I finished a ginormous project for work on Friday having spent the past several weeks working nights and weekends to make sure it was perfect. Needless to say, I've been pretty stressed lately. That amount of stress can compromise your immune system. When I woke up Friday morning to head to work, I remember thinking, "Oh no, I can't be getting sick!"


Despite a gallon of orange juice, echinacea and rest, I woke up in the middle of the night Friday with a 100º fever. My brother was fast asleep on the couch, having driven in that night so we could take the PATCO train to the City to Shore start together Saturday morning. I took a bit of Motrin to fight the fever and tried to sleep it off. I woke at 5am as planned; my temperature was down to 99º, but in the process, I got a migraine. Aaron and I headed out to the start of the ride, hopeful that I'd miraculously feel better.

By the time we got to the start, the migraine-associated nausea was kicking in, and I had doubts about being able to ride at all. But I thought, "I'm already here, I really really want to do this, and I don't want to let everyone who supported me down." So Aaron and I were off just after 7:30am en route to Ocean City, 79 miles away.

This ride was important to me for a number of reasons. First, it's for an incredible cause. And the more I prepared for the ride, the more people I learned had been directly or indirectly affected by the disease. Second, I met my fundraising goal of $1,000 the day before the ride. So many incredible friends and family supported me in my efforts, and I can't thank all of you enough! Third, it was a chance to do something with my really amazing little brother. I'd planned to ride with his company's team, and was so looking forward to doing the ride with him. And finally, it's a loooong bike ride, and an incredible physical challenge. If there's any kind of physical challenge involved, you can bet I'll be into it!

Aaron on the road!

The ride ended up being an incredible experience, just as I'd hoped. the 79 mile course wound through beautiful New Jersey countryside, through small towns, and around parts of the state I didn't know existed. The ride was extraordinarily well supported and organized. All the holes in the road had been circled with orange spray paint to help us pick them out. Volunteers were cheering for us the whole way, and it was inspiring to look ahead of me down the road at a wave of brightly colored jerseys for the entire route.

At the five rest stops, volunteers handed out water and snacks. I had a handful of other friends doing the ride, and ended up running into all of them. Out of the 7,000 riders, I thought it was pretty neat I was able to find them all! The support my brother provided was absolutely incredible. He stuck with me the entire ride and made sure I was alright. Granted it was an extremely uncomfortable day for me, being able to do it with him, and to participate in the ride at all, was enough to keep me going. Even the ridiculous downpour at mile 50 wasn't enough to get us down!

By the time we got to Ocean City after 7 hours on the course, five on the bike, I was completely out of energy, but absolutely elated. I've never been so happy to get to the Jersey shore! The finish line festival was great. All the riders got medals and t shirts, hot dogs and pierogies, and they had a live band playing. It was a really fun way to end the day, and the entire event seemed to go off without a hitch. The whole team found their luggage, which had been shipped to the finish line by truck during the day, and headed off to the house they'd all spend the night in before riding back the next day. The 79 miles that day would be all I'd manage for this year's City to Shore. I jumped on a bus provided for riders who only planned to do half of the ride, and made it home just after 6pm.

I was so disappointed I couldn't do the whole thing, and still feel, to an extent, that I let my supporters down a bit. I wish I'd been able to complete it. I hadn't been sick in so long, it was so disappointing to have the illness hit when I really needed to be healthy. But I learned the consequences of not managing my stress and not taking care of myself the hard way, and I'm so incredibly thankful I had the opportunity to participate at all. Guess that means I'll have to give it another go next year! Congratulations to everyone who participated!

Bikes, Cars, People, Can't We All Just Share?

My pretty car back in Denali when she had Alaska plates.

Although some might be tiring of all the talk about cycling and road-sharing, I figured I would add my two cents into the proverbial piggy bank. There's a lot more to say on this issue, as there usually is on most hot topics, but the subject of road sharing has become particularly prevalent in my life these days.

According to the Philadelphia City Paper's recent cover story, Biketopia, the number of cyclists in Philadelphia has doubled in three years, and I can see why. Cars are expensive and a royal pain in the rear end to keep in the city. I have a car, and I love her. But I definitely do not love fighting with other Fitler Square residents for parking spaces, or with the PPA to keep my car in the space without tickets or towing. I refuse to move my car from a safe spot unless my life depends on it. Not to mention the blood pressure spikes I experience trying to drive around the city; the use of turn signals is never required, lane changing without looking is a given, and forget trying to get anywhere during rush hour.

So, when I go to the rock gym, a friend's house, any location more than ten blocks from which I don't have to carry anything huge, I'll consider using my bike. That opens up a whole new can of worms.
 
I firmly believe drivers should be able to share the road in a friendly, efficient, safe manner. In a perfect world, every road in Philadelphia would have a bike lane, but right now there is no real network of bike lanes in the city. Lanes will begin and abruptly end. There are lanes on roads that don't need them, and no lanes on roads that are in desperate need of them. People seem generally incapable of running two lanes of traffic on Pine and Spruce consistently, at least somewhat attributable to the width of the road, why not put a bike lane there instead?

A bike lane on Columbus Ave is useless to me - drivers speed past at 50mph, there's no way I'm sitting on a bike in that kind of environment. On numerous occasions, I've had cars take the exit off Columbus up to Market Street, which involves crossing a bike lane, and not notice I'm there. There are also no Center City bike lanes that run east/west. I've seen cars, especially cabs, block bike lanes on purpose. People use them as an extended shoulder for parking. Drivers need to accept the fact that cyclists are here to stay, and rather than revving engines or speeding past cyclists on roads without bike lanes, they should help cyclists stay safe.

Friends (with helmets!) on the Ben Franklin Bridge, bikes in hand! (M. Pierwola)

I more firmly believe cyclists should be able to share the road in a friendly, efficient, safe manner. On the way to the rock gym last night, I almost witnessed a serious accident between a cyclist and a cab. Three cyclists were riding east on Pine Street, helmetless. One fell a bit behind, and in an effort to catch up, ran a red light and almost got slammed into the pavement by a cab driver. I can't imagine the guy would've survived being hit by a car going 30mph without a helmet. Although I'm guilty of this as well, there is absolutely no good reason why, as a cyclist, you should disobey traffic signals. I won't even enter in to the helmet debate here. And, while I'm at it, why on earth is there a helmet debate?

I would argue that a large part of the reason why drivers hate cyclists is because they ride on streets with cars, expect to be respected and treated like cars, but don't behave like cars. As both a driver and a biker, I get extremely angry when I see cyclists weaving in and out of traffic and speeding past cars stopped at traffic lights. True, getting on a bike means using your own pedal power to get somewhere, and it takes you longer to ride one block than it does a car to drive the same distance. But is running a red light or stop sign, rather than waiting like all the other vehicles on the road, really worth it?


A good friend told me last night he'd read or heard that our brains are so trained to look for other motor vehicles at intersections that we don't even bother to look for cyclists. Our eyes are trained to see large moving objects, not the small ones, when we're driving. Both cyclists and drivers should be aware of this, and make a more concerted effort to watch out for each other.

In a really ideal, really perfect world, we'd be able to model our cities after places like Amsterdam, and other forward-thinking places that have realized the importance of planning around non-motorized and public transportation. We would have bike paths and lanes that connect the entire country, or at least a major metropolitan area. Cyclists would be well respected, and cycling would be recognized as an efficient, healthy, environmentally friendly way to get around. But until then, we're just going to have to share.