West Coast ESD cycle

Marney Forest Limes

2009-09-04T19:43:00.000-07:00

With the temptation of seeing Elizabeth and Paul's farm, spending some more time with the lovely Flower family and being in the midst of amotorhead car rally, Uwe and I decided to have a rest day after only 1.5 days of riding (very hilly, though).

After a lazy breakfast with the family, Paul took us out to the property first in their ancient Volvo, with working dogs eminating a strong odour from the back and then in the back tray of the Landcruiser ute mostly swept free of evidence from the last passengers - a couple of cows.

The Flower Farm (or Marney's Forest), has been managed organically for some time and has recently received organic certification. Land not used for crops or cattle has been left to regenerate and it has done a surprisingly efficient job. A hillside bare in Paul's childhood is now a substantial young forest.

Our work for the day (though not under great pressure) was to work along the rows of organic Tahitian limes on the east-facing slopes of the upper farm and pick the fruit for the next delivery to Food Connect in Brisbane. It was surprising to see how the fertility of the trees varied so much - some with branches weighed right down to the ground and others with little to pick. Recent frosts had turned many limes golden on one side making them difficult to sell in the mainstream market but fine for more open-minded Food Connect subscribers.

The lime grove is circled by dingo fencing to protect its grazers and weed controllers (young emus and self-shedding sheep) from these native hazards. The sheep were elusive but the emus were very inquisitive, especially with grain around (see photo above). Emus are extremely efficient eaters of broad-leafed weeds and the sheep of the fast-growing grass, normally controlled by toxic Roundup. And they fertilise as they go!

Back at the grand old family home in Kyogle, we revived ourselves with the divine Marney Forest lime cordial, destined to be a hit through Food Connect and health food stores, and later set to work hand polishing each lime with a cloth, ready for shipment. It was nice to know that the limes we picked would be enjoyed by many of my friends when they collect their fruit boxes next week.

Across the range to Kyogle

2009-09-02T17:09:00.000-07:00

For a description of the ride to Bellingen until I find the time to indulge in writing about the beautiful trip, go to the cycle touring summary at wetpaint

On the road again

2009-08-29T16:52:00.000-07:00

I'm back in Australia safe and sound and happy to be home despite still having strong wanderlust. My bike survived the two flights home, thanks to the meticulous packing by Walnut Creek Robert and beautiful box decorating by Jennifer, Irby and Victoria.

When I discovered last month that I couldn't extend my stay in north America, I decided that if work was still quiet (it is), I'd extend my adventurings on my own home turf by cycling in an area I'd always meant to - northern New South Wales. This coincided perfectly with Uwe's arrival. A German cyclist, who I met briefly at the hostel near Jasper, Uwe wanted to cycle from Brisbane to Sydney on his brief visit to Australia. What better excuse than to play local guide to an equally fit cycle tourer ...and he might provide some diversion for the territorial, nesting magpies along the road!

I've got just over a week before I want to be home in Brisbane and hope to reach beloved Bellingen, near Coffs Harbour before I have to turn around.

I made it!!! 4600km cycling from Fairbanks to Eugene, tired but ready to celebrate

2009-08-22T18:34:00.001-07:00

You might just make out the numbers on my bike computer above - 4500km this morning.

At 5ish, after what seemed like almost a whole day of climbing or headwind (6.5 hours pedalling), from the Oregon Coast, I cruised into town along one of Eugene's waterway cycle paths with a mixture of sadness, relief and pride. I've never cycled so far in one trip before - 4600km (or less impressive sounding 2,760 miles)!!! My body could do that again....after a few day's rest from the last two epic days (153 km and 130km) but a slow train to San Francisco and a long flight home soon after will probably be welcomed by my muscles.

Random tally:

Hours in the saddle - 242 hours (based on guestimate of 19 km/h average, which gradually increased)
Cohousing visited - 8 in USA and Canada and hopefully another to come in Oakland
Punctures - 5
Tyres - 1
Swiss army knife - 1 - left on roadside at dinner stop in Alaska
Lots of wildlife - big and hairy or blubbery and small with feathers or scales
Coconut oil chain lube - survived 1200km on one application with 4 days and nights of drizzle and rain
Tangoed in San Francisco, Vancouver, Victoria, Portland and perhaps tonight in Eugene

I found a great cafe venue to end my journey in - Cosmic Pizza and Theo's - organic vegetarian pizza, drinks and internet - to recharge my body and my touch with friends and family. I will endeavour to fill in the gaps in my blog over the next few days and weeks and will have a few more to come about my last few days in the US. I have a welcome party of at least three on the 24th at the train platform to be followed by a celebratory breakfast and a ride over the Golden Gate Bridge.

Columbia Gorge 18th August 2009

2009-08-20T12:30:00.000-07:00

Riding along Columbia Gorge to the east of Portland had some appeal but on a hot day and with time running out before our bus to the coast, Toni and I had a car tour up through the mountains around the west of Mount Hood, through some great forest (not all logged forestry monoculture) past a lake warranting more than a drive-by, tranquil Timothy Lake, where the crayfish are famous and people boat and swim.

The winding forestry roads would make for fantastic cycle touring. They are barely one lane wide but traffic is rare and the views into the forest and to the dramatic Mount Hood make the sweat worthwhile. Descending to the Columbia Gorge, if I'd been on my bike I would have gorged myself on the fruit from heavily-laden trees - pears, peaches, nectarines and berries - as well as the wild ones growing on the roadside.

Unfamiliar with long-distance car travel, I found myself dozing off often and was sluggish when we stopped to hop out and photograph the many sights. We saw salmon swimming up the fish ladders and past the underwater fish windows at the Bonneville Dam hydroelectric station, saw rainbow trout breeding amongst immaculately kept gardens and historic buildings and found lunch at the historic Multnomah Falls, another lodge created in the Great Depression time.

Our last main stop was the Crown Point Vista House, a grand octagonal stone building constructed on a dramatic point of rock way above (733 feet) the broad Columbia River. With elaborately swirled window glass, stone and plasterwork, it fell into disrepair and was vandalised but now, restored is a popular stopover, as originally intended (also was built as an observatory). The building is listed on the National Register of Historic Places and in the National Geographic Society’s 2001 “Save America’s Treasures” book.

Although the road was fantastically scenic and travelling by bike would have offered more opportunities to stop and enjoy the views, I felt very safe in the car. The road is extremely narrow and is very popular with big vehicles, like the mucle truck we were in.

Pam and John got us to the train station in time to secure our bikes and luggage for the bus ride with time to spare to share a final drop at the Noble Rot.....

Timberline Lodge, Mount Hood

2009-08-20T12:21:00.000-07:00

I just visited one of the most fantastic building projects on my travels - Timberline Lodge, one of the US's National Historic Landmarks, on the flank of Mount Hood. With crystal clear skies and views way beyond distant Mount Jefferson and the Sisters beyond (see above), it was the perfect day for a visit to this amazing, creative and inspiring solution for severe unemployment during the great depression. The building is like a piece of elaborate jewellery. Everywhere you look, inside and outside, there are encrustrations of tastefully crafted elements - carvings, mosaic tiles, textiles, ironwork, stone, glass.An initiative of Franklin D. Roosevelt, under the Works Progress Administration, Timberline Lodge was a breakaway from the bridges, roads, dams and other major public works of this government section. Construction of the ski lodge created jobs for artists, designers and carpenters and the project was completed ahead of schedule in 12 months from breaking ground (involved digging down through over 2 metres of snow first) to final curtain hanging. All workers, of average age of 56, were paid 90cents/hour and worked 4 weeks at a time on the remote site, throughout the year until the building was completed in 1937, for US$1 million.

Thanks to the guiding hand of head designer, Marjory Hoffman Smith, all materials for the construction and decoration of the building were sourced from within a 500 mile radius. Marjory was also responsible for tying all of the trades together - stone masons, carpenters (who learnt new skills of carving, furniture-making and woodworking on the job), blacksmiths (Mr Dawson and his wheelchair-bound coworker), weavers, artists. Everything for the building was created by hand - the furniture, light fittings, locks and hardware, upholstery and curtain fabric (hand woven or appliqued), rugs and carpets, timber shingles....

Watercolour paintings of wildflowers within a 1 mile radius of the building inspired the internal colour schemes. Unique painting on carved linoleum form wall panelling in one of the large meeting rooms. In the Blue Ox Bar, originally destined for wood storage but much more appropriately a cosy subterranean drinking hole, colourful glass murals line the walls designed by a woman artist.

Maybe we can talk to Kevin (Rudd, our PM) about building creative structures employing all talents - architects, designers, textile artists (weavers and rug makers), blacksmiths, artists, carpenters, wood carvers and furniture makers - instead of more highways as job creation in difficult times.
Having walked up the mountainside for a view over the roofs, to see the wildflowers and watch skiiers descend the small remaining snowed gully, we returned to the Ram's Head Bar on the upper floor of the double-height central dining/lounge space for a delicious early dinner and drinks. The main central space is of such a massive scale. Timber poles and beams and the central stone fireplace column made me feel like a hobbit. Here is the link to the slide show of my photos

If you fancy a stay at this great spot, check out their website

Toni, my new cycling chum, arranged to meet her blacksmith friends up there who have worked on some of the metalwork reconstruction and new works who gave us a more personal and fun tour of the grand building. There was a week long blacksmithing event in the nearby town of Government Camp so it was perfect timing. Lisa and Andy are a young blacksmithing couple, recently released from apprenticeships with star blacksmith, Darryl (the lodge's head smith), and now have their own business, Firelight Forge - http://firelightforge.com/.

Off to Portland via the Columbia river tomorrow (in the mega truck) to catch a bus back to Astoria to resume the ride south. I've got a train booked from Eugene so I wont even get to tip my toe over the border into northern California, but I will catch my flight home before my visa expires. I hope Toni can keep up with my tight schedule. She's been enjoying lots of time off the bike and is a little worried about the rumours of steep undulations along the stunning (so we've been told) coast.

Beauty at Nehalem

2009-08-19T14:29:00.000-07:00

Some time along a grimy, roughing-it bicycling journey, a girl likes a bit of pampering. With the extra motivation of turning one year older but not wanting to feel or look it, a particularly woolly head of hair, some birthday money in the bank from Mum and my sister and being in female company, Toni and I checked in to Mirror Images Hairdressing, under the care of platinum blonde, Vicki, and her side kick, Pam.

Amidst a large space encrusted with Marilyn Monroes - magnets, posters, photos, glazed porcelain and a road sign, I was sat in an historic (and very comfy) barber's chair, quietly awaiting its next victim.

I'd been happy with my raggedy bob - a collaborative effort between a cautious hairdresser nervous about too dramatic a cut on elbow-length hair, and my friend Matt, unqualified as a hairdresser but skilled as a woodworker and cabinetmaker. What I'd hoped for from Vicki, was a shampoo, scalp massage and hip trim but what I got was something that made her coo with delight and me to hide my grimace at my new hairdo's niceness and conventionalism. Toni had the same battle on the other side of the big, central mirror. We both wanted more jagged styles - must be an architect thing.

I also decided to indulge in an eyelash tint to save on mascara, which can run in warm moments of tango or hot weather. Warning bells should have rung when Vicki kept saying "eyebrown tint" instead of eyelash. It soon became evident that she'd never done eyelashes before. What I ended up with was a permanent version of the running mascara. I ended up with lower eyelids and a few token eyelash hairs (maybe 5?) stained a soft brown.

Toni and I left Mirror Images feeling sleeker, tidier and only slightly lighter of pocket and more amused and delighted by the experience in the hairdresser than with our new looks. A few days later in Eugene, my sleek new 'do' fitted in perfectly on the tango dance floor. Neat bobs seemed all the rage in the younger tango-dancing scene. Noone could match my lashes and lids, though.

Big camper

2009-08-16T23:20:00.001-07:00

John and Pam, Toni's Florida friends, sold their home and have spent 16 months so far, roving around the nation, seeking a new place to live. Their mode of transport is a bit bigger than mine - a mega Fifth Wheel - one of those enormous caravan trailers that lands in the middle of the truck trailer. I've wanted to go inside one since I first saw them in Alaska and here I am, surrounded by polished timber floor, rugs, ceiling fan, dining niche and sitting nook, large double bedroom and decent kitchen... and shower and vanity and toilet! With electric lights, gas cooker, big fridge and underfloor heating their home is fully equipped. It certainly doesn't feel anything like a caravan interior. Must have some Dr Who tardis technology.

The Fifth Wheel is quite a difference in weight to move around- 120kg of me, bike and luggage vs 17000 lbs with 8000lb vehicle (about 12,000kg). Having had some bad weather through Washington, I have to admit I can see some of the appeal of all comforts under a decent roof!

Below is a photo of transport and all gear needed for two cycle tourers to travel for 3 months and the truck and beyond is the more traditional American equivalent.

Here are some other examples of mobile homes:

Little cohousing - Peninsula Park Commons

2009-08-16T23:19:00.004-07:00

Peninsula Park Commons was one of my favourite cohousing projects I visited in North America (and the last one) because it was of a manageable scale (logistically) easily transferred to home in Brisbane, made use of existing building fabric, incorporated artistic, sculptural elements and was well linked to parks, bike ways and public transport.

Developed in 2003 by two people keen to see cohousing happen, it was adapted, expanded and then sold on to interested parties - unique in all the places I visited. By a couple of people rather than the whole community establishing the design and construction, it sped up and simplified the building process.

Interesting links:
PP Commons home site

First impressions of Portland

2009-08-14T07:58:00.000-07:00

Beyond the industrial edge of railway yards and space-centre-like gas plants, Portland seduced me as I knew it would. Cyclists everywhere, beautiful old buildings, a bustling real farmers' market (local produce, wine, preserves, very temping baked goods).

The Natural Capital Centre (or Ecotrust) sat beside the markets in a grand, gold LEED-rated refurbished wharehouse. Adapted 10 years ago, it is still a thriving and up-to-date mecca: cafes, resource libraries, information centres and a Patagonia store. I'll be back in the morning.

Riding through busy main streets, filled with jammed but courteous-to-cyclists car commuters, I had the strong feeling I may need more than the planned 2 days to get to know the city better.

We had a longer ride than needed east to our Warm Showers hosts, Kate and Winslow (below), as I'd mislocated their block on the long, gridded streets. This gave us a chance to see the thriving Hawthorne Street, brimming with enticing shops, cafes and restaurants, bars, bike shops and groovy locals and too many cars. A dangerous combination and marked as such on Portland's cycling maps.

Dockside Green, Victoria, BC

2009-08-07T08:52:00.001-07:00

Dockside Green is a new development in inner Victoria which has received the Platinum (best) Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design (LEED) rating. It mixes residences with retail and commercial spaces and features all sorts of green elements which I'd hoped to learn about first hand from the Dockside Green team at their very well setout but always closed information centre in town. While I didn't have any luck getting into the display room, I did wander around and between the buildings and along the internal wetland. I saw a few wind turbines (not turning) and some banks of photovoltaics (awnings in the photo above).I didn't find any Dockside Green staff on site but chatted to a resident who is grappling with the transition of downsizing from rural Yukon to an urban condo. Despite that challenge, she seems happy with the way her new home performed in both winter (extreme this last one) and the recent heat wave and its proximity to work and town (she walks to both).

Here are some of the interesting bits about the project...

Developer – Windmill West in collaboration with Vancity and the City of Victoria

Completed 2008

Eco building

New LEED platinum-certified building - first community ever to target LEED Platinum certification for buildings developed in a master planned community.

Green roofs

45-55% less energy than National Energy Code through low-e double-glazing, external sunshading, cfl lighting, solar-powered external lighting, individual unit metering

Eco infrastructure & services

100% fresh air HVAC

Highly water-efficient water fixtures (approx. 65% less consumption than conventional developments)

100% of its sewage treated on site and with the treated water used for flushing toilets, landscape irrigation and water features

wastewood biomass to produce gas that for heating and domestic hot water

Transport

Car share program

Bike trails

Bike racks in each building

Nearby ferry terminal

Transit and a mini-transit shuttle bus

Furnishing & Fitout

Carpet tiles to common areas

Bamboo floors and cabinetry

Cork and salvaged timber flooring

Low or no VOCs

Highly water-efficient water fixtures (approx. 65% less consumption than conventional developments)

To read more, have a look at the company website for Dockside Green

High Tea at the Empress and other treats

2009-08-07T08:51:00.005-07:00

Food and drink, as mentioned before, are pretty important to me, especially when they are not only pleasurable but provide essential fuel to keep my legs turning. I've enjoyed some very basic and some delectable delights but here are a couple of highlights....

CHATEAU LAKE LOUISE, Jasper National Park, Alberta, Canada
After 6 weeks of camping, eating wholesome food and being humble, I'd looked forward to a fine high tea at the Chateau overlooking Lake Louise. Horrified by the price, I resorted to a more modest but equally delicious pot of vanilla tea with apple strudel (see above) and eeked out the experience for as long as I could keep diluting my tea pot and not get sunburnt by the hot sun through the enormous windows.
THE EMPRESS HOTEL, Victoria, BC, Canada
An early addition to my must-do list was tea at the super-grand Empress Hotel in Victoria. Liz, mum's school friend, insisted on treating me to the experience. I couldn't complain about that! Spare spots were sparse in the enormous, elaborate room dedicated to the enjoyment of tea and treats.
The pleasure of afternoon tea was apparently "invented" by the Duchess of Bedford, of 18th century England, who needed to resolve the sinking feeling she experienced at 5 o'clock each day. She started to nibble on sandwiches and cakes, with a good cup of tea, to tide her over until later in the evening. It took off. The Empress Hotel has been serving afternoon tea for 101 years and since 1939 in custom Royal Doulton china first presented to King George V in 1914. Only available at the Empress, the hotel shop must do a roaring trade in china with its fans.After a palette preparer of juicy sweet strawberries and sweetened whipped cream, we were presented with a huge pot of tea each (tea bags!) and tiers of goodies - sandwiches, scones with jam and cream and super rich sweet treat to top it all off. We took our time, enjoying the atmosphere, super-comfy chairs and the tasteful live piano music from the far corner.
A parting gift, possibly to soften the blow of the bill, we each received a fancy tin of Empress blend tea bags.

REBAR, Victoria
Rebar is reknowned widely (I've seen their cookbook in Australia) for fantastic vegetarian and vegan food (though somehow salmon has slipped into one of their dishes). Liz and I decided to test out their quesadillas for lunch one day, accompanied by juice smoothies as bright as the decor and were suitably impressed. No wonder queues are often out the door at meal times!
http://www.rebarmodernfood.com/

GREEN CUISINE, Victoria
I ran out of eating time to try this out, tucked away in Market Square near Chinatown, but they offer a very extensive range of vegetarian (vegan, I think) food. Price of a meal is based on weight - great for light eaters but maybe not long-distance cycle tourers! I think more restaurants should consider this option to encourage people to eat and waste less when dining out.
http://www.greencuisine.com/

Roberts Creek Cohousing

2009-07-31T21:00:00.000-07:00

Roberts Creek is a well-appointed artistic community on the Strait of Georgia on the Sunshine Coast of BC. With beaches, forest, a creek and community hub, it had immediate appeal.

On the edge of Roberts Creek and beside Clack Creek, sits Roberts Creek Cohousing, a leafy, car-free settlement shared by 31 households (70-80 people) within the trees on 20 acres. Alan Franks (and later, Jane) welcomed me, sweaty and tired, into their home, with delicious wine, nibbles and stir-fry and neighbour Judith, landscape architect for the project, joined the fun.

Cars are restricted to the side of the site in group parking and 3 large-wheeled trolleys are used to transfer goodies from vehicles to homes. This eliminates traffic noise, loss of garden space to driveways and garages and makes much of the site safer for small children.

Environment

Roberts Creek Cohousing gave their land immediately beside the creek to the regional district to be shared and accessed by the wider community. The creek has several swimming holes in Clack Creek (far too chilly for me).
Only 6.7 acres is occupied by housing (and other buildings) with the remainder of the 20 acres used for gardens and retaining and rejuvenating the natural forest.
Waste water is treated with a septic system whose output is tested weekly for water quality. The system is maintained by council and the water is cleaner than the creek.
Heating is subfloor, fueled by gas
Photovoltaic panels have been installed on a couple of homes. Efficiency is restricted by forest surroundings and long winters.

Architecture
The homes and Common House were designed by local architects (Mobius Architects and Teryl Mullock), and constructed, primarily in timber by Burtnick Enterprises.

Community Facilities
COMMON HOUSE -
The topography meant that the more preferred model (perhaps) of the Common House encircled by homes, was not possible. Instead, a long spine layout with footpath connection was established.

Mail is often collected from the Common House but in Roberts Creek, being so small, mail is collected from the post office in the village.

Meals are shared twice a week and are prepared by mixed-household cooking teams including "The Laughing Stocks", "Galley Slaves" and "Jolly........ Non-cooks pay $5 per meal to contribute towards ingredients. They also celebrate TGIF (thank God it's Friday) as a less formal gathering.

Main space - eating, lounging, meeting
Kitchen - 2 sets of sinks, industrial dishwasher, 1 stove, 1 cooktop, 1 wall oven. Additional cooking outside is provided by a barbecue. The large pantry is stocked with food basics - oils, flours, spices etc.

Lounge connected to main space
Wide corridor/entry space to encourage residents to walk through Common House from carpark to the pedestrian spine
Office
Guest room with en suite
2 x WC's
Multipurpose room - small lounge and TV
Children's play room
Laundry nook - wahser, dryer and fridge

Post-occupancy feedback on the design of the Common House includes:

the large common space is too large to feel cosy in winter
need a mid-sized space for meetings, separate from kitchen noise (currently open plan)

RECYCLING AREA
All recycling is sorted in one area (another chance for people to meet). Bear precautions need to be taken as with most of north America.

CREATIVE SPACES
Two transportables, tastefully modified sit high on the site (top left on map) and house a woodworkshop (fully equipped) and a gym/music/pool/teen/craft space.

Homes
As with most of BC architecture, the houses are built from timber (in plentiful supply in this state). Follow this link to their detailed description of the considerations and features in their homes.

Some of the design elements which assist in social and environmental sustainability include:

infloor radiant heating (optional on some lots) - more efficient than air heating?
covered outdoor living connecting to the shared pathways
designed for adaptability and extending
designed for "aging in place" (i.e. bathrooms can be made fully accessible with minimal effort)
non-toxic interior finishes
energy-efficient appliances
gas stoves (options exist for electric as well and electricity in these parts is hydro-generated)
plumbed for future solar hot water heating (many residents have already installed solar panels)
energy efficient lighting
polished concrete floors on the main level to provide thermal mass

Expenses
Hired cleaners keep the Common House in sparkling condition but outdoors, the gardens are managed by volunteer work parties, overseen by the gardening committee. Residents pay $85/month for contingency and maintenance, insurance, heating the common house, portables, tools and cakes for celebrations.

More information? Visit their community website

Quayside Cohousing, North Vancouver

2009-07-30T13:10:00.000-07:00

I just visited another cohousing project this morning, making use of the super efficient seabus (the heat still got me, though). Resident, Elizabeth Kewin, gave me a tour. The more cohousing projects I visit, the more I want to be a part of one. Photo not by me but standby until I can download mine

Quayside, several blocks up from Lonsdale Quay and the harbour in North Vancouver, seemed particularly cohesive, with generous and diverse common spaces, a vibrant garden and very rigourous community recycling of everything. With a mix of cultures, household types and ages ranging from not-yet-born to 78, it's an ideal example of diversity that makes cohousing so rich.

Quayside has been lived in since 1998, after several years of forming the group and development, and has a long waiting list of hopeful future residents. Designed by The Courtyard Group, there are 19 residential units, ranging from a studio flat to 3 bedroom 2-story townhouses and a commercial space rented as a convenience store. 4 homes were (and will continue to be through a covenant) sold at 20% the market rate to enable lower income people to be a part of the project. Ownership of each unit is through strata title with contributions to the gardening fund, cleaning of common areas (once a week by lady)

Environmentally, the complex recycles all its greywater, for reuse in toilets and on the garden, rainwater is collected for irrigation, food is grown in private gardens, the courtyard and on the street. It is close to the Seabus, a fast link with Vancouver's CBD, has a library, shops, hospital, community centres and markets within easy (hilly) walking distance.

Cooking and heating is with efficient gas appliances and light fittings were chosen for their efficiency. Many homes have recycled hardwood floors and timber doors from the building formerly on the site and most units have incredible views of the harbour with good natural light. Stained glass windows were also saved from the earlier building and have been incorporated into the Common areas.

The common areas are much larger than those provided by conventional apartments - 2500 square metres is filled with:

Foyer and entry - notice boards, mailboxes, central fireplace and book exchange with inviting comfy seats and view to courtyard.
Kitchen - used for communal meals twice a month except in the 2 months of summer, also used for meetings, parties and social events. Some people cook, others prefer to wash dishes or do other kitchen chores. People pay for the common meal (nominally $4 each) to cover costs of ingredients
Guest room - used for short or long stays with a financial contribution by the guest (around $10 per night)
Bathroom - used by guests and people using the common areas, including clients visiting the common office space.
Office space - this is shared by several residents and once a week is a midwife's (resident) clinic, bringing in women from the wider community
Laundry - industrial washers and driers, drying racks and storage of detergents. Also several shelves of give-away things too good for recycling. These are left for 2 weeks before being taken to the local op shop
Children's play area and tv space
Courtyard - sunny leafy place with communal herb garden, fish pond and external stairs to upper floors. In the summer, this is where some shared meals are enjoyed, with a bbq
Dome deck and dome room - a rooftop space on the corner of the block with great views. Lots of potted vegies. The dome room is available for music practice, yoga, meditation or just relaxing.
Underground parking - not all own cars and this space also houses the greywater recycling plant and the extensive recycling bins
Gardens - these are cared for in a very casual manner by various residents and worthily have won a sustainable garden award. All houses share one compost system at the north of the block.

Some things that residents would like to see in this or other cohousing projects:

Big common store room - for fire reasons, storage is limited in the basement carpark
Main level bathroom to be wheelchair accessible
2 types of work spaces - quiet office and consultation and computer and crafty space where noise and mess is ok

Here is a bit more information if you're curious

Sweltering Vancouver

2009-07-29T08:27:00.001-07:00

Wow! Vancouver is hot. I'd imagined this great city as a cool retreat from the dry desert-like heat I experienced for the last week. I was mistaken. 35 degrees in the shade slows down sightseeing a bit, which is probably good.

This city is so civilised. Polite people, tree-shaded cycling streets and a great network of well signposted and mapped cycle routes, sparkling ocean, mountain backdrop, beaches everywhere (smothered with sunseekers and colourful umbrellas), tidy buildings and a few great ones, like the new green-roofed convention centre (below). Construction sites and vacant lots are filled with luscious food gardens - English allotment-style.Bicycles are everywhere of all different types and although helmets are enforced many defy this to feel the cooling sea breeze in their hair. All buses, trains and ferries take bicycles and car drivers give way even if they have right-of-way on larger intersections.

Highlights of Vancouver so far have been:

Cruising the waterfront and suburban cycle paths
Circumnavigating the huge, leafy and cool oasis of Stanley Park along the sea wall along with a steady stream of buff roller bladers, cyclists, skateboarders, joggers and walkers
Food in the markets at Granville Island and finding the Light House ecocentre

Stumbling across the new Convention Centre (see photo above) beneath 6 acres of green roof - click on link for more information
Exploring the beautifully detailed 1930 Maritime Building in town.

BBQ'd dinner on the back deck with my new friends, Andrea and Yvonne last night

I'm off now into the heat to visit the Museum of Anthropology, set on the coast within the University of BC grounds before cruising back to Vancouver for a walking architecture tour in one of the older suburbs of Vancouver. Tango tonight too! So much to see and do but after I've been here 4.5 days, i'll be ready for less cultural and architectural stimulation! Unfortunately my next cycling leg clashes with a long weekend so the road and all camp spots are likely to be very busy.

Middle Road Community, Nelson

2009-07-27T08:48:00.000-07:00

The Middle Road Community is the second cohousing project I've visited on my travels. Located about 10 kilometres from Nelson, British Columbia, on a lush hillside on 52 acres, it is home to 11 households (20 children and 20 adults ranging in age from 2 to 63) scattered over the sloping site. 50% of the land is shared for any use that the residents may wish (with community approval). Much of this is left natural with just the area around the Common House actively used.

In the lower part of the site sits the Common House, a spacious converted barn, which houses a large kitchen, toilet, boot and coat room (and airlock), utility room, meeting space, study/film room and upstairs - 2 guest rooms, a pingpong room, a weights room (to reduce the car trips to town to the gym) and a shower/bathroom. Resident, Stuart McKinnon, said that initially he thought it was too large a space for so few but that it has been a blessing, enabling broader community events to be held there. Beside the common house is the chicken run and orchard and the most floral vegie garden I've ever seen.

Residents own their share through a strata-title structure and there is a gradual joining process (see below). Wednesday nights, each household takes it in turns to cook a communal dinner and Saturday nights is a potluck (bring-a-plate) evening for all those at home. Some nearby residents have joined in on the Wednesday night roster, extending the community beyond its site boundaries.

Individual houses are each unique and there doesn't appear to be a building covenant, giving freedom of design but not enforcing high levels of sustainability or efficiency of building size.

Water is collected from a nearby creek and power is from the grid (hydro-electric).

The Common House:

Working with a local building designer, David Dobie, the group developed a design within an existing timber barn on the property. The total area of the common house including the upper floor is 370 square metres (4000 square feet). The design of this building and its surrounding homes were not driven by strong sustainable design principles.

KITCHEN

Two very large double sinks. There was an intention to add a dishwasher but dishwashing has been a pleasurable highlight of using the space - a chance for one-to-one interaction.
Two commercial-grade gas stoves
Open shelves (no cupboard doors) and well-labelled drawers for easy access, finding and stowing
Standard fridge - by keeping minimum in shared kitchen, less food goes off. People all have their own fridges and when they cook they bring down the ingredients. Eggs from the chicken house are stored in the fridge so residents can pick them up when needed.

TV/LIBRARY ROOM
It was decided that TV is not conducive to social activity in the Common House. However, there is a TV (without cable connection), used for shared screenings of DVD's and is enjoyed by many residents as another source interaction.

GUEST ROOMS

Spacious rooms used by visiting family and friends.

ELEMENTS ENCOURAGING SOCIAL INTERACTION:

Common house - meals, meetings, pingpong and weight room
Shared meals
Plots within shared garden

Joining the community:
This is a multi-step process to ensure that both the community and the buyer are happy and compatible - a type of informed self-selection. It rests on an agreement that the seller can only accept an offer from a buyer who has completed the process.

In the initial meeting with the potential buyer, the seller provides an information summary prepared by the community along with information about the private home.
Buyer expresses interest in the community to any of four designated community representatives. Two of the community reps then meet with the potential buyer to share information about the community and explore the potential buyer’s interests in community living.
If the potential buyer wishes to proceed further, more detailed information is provided and the community reps (all of them now) meet with the potential buyer for exploration in greater depth toward ensuring clarity and understanding of the community and to learn more about the potential buyer's hopes and dreams for community living. Contact details are exchanged. The potential buyer is invited to community meals / potlucks. Community members are encouraged to initiate opportunities for interaction such as household dinners or cups of tea, walks around the common land, etc. There is a focus on idenitfying and exploring any issues or concerns that may arise for either party.
Community, including the seller, meets to discuss their feelings about how things are proceeding and decide whether to continue through to conclusion.
Full community meeting with the potential buyer and seller to discuss what draws everyone to the community to ensure that the buyer is on the same wavelength.

For more information, visit The Middle Road Community website

Nelson

2009-07-27T08:47:00.001-07:00

Nelson was high on my list of must-see places with many praising its location and its architectural heritage. Beautiful landscapes with water and mountains and the odd bit of well-preserved historic buildings are an irresistible combination.

Having cycled the dry, hot lands from Radium Hot Springs around to Creston, the steep, forested hillsides, distant snowy mountain and cool, long lake was a refreshing contrast to brown grass and pines. Lupins and other flowers blossomed and thimbleberries (just like raspberries), blueberries and Saskatoon berries were everywhere for the taking. I'd gorged myself on raspberries and cherries in Creston but wild and fresh off the bush was all the more special.

A thunderstorm was looming overhead and I rode faster than I've ever ridden before to outrun it. When it caught up with me, I didn't mind as I needed a shower. All I had on my mind for the last 20km was finding a comfy bed. I didn't find that - every accommodation in desirable Nelson was booked out but I found a wedge of sloping grass in the council campground in town to pitch my tent.

Nelson, on a very steep hillside, kept me busy for a whole day, meandering around the streets and lanes, looking at the timber, stone and brick buildings (dating from the 1890's to 1920's) and seeking out scrummy organic beverages and food. Nelson was clearly a prosperous city in its heyday and still is but now with tourism and the artist and alternate community that resides there.

I eavesdropped and participated in some odd conversations with local astrologists and others into the weird and wonderful. I found it hard to keep a straight face at times but enjoyed the experience while the rain poured down. The Cottonwood Park markets were another hub of all the local colourful characters. I first walked down for breakfast. Lucky I'd packed some as Canadian markets start at a far more civilised weekend time of 9.30am (Brisbane's are around 6am) but I returned later for a fantastic pie in spelt pastry, homemade root beer and some baked goodies to take to the cohousing project that evening.

The multiple dramatic thunderstorms on the Saturday encouraged visits to cafes, galleries and the local library. Sadly I didn't find the local gallery and museum until after closing time.

I felt very at home in Nelson - leafy streets, organic supermarket (amazing array of bulkfoods to fill panniers with), organic bakeries, art galleries, yoga, local produce market, street festivals, bike shops and bicycles. I'm adding it to my list of favourites, now joining Haines and Haines Junction.

Canadian hospitality

2009-07-16T08:26:00.001-07:00

Canadian hospitality has been wonderful. Some unplanned home stays have been - Dave and Darlene in Haines Junction, Paul and Jo in Houston and the Feldmann extended family east of Burns Lake (tent site, warm drinks out of the rain and "Tour de France" viewing). All shared a common interest and passion for cycling and it is always rejuvenating to share some time with local folk (and refreshing, being able to have a shower and wash some road and bike grime off clothes).

Warm Showers is an international network of cycle tourers or those who find them curiously fascinating. People offer a hot shower and a place to sleep (in the garden or in the house) to pedalling travellers (Robert and I have both been hosts). We have met three great families this way on our journey between Prince Rupert and Prince George and I hope to visit some more. Not only is it guaranteed that they will be wonderful people, because they all do or have cycled, but they can offer local tips on cycling highlights. Late nights are a high probability with the exchange of stories on and off the bike.

An alternative to RV campgrounds, hostels and wild camping, I'd say visiting local people is by far my favourite and I hope it continues, particularly on the next leg which I'll be doing solo.

We spent a wonderful afternoon and night at the Thompson home in Prince George last night. Alfresco dining in their courtyard with Richard, decorated with patchworked flags from last weekend's wedding. The house is rich with home-crafted artworks, wall-hangings, sculptural furniture, patchworks and paintings which have inspired me to get more creative when I return home. Time I took my sketchbook out of the pannier again!

2000km to Prince George

2009-07-16T07:16:00.001-07:00

Yesterday, my bike computer ticked over 2000km! That was quite an achievement for me and my body is still feeling pretty good.

Over the 750kmish from the ferry terminal at Prince Rupert, to Prince George, the landscape has changed dramatically, from fjords and dramatic snowy mountains with broad, fast-flowing rivers and sparsely scattered habitation to broad open valles with neat fields of hayrolls and straight rows of fences, power lines and cut crops. Neat chocolate-box farmsteads painted in matching colours and flourishing gardens sit at regular intervals.

We've crossed British Columbia in record-breaking speed (my records, anyway), assisted by tailwinds, draughting with Robert, friendly terrain and, of course, pie. Yesterday we reached the pie destination we'd salivated over since the tip from tandem cyclists, Roberta and Kevin, at Fort Fraser's Petro Canada. We had delicious big slices but my favourite was still the one on the first mega day out of Prince Rupert.

I've now had 4 flat tyres! The last, immediately after eating pie was a double-whammy from broken glass.

I've been very impressed with the heavily used railway line that runs from Prince Rupert east for cargo. If the loads had been transported by trucks, our ride would have been far less pleasurable. Some trains pulled cars with double stacks of shipping containers and yesterday, I decided to count the number of cars pulled and stopped at 78 as I was in danger of falling off the road or into the traffic.

Robert made a great discovery of wild strawberries one morning on the roadside. Tiny, but sweet, they filled the fresh fruit void that day. We saw some roadworkers pulled up on the edge, wondering what they were up to. On closer inspection, they were all squatting in the grass, picking berries. I'm surprised we didn't see any bears doing the same. Perhaps the very smelly, decomposed black bear carcass on the roadside was picking the earliest of these.

The smell of pine sap early on, signalled the start of logging areas amongst the forests. Logging trucks started to make their unavoidable appearance (though mostly very courteous drivers). Peculiar domed cones of pulp mill furnaces poked out through the trees and close to Prince George, there were seemingly endles piles of pine poles ready for pulping.

Having had enough of truck traffic and eager to get into the Rocky's, I'm catching a train this morning to Jasper, which should enable me to have some time to meander through the Kootenays and sample wine and cheese but still reach Vancouver as planned around the end of the month (with a little more mechanised assistance at that other end as needed).

Houston hello

2009-07-16T07:12:00.000-07:00

We have found ourselves in Houston after a half day's ride (65km) following a very sociable breakfast with our Warm Showers host, Emily, in Smithers. We've been doing some huge days, way beyond what I thought I could do. My body doesn't seem to be changing shape much but my fitness is improving and my colouring is taking on a healthy glow (no sunburn yet), with the raccoon look more and more evident (glowing cheekbones and lower face with pale eye sockets and forehead). I wish what fat remains could shift to my backside to provide a little more padding. I've now improvised with my fleece neck tube as extra saddle padding but it's not a huge help.

Expecting to have another wild camp tonight, instead, we were greeted on the edge of town by the very friendly and warm Paul Comparelli and his equally fun and welcoming daughter, Jo (aged 13). They sweep in cycle tourers regularly when they're not off on family adventures, cycling to Mexico or around Canada or heading to Peru or Cambodia. An inspirational family with so many cycling trips under my belt, I feel inadequate. Robert has been insisting that 100km/day is a sustainable and easy distance to work on with cycle touring and I've been in denial until Paul told us that he and the family cycle 100-150 miles a day (160-lots more km/day) in good conditions. I'm inspired to start earlier each day so bigger distances are bigger.

It's been roasting hot here on the Yellowhead Highway. 30 degrees in the shade with the hottest blast from 2-5pm. I'm keen to rejig our cycling days so that we can ride more before the heat of the day.

I've updated the blog a couple of times (www.esdcycle.blogspot.com) but need to add more pictures. Some entries I wrote after the 160km day (Prince Rupert to Terrace) so apologies for any errors during my delerium! <http://maps.google.ca/maps/ms?ie=UTF8&hl=en&msa=0&msid=105773214194714599414.0004680b840a306cd6aed&ll=47.635784,-135&spn=69.492148,186.152344&z=3> . We've covered amazing ground these last few days: 160km to Terrace, 105km to wild camp, 135km to Smithers and a half day today of 65km. We've stayed with 2 Warm Showers hosts and the wonderful "Team Compi" tonight so we've had a lot of wonderful Canadian hospitality in only 4 days!

Too many stories of how fantastic Icefield Parkway is has made me return to my old travel plans. I think I'll be catching a train to Jasper on Thursday (1 day rest on train rather than 3 days' riding) and perhaps the last bit into Vancouver if needed for time, to reach there by the end of July. Robert will probably remain faithful to the cycle and keep pedalling but I'm sure will catch me up down the way.

Back on dry land and pedalling

2009-07-09T19:42:00.001-07:00

Arriving at dawn this morning on the ferry, at Prince Rupert, we were ready to burn up some of the energy and fuel we'd stockpiled in the previous 8 days of ferry travel, hanging out in Juneau and stopping off at villages along the way.

After a misty start where we were covered with a fine dew, the sun emerged from behind the mountains and the breeze started to blow on our backs. We hadn't planned to cycle all the way to Terrace, just over 150km away but despite our very minimal sleep (about 4 hours), we somehow did it.

Sunshine, tailwind (28km/hr without effort was a breeze), flat road, wildflowers, spread out rest stops, many waterfalls, unfolding valleys the broad waters of the Skeena River (river of mists) and beautiful mountains (much like in Yosemite) kept us rolling. So too did my mega polenta breakfast after the first easy 40km (polenta, coconut flakes, dried fruit, milk powder, agave nectar and tahini). We found a delectable cafe after 90km (and only 11am) and the still-warm freshly baked pumpkin pie with icecream kept me going almost all the way to Terrace.

The lower mountains and hills are heavily scarred from logging in this area, more so than anywhere else so far. The clear-felled areas are all covered with new growth but very obvious and the zigzagging roads carved into the hills mar the otherwise picturesque terrain.

I saw my first black bear today, crossing the road between Robert and me soon after a failed attempt at having a rest (mosquitos scared us away). Fortunately, the space between us was large, so no risky close encounter. My bear spray is still within quick and easy reach.

Robert and I have agreed that the distance we did today with so little sleep is not sustainable so that record won't be broken in a hurry. I don't like to think about how we'll feel in the morning.

I've just got an email message from Robert that the local warm showers folk are happy to have us to stay and have a baby that needs to sleep. Only another 5km to go, then bed!

The Alaskan Marine Highway and its villages

2009-07-09T19:41:00.001-07:00

Juneau, the capital

2009-07-04T15:52:00.000-07:00

The large, old ferry chugged its way down the Alaskan marine highway to Alaska's capital, Juneau. With clouds low on the hill and mountainsides, our focus was on lighthouses, wildlife on buoys (pronounce boooeees) and the odd whale and porpoises. There are another 48 hours or so of boat travel to get back to dry land, beyond Juneau, before we can start pedalling again, so plenty of time to enjoy the marine scenery. The southeast panhandle consists mostly of a string of islands, most inhabited by humans and certainly by bears and other wildlife. There is a coastline, carved by fjords but is impassable on the ground.

Juneau has a long history and relics of its golden past still remain in its architecture, and mine workings. Quaint narrow streets on the hillside and down near the harbour (now crammed full of massive cruise ships) are now scattered with tourist shops but also some very delectable destinations for hungry cyclists - Rainbow Foods (huge wholefood store), gelati at the Heritage Coffee House, a huge array of bagels, sweet treats at the "Pie in the Sky) and now, our favourite beans and rice at this internet cafe (buy a meal and get an hour of internet free!!).

Sailboats, dinghies, ferries, cruise ships and float planes negotiate their place in the Gastinau Channel between Juneau city and Douglas. A city is probably an over-statement for this Alaskan capital, strung out along the channel with the heart and stark contrast of early mining/frontier buildings and Russian architecture built from timber juxtaposed with functional concrete government buildings and mega stores.

We cycled in from the ferry along the long Pacific Highway, avoiding the fast-flowing traffice on the former highway and with a few misjudged diversions. When studying my bike computer to see how much further, a black bear crossed the road in front of Robert - totally missed by me!

Across the bridge, in Douglas, Roberts old uni friend, Meg, welcomed us into her home - a timber 1940's building with a history of many alterations but a broad view of the channel (and it's passing water-borne cities, cruise ships, and air traffic) and to the forested, snow-topped mountains beyond. From Meg's back door, there is a network of forest trails up the mountain side, through magical mossy forest, open alpine meadows with soggy muskeg under foot, which Robert and I explored one day to keep the blood pumping and make sure we didn't turn into squidgy blobs filled with pie, icecream and bagels.

Our visit to Juneau coincided with the 4th of July celebrations which also double up as 50 years since Alaska became a US state (and the 49th star on the flag). What a parade!! The river of floats, marching girls, dancers, bagpipes, first nation folk dressed in wolf hides and bicycles, vehicles and dogsled wove through the streets of town and ended up sandwiching us on the island in the middle of the main street. When we arrived to take up our position, I was intrigued by the number of children carrying plastic bags. Each group threw out a steady spray of sweets! There is no doubt that there were some very hyperactive children in town over the following few days.

Essential/favourite cycle touring gear bits for Alaska

2009-07-04T15:03:00.000-07:00

CYCLING SHOES
I have to say that my favourite bit of kit so far is my pair of Keens Commuter cycling sandals. Despite having cycled at dawn with a subzero windchill factor, through drizzle and slushy hail, with toasty socks (a bit daggy, I know) my toes have stayed warmer than in my old cycling shoes. And, in the sunny weather, I can let my feet breathe and see the sunshine!

TENT
Diet, favourite foods, favourite song and matching tents - MSR Hubba Hubba. I love mine for space but bright orange is not great for stealth camping (which would be 80% of our nights) and the fly is always wetter in the inside than outside (even if raining).

THERMAREST
Risks of punctures and extra weight aside, this 15 year old ¾-length piece of luxury has guaranteed blissful nights of sleep on pebbled river banks, forest floors layered with small pinecones, sand and grass. I have an end of a foam mat which I move around for extra padding and have at the ready for sitting on if the bitumen or gravel roadside is too firm for my bruised sit-bones.

STOVE
Trusty Swedish Trangia. This is hugely popular in Australia where methylated spirits or methanol can be purchased with ease (except in remote communities where some like to drink it). I think we’ve now found the right translation – shellac thinner – and look forward to less sooty bowls (we are always covered with streaks of black war paint) and faster cooking.

BIKE
Beloved Saracen – steel framed, recently upgraded to 27 gears and v-brakes. It has been on every cycle tour since August 1996 and we will share another birthday together next month.

BLINDFOLD
When the sky is bright for up to 20 hours a day, a way of masking this for good sleep is essential.

Food and cycling

2009-07-03T17:34:00.000-07:00

Food is a major highlight of any cycle touring adventure, or should be, if the right delectable delights can be sourced. Fortunately, Robert has a similarly hearty and wholesome pescetarian diet (vegetarian with the odd bit of fish) and we have been eating surprisingly well. I may have lost weight on my face (as always) but no marked difference elsewhere (I need all the padding I can get on my backside!)

Here is a sample of what we munch on to fuel up to 6 hours of exercise a day:
Breakfast: Organic oats, dried fruit and agave syrup (vegan honey subsitute and much easier to source in Alaska) with bananas on top
Snacks: toasted sunflower and pumpkin seeds, dried fruit, muesli bars, tahini cookies (just baked a batch for the next leg), apples, pears
Lunch: flat bread, pumpernickel or bagels with rehydrated hummus or spicy Mexican bean salsa, cheese, green leaves (sometimes roadside dandelions), fresh tomatoes, hard boiled eggs, peanut butter (thanks to Paul)
Dinner: cous cous, pasta or rice with a variety of flavours, spices, lentils, TVP, cheese, savoury yeast flakes.

We've just acquired a jar of organic coconut oil (fortunately stays solid this far north, avoiding messy leaks) which I've just learnt is not only fantastic for frying, baking, spreading on bread and skin and possibly lubing chains but also is a very concentrated source of protein!

Most food is prepared quickly as my trangia stove is small and doesn't burn too hot. Finding the right fuel (methylated spirits) in the US and Canada has been a challenge but I think Robert hit the jackpot today. We have roasted some vegies in the fire (spot the roasted potato amongst the pebbles), which were delicious.

I have taken a distinct liking to north American pies. No, I haven't become a meat eater in these energy-burning times. Meat pies don't seem to exist with an Australian persistence, however large, thick, homemade pies filled with local berries and fruits and varyingly glutenous goo are served warm at appropriate intervals for a calorie-craving cyclist. "Pie a la mode" is a common and very elaborate way of saying "pie with two big blobs of icecream". Usually I go for this more posh version.

Mostly we cook dinner - sitting on the edge of the road, on a specially chosen rock or patch of grass or if we're lucky, at a picnic table. We have splurged a couple of times so far and amazed ourselves and the waiting staff at the volume we can consume. Our last feast was at Mosey's Cantina in Haines (see photo of the spread below) - 2 dips, 2 main meals (everyone else took doggy bags home) and a dessert. Divine!

Leg 1 - Haines Junction to Haines

2009-07-03T17:32:00.001-07:00

Day 12 (28th June) - 98km (979km total)
Other cyclists! eagle, dead porcupine and mozzies. Camped at Million Dollar Falls
Day 13 (29th June) - 110km (1089 total) 6.25 hours in saddle
Yukon, British Columbia and back to Alaska. Chilkoot Pass highlight and soaring descent to USA
Day 14 (30th June) - 53km (1142km total) 3 hours
Broad river flats, wind and Haines - end of leg 1

LEAVING HAINES
Finding it hard to leave our beloved hosts and homely Haines Junction, we finally pulled out of town near noon, with fresh buns in our panniers along with other heavier fuel types. Recharged and freshly clothed and gently nudged by a tail breeze, we took off up the first of many long, gentle uphills with ease.

There were a few cyclists out and about on the road, some day riders, a solo cyclist heading to Fairbanks and a couple cycling "Golden Loop" (Whitehorse, Skagway, ferry to Haines, Haines Junction and back to Whitehorse)to celebrate their 8th anniversary.

Robert, enjoying the aid of the tailwind, sailed past the turnoff to Kathleen Lake - a not-to-miss diversion recommended by Darlene. I couldn't resist, despite the corrugated dirt road of uncertain length and Roberts rapidly diminishing silhouette. Mirror-perfect, the lake with its fringe of ever-present floral blooms, reflected the mountains beyond demanding several photos which hopefully I'll successfully upload someday.

The sky had been clear but for one small dark cloud, almost the size of the mosquito swarm that descended on us at the same time while we stopped for lunch by the roadside. Very quickly (and thankfully briefly) the cloud dropped pea-sized slushy hail/snow on us, forcing out the wet weather gear for only the second time on the ride. The temperature plummetted from what had been easily classified as hot, to chilly. After that little cool down, however, for much of the remaining ride to Haines, the storm clouds parted over our route and dumped their loads elsewhere. It was quite incredible fortune! Lucky I brought my trusty red gore-tex jacket which always seems to guarantee decent weather.

The headwinds off the ocean began long before we reached the highest point on our ride. At Klukshu, a semi-deserted First Nation village, an information sign made our battle with wind seem a breeze. The journey of a salmon is far more exhausting than any cycling into a headwind could be. In this area, these fish travel more than 200km from the gulf of Alaska up into the mountains we were crossing, to Klukshu Lake and River, not only swimming against the current all the way but ascending around 650 metres. I'm not sure if salmon can draught like cyclists but it certainly helped us cover ground.

Somewhere along the way, we crossed from "Larger than Life" Yukon into "The Best Place on Earth" (British Columbia). That is an ambitious claim and there is some pretty stiff competition but I agree that is one of the most beautiful areas on earth.

CHILKOOT PASS
We had been warned of large climbs on the route but for me there is always a positive to this - grand views and very rewarding downhills. Before reaching the high point, Chilkoot Pass, we decided that perhaps a night's rest might be beneficial (I was still energised by the scenery and long daylight).

The road climbed into alpine meadow territory where for the first time since our start in Fairbanks, we were finally above spruce forest, with lower vegetation for wider views. There were new flowers and plants and armpit-high bushes which grew up to the roadside well concealed the cheeky bears which left frequent scat piles in our cycling lane about 1km apart. We never saw one.

At the summit, we had to stop to capture the panorama and our breaths. Rugging up (including balaclavas) was necessary as the wind was becoming colder and we had a fast, fun descent ahead. Dropping down the south side of Chilkoot Pass went exhilaratingly fast. The road ran parallel to a long wall of ragged peaks with a deep river valley between. We quickly went from open alpine terrain to the depths of a tall, lush pine forest with thick leafy undergrowth more in place (in my mind) in the tropics rather than the sub-arctic.

BACK IN ALASKA
After a brief interaction with US immigration and the confiscation of our two fresh tomatoes destined for the evening's daal, we found ourselves at the valley floor, beside the large-pebbled, grey glacial river. After a very filling meal of lentils (without fresh vegetation), I re-read the Milepost (a detailed description of stops and sights for RV travellers) and discovered the 33-mile roadhouse only a short pedal away. Pies, beer and wine were on our minds and soon inside our bellies as we soaked up the hunting/shooting atmosphere of the log-constructed establishment.

We spent our last night in transit on the pebbly river bank which Robert suspected was "beary" (confirmed the next morning by a local but not by any encounters, thankfully), enjoying sunset and a fire but starting a bit late as Robert washed in the river. That was futile as the whole area was composed of glacial silt, a fine grey powder like bulldust, which permeated everything.

Juvenile bald eagles (replacing trumpeter swans of the higher lands) waited for the salmon run, when the river swarms not only with fish but birds of prey and bears. After long stretches without human habitation, the increasing concentration of vehicles, fishing camps, letterboxes and private driveways and well-tended gardens were a positive reminder of the closeness of Haines as we once again rode head to tail, swapping at each milepost (at the end, Robert galliantly offered to draught all the way in and I reluctantly accepted).

HAINES
Haines ties with Haines Junction as my favourite town so far, with its beautiful harbour setting, mountain views, ready access to rivers and walking and biking trails and quaint timber architecture. Having glorious weather helped too (normally much wetter) with all the surrounding peaks visible.

Only small cruise ships can enter Haines' harbour, limiting the drive to construct "tack" to house souvenir junk and icecreams. The main street has a few historic buildings (with some modern insertions between), ending at the harbour with the big, red shed of the Harbor Bar and Liquor Store.

Being a former naval base, high on the hillside is a quadrangle with grand officer's homes, admin buildings and a former gymnasium all in distinctly American timber style. These now house cosy B&B's, museums and families.

A town with a fantastically stocked wholefood shop and cafe, Mountain Market, always gets the "thumbs up" from me and we indulged in some of their wares. I'd heard of Mountain Market way back in Beaver Creek, Canada and had it in my mind as a driving inspiration to get through the headwinds at the end of the ride into town.

Mosey's Cantina spared us from cooking, at substantial cost, but we did eat 2 entrees, 2 mains and a dessert, all of decent proportions. I think we were the only two in the atmospheric Mexican who didn't take doggy boxes home.

Leg 1 - Tok to Haines Junction - 22nd to 26th June

2009-07-03T17:29:00.002-07:00

TOK TO HAINES JUNCTION – 22nd to 26th June

6 Tok to wild camp north of Northway Junction – 82km (447 total)
Weighed ourselves with loaded bikes at weighing station – Robert and Paul 300lbs and me a lightweight 260lbs (+-20). Gentle undulations, deserted towns, wide views to St Elias range, other cycle tourers (Dirk 33,000km and all of Africa to go and an elderly German couple), slow broad rivers
7 Beaver Creek, Yukon, Canada wild camp – 113.4km (560km)
Icy rain, border crossing into Yukon, Canada (my first time) and sunshine. Moose, trumpeter swans, ducks
8 North of Bonjek River wild camp – 113.8km
Mosquito territory, Koidern River Lodge quirky cuppa, Pickhandle Lakes, undulating ice-heaved roads
Mother bear and 2 babies, Lynx?, beaver
9 Destruction Bay wild camp – 97km (771)
Short beautiful leg of old Alcan Highway beside river (near Kluane Wilderness Lodge), long dusty roadworks, headwinds!!!, huge pizza reward at Destruction Bay
10 Haines Junction - 110km
Beautiful dawn ride marred only later by wind. Mountains, wildflowers, glassy Kluane Lake

Having spent a few days cycling with Paul, we spent a long time at Tetlin Junction, outside Tok, trying to decide which path to take – the shorter, more beautiful route as originally planned or the longer, more historic (gold mining) loop via Dawson City and Whitehorse to spend more time with our new chum. At the extensive and deserted former lodgings and café (sadly unstocked with pie and beverages) at Tetlin Junction, we delayed the decision, crawling around the buildings, taking photos, snacking and chatting with an overloaded German cycling couple in their late 60’s (?). We pondered why such establishments are now deserted and can only conclude that with the vast majority of travelers now moving about the countryside in vehicles with more features and fittings than a basic home, the need for cosy timber cabins and log-filled hotels are out of vogue.

Once we had agreed on the most reasonable scenario and with no other excuse to delay our decision any longer, Robert and I decided to stick to plan A, with the promise of fine mountain views, a more direct line to the ocean and the promise of a live music gig for some much-needed culture in Haines Junction.

We eased our bodies back into cycling mode, adjusting saddles (sore knees), adding saddle padding and adjusting loads as we cruised with pleasant tailwinds through new landscapes (ever-present spruce and wildflowers the common thread). Parts of us exposed to sun have begun to get a golden glow (Robert more than me) – fingers (not protected by cycle mitts), wrists and faces from the cheekbones down. Belgian Dirk who’s been on the road for over 2 years and 33,000km was looking pretty weathered from the sun and wind so I’ve made a note to keep layering on that oily natural suncream and lip balm on such long-sunshine days and have almond/jojoba oil and coconut oil to rehydrate my very parched skin after a day in the weather.

Preparing meals, stashing food bags and setting up and packing up camp are all becoming smooth rituals.

During our first bout of real, cold rain, following a short, beary walk down to a lake, we sought shelter at the Tetlin National Wildlife Refuge information centre. According to the chirpy national parks guide, cyclists lunching inside the very picturesque centre is not uncommon, especially with hot water on tap for warming beverages. Coach loads of tourists filed by and asked questions about our journey, intrigued or admiring.

INTO CANADA

With a tailwind, aiding an escape from the icy, cloudy weather of Alaska, we crossed the border into Canada late in the evening and cycled until 12.30pm (1.30 Canada time). As we passed the welcome to Canada signs (after obligatory photos), the sun came out, the wind dropped and despite the loose, gravel road the easy cycling, sunshine and the scenery inspired us to keep going. Leaving the US was a complete non-event – noone to check or stamp my passport. Canada, on the other hand, warmly welcomed us 27 km down the road and gave me a stamp for my collection.

Snowy mountains, strings of mirror-flat lakes edged with reeds and complete with ducks with ducklings, large white Trumpeter Swans and, at one, a large male moose made me fall in love with Canada as I imagined I always would. Canada’s pavilion at Brisbane’s World Expo 88 was my favourite of them all and on first impressions, I knew I wasn’t going to be disappointed. “Larger than Life”, the Yukon’s slogan, couldn’t be more appropriate – with size of the broad glacial valleys, high peaks, expanses of wetlands and mosquitoes.

Campgrounds in Canada thoughtfully provide a cooking shelter – open, roofed structure with wood heater in the middle and picnic tables. Beams are sufficiently high for bear resistance and the shelters can be used to sleep in in emergencies (mosquito protection essential). Pit toilets don’t sparkle in Canada like they do in Alaska but their often-broken insect screening provides some protection from the sometimes ferocious mega mosquitoes.

Roads in Alaskan interior and the Yukon suffer from the effects of permafrost – frozen soil beneath the thin layer of humus and vegetation. As roads heat up, the permafrost can melt, causing huge potholes, cracks and big dippers in the road surface. All drivers complain of this and signs and bright flags warn of the worst patches. As cyclists, we barely noticed the effect with some of the bigger ripples adding interest and fun to an otherwise unchallenging road surface. Road works with long gravel stretches abound at this time of year, making cycling dusty and tiring and potentially hazardous with stones thrown up by inconsiderate RV drivers. One friendly woman truck driver pointed out a 6km diversion to avoid one stretch, along the old Alcan Highway, beside the broad, beautiful river. Without the traffic, there was an abundance of small birds and there was a heavy honey scent from new flowering bushes along the narrow road. We cycled up the middle to reduce risk of unexpected bear encounters and pass several beautiful camp spots.
Photo of Dorothy by Jungle Ling

We encountered a few interesting characters on our journey to Haines Junction and beyond. One unplanned stop, in the always-important search for pie, at the Koidern River Lodge, at mile 1164, felt like we’d stepped into a comedy act. The untidy yard, decorated at the fringes with an abundance of fake flowers stuck in the dirt, didn’t look too inviting to most, despite the “open” sign, but curiosity had to be nurtured. Inside, with the TV blaring out “The Simpsons”, our hosts were hard to spot amongst the Aladdin’s cave of stuff for sale – rocks, trinkets, food provisions (dubious age), pots and pans, books and scruffy chairs under 40 years of dust.

Dorothy and Frank remarkably resembled Miracle Max and his wife from “the Princess Bride” (without the Jewish noses) and bickered in the same hysterical way. They had pie! Rhubarb, my favourite. Dorothy cleared some of the old cups and books off the dusty tablecloth, muttering about threats of divorce over The Simpsons and her husband’s untidiness after their long marriage. They joined us for a cuppa and talked of the changes along the valley. Our brief time with them was one of the highlights of local encounters to date.

Robert spotted a beaver, enjoying the fast-flowing river and I think I saw a lynx (something of that size). The biggest highlight was a mother grizzly and her 2 cubs crossing the road – my one and only sighting of a bear for over 2 weeks of travel.

The last legs of our ride to Haines Junction, from before Burwash Landing, approaching Kluane Lake, reminded me of Patagonia. Headwinds flattened us and our concentration went from enjoying the scenery to watching the distance tick over to 1km on our bike computers when in the lead or keeping an eye on the back wheel of the leader, with heads down to reduce wind resistance. We averaged 7km/hour in tight formation and made a quick decision to eat, camp and

Quote for this leg of the trip from poet Robert Service:
There's a land where the mountains are nameless,
And the rivers all run God knows where;
There are lives that are erring and aimless,
And deaths that just hang by a hair;
There are hardships that nobody reckons;
There are valleys unpeopled and still;
There's a land--oh, it beckons and beckons,
And I want to go back--and I will.
...
It's the great big, broad land 'way up yonder,
It's the forests where silence has lease;
It's the beauty that thrills me with wonder,
It's the stillness that fills me with peace.

-from Spell of the Yukon

Haines Junction and Ecohouse

2009-07-03T17:29:00.001-07:00

As we cycled into Haines Junction, I couldn’t help noticing a house contruction site and made a mental note to go back and visit it after a much needed icecream and bakery treat to re-energise after our long ride (110km) into the wind and 4am start (to avoid the worst of the flattening Kluane Lake headwinds).

Synchronicity works in wonderful ways. Our hosts, who we didn’t yet know as we pedalled into town, were the owners and labourers on the house project I’d spotted from my bike. Dave and Darlene being infamous adventurers (two of my new heroes!) who have crossed several continents on their mountainbikes (Africa, Asia), were easy to track down through the visitor’s centre. Despite our out-of-the-blue phonecall and a very tenuous link from a passerby we’d met 3 days before, they welcomed us with open arms and absorbed us into their lives for the too brief time we shared with them – live music at the Bakery (our motivating force for cycling such ridiculous distances from Tok), home brews, delicious food, soft beds, hot showers, clothes washing, shelter from the icy drizzle on our rest day and a trip out of town to visit their friends (and chief builder of their house). With the fantastically long days, we stayed up and exchanged cycling stories, slide shows and upcoming adventure plans into the early hours of each morning.

Building for Yukon’s extreme climate couldn’t be more of a contrast from the subtropics, understandably. Dave was delighted to show off his plans for the house before our site tour – a simple squareish plan with a kinked south-facing wall for extra space and interest, double-height void in the living space, verandahs and high gable roof. Dave and Darlene have done lots of research into sustainable design appropriate to an almost arctic climate and here’s what’s emerged with some limitations inflicted by their isolation:

R60 insulation value to external walls – necessary for when temperatures are 40-50 degrees celcius below freezing!! Achieved by external cladding (yet to be confirmed), full external sheeting in bracing ply, 150 thick external studs, 75mm air space, 100mm inner studs with 75mm girts, separated by a film of poly (over 450mm of timber-framed construction). Between each external stud, is an impermeable membrane, against the external ply, then wrapped back around the inside face of the external studs and fully sealed against the face of each stud with black goo. Hugely insulating fiberglass (12” of blown-in fibreglass insulation but couldn’t encourage any installers to travel so far) is packed between the external studs. R8 batts sit between the inner girts (on the face of the inner studs) behind plasterboard wall lining.
The basement is timber framed and ply-clad (5/8”) to floor (with R28 fibreglass insulation) and walls (R12 batts + 7” blown in fiberglass) – insects can’t survive below the ground in permafrost and cold. Building a basement in timber in Queensland or much of Australia would be a termite’s dream!
The one small area of concrete slab in the basement is for the root cellar (storing root vegetables and other foods through the winter) but more importantly Dave’s extensive home brew collection of beer (mostly Australian Coopers) and wine.
Roof framing is of prefabricated pine scissor trusses with very deep junctions over outside walls (not like ours that taper to nothing). This is set by building standards to provide sufficient insulation. Roof pitch has to cope with huge winter snow loads.
Windows are triple-glazed, argon-filled with aluminium to the outside for durability with timber framing with air gaps between inside and outside faces to stop conducted heat.
Roof sheeting colour is light to avoid overheating in summer (though unlikely with the thickness of roof insulation) and to reduce expansion and contraction in huge temperature changes which can create large, leaky holes in roof sheeting.
They would have loved solar power but costs are prohibitive with no government assistance and likewise with evacuated tube hot water systems. With the surrounding mountains, the reality is that in the winter months, the sun would only hit the panels for an hour or so a day, if the sun was shining. Summer, however is the opposite story.
Heating is with an electric baseboard system (don’t really understand this) and a slow-combustion wood stove.
There is a small 5,000L tank to for collecting and storing rainwater for Darlene’s garden.
Household water is “hauled” from a central village water supply by all residents. Perhaps the bursting of pipes and maintenance outweighed the convenience but the residents don’t seem to mind. It creates another opportunity in this vibrant, positive little town for community interaction.

Raising of the trusses was booked in for 2 days after we left and we were both very tempted to stay on and be a part of that. Haines Junction has such a good feel about it (wholesome food, strong community, arts scene, stunning wilderness) that, without time constraints, I could happily have spent more days there and with our wonderful hosts.

First cycling leg in Alaska

2009-06-22T00:37:00.000-07:00

It's now Day 5 of the ride and after almost a full day of recouperating in the sleepy town of Tok (latitude 63ish), I might be recharged sufficiently to head onward towards Haines tomorrow morning. We cycled in from Moon Lake campsite on 1 apple each, thinking the distance was a lot shorter and knowing there would be pancakes at the end. 31km later and totally famished, we headed straight for Fast Eddy's in town to order a massive omelette each which came with a side of 2 huge pancakes. Normally I would have been happy to share but wolfed it all down, surprising Robert and probably everyone else in sight.

Today is the summer solstice, so officially the closest we'll get to a midday sun. It's still bright outside but perhaps more like the first signs of dusk ...at 11.45pm (see photo below of us leaping at midnight). These long days are brilliant for camping - no rush to set up camp before dark or worry about torch batteries going flat. A blindfold is essential, however.

I had no idea of what to expect, landscape-wise, of Alaska. I have vague images from episodes of "Northern Exposure" but these weren't much help. The landscape is beautiful and apart from the odd headwind, surprisingly easy (gentle terrain) for cycling, so far. We've crossed over many wide, braided rivers (stopped at some for a sleep), stopped by a few lakes and found some beautiful campsites, both wild and state-managed. There's plenty of water around but giardia is common, so we've been filtering or boiling. As we've headed further southeast, the hills have turned into beautiful rows of velvety green and chocolate brown mountains with streaks of white snow. There's still hard-packed snow by the roadside in some places and on the river beds, despite the mild (10 to upper 20's celcius).

Forests seem to cover most of this country (or what we can see from the saddle) - pines, aspen and birch of varying heights depending on soil and conditions. Wildflowers in pink, purple, yellow and white blanket the roads sides and are sprinkled in the mossy forest floors. The forests hide much wildlife but so far, we've only seen a few moose (females), loads of noisy squirrels (sound like mini machine guns) and birds.

I'm quite relieved that we haven't yet had a close bear encounter but am keen to see a few from a distance sometime. I wear bells when I venture into the forest to look for firewood or a toilet spot and carry my bear spray (powerful pepper spray) whenever I can. It's at the ready, attached to my front pannier on my bike, when cycling. Robert is carrying an airhorn as an additional deterrent. Precautions of cooking, storing food and sleeping in three different areas are a bit of a hassle but I'm keen to make the extra effort to avoid a nighttime visit by a grizzly bear. Luckily, vegetarian food isn't too pungent so we should be fine.

The roads are surprisingly good here, with a broad sealed verge, perfect for single-file cyclists and often there are long, separate sealed cycle paths. Traffic, from semi-trailers to the mega motorhomes are extremely courteous, passing right to the other side of the road. Even on-coming traffic pulls right over to the road edge. Talking of motorhomes, I have been mildly horrified at the enormity of most of them. Repeatedly, I have been surprised at the steady flow of tourist coaches, only to be reminded that they were all mobile holiday homes for two. These travellers have all the luxuries of home on wheels. I photographed a few this evening in our Tok Tundra RV Camp that if huge to begin with, are enormous in camp mode, with slide-out bays on each side!

Robert is a great travelling companion - mostly jolly, same diet, similar speed and endurance and considerate. We've had two others join us at different times, Argentinean Axel (33) with his massive, tower of a load, and Paul (30) from near Boston with his very neat Bob trailer compactly loaded with an amazing array of gear (including laptop, frisbee, yoyo, gps tracker, solar charger). Both of these guys are heading to Ushuaia on slightly different routes with 20 months and 10.5 months respectively.

Everything is big here - cars, streets, roads, house yards and people.

We've met some interesting characters along the way - lots of slow-talking hairy blokes (Bob at Salcha River campground), beautiful native Alaskans and their very wild children, very fat people (reminds me of Wall-E), drunk bar folk and a very out-of-place but pleasantly familiar health food shop owner (huge contrast from the Tok status quo).

We have 366km under our wheels now and are 1/3 of the way to the ferry which will take us to Juneau, Alaska's capital, in its remote, watery location in the Gastineau Channel. Fortunately Sarah Palin is not in office at the moment, so we won't be seeing her there.

For those who like figures, here is the trip so far (updated on the wetpaint site):
17th June 81km to riverside state campground
18th June - 93km to Delta Junction state campground
19th June - 88.1km to Berry Creek (wild camp)
20th June - 67km to Moon Lake
21st June - 31km to Tok and a bit of a rest day
22nd June - ? to ?....better get riding!

Photo below - setting up to leave Fairbanks

Tamarack Knoll Cohousing

2009-06-17T07:20:00.000-07:00

In my search for cohousing and eco-design projects on this journey, Tamarack Knoll Cohousing conveniently popped up in Fairbanks. Established in 2004 and housing 9 members, it sits amidst boreal fir forest within an easy cycle ride of town and the university. Several of the residents were away adventuring and enjoying a summer outdoors but the remaining 4 adult residents and their 3 children welcomed us to a delicious dinner. We were their first dinner guests so hopefully have inspired them to not be their last.

Each household has its own self-contained cabin with power, heating (wood or other), pit toilet and kitchen (no running water), tucked away in 80 acres of forest, and all share the common house with a large kitchen (where they share meals each weekday night), lounge, store room, laundry, bathroom and loft guest room. Carrying water to the cabins each day in summer sounds fine, an added opportunity for interaction and a simplification of infrastructure but in the depths of winter where temperatures can drop to minus 50 degrees celcius, it would be a challenge to me.

There is a vegetable garden area where plants are encouraged along to produce before the short summer ends. Growing on permafrost has many challenges totally alien to someone living in the subtropics. What they can't grow, the residents purchase through a CSA (community-supported agriculture) with a local farmer in the summer but through the winter, food has to be bought from the megastores in "Box Town".

Alaska here we come!

2009-06-16T14:03:00.000-07:00

I'm writing this in the basement of Freddy and Kay's beautiful handbuilt home 20 miles out of Fairbanks amidst a forest of aspen and birch trees. This is my first time to Alaska and after 2 days of being here sorting gear, reassembling bikes and shopping for supplies, I can't wait to start pedalling and exploring this part of the continent.

After much emailing, phone conversations and a few brief meetings, Robert, my cycling companion, and I managed to meet at the precise agreed time at the departure platform of San Francisco's airport. Thanks to Robert collecting my bike box the day before, I was able to enjoy the walk down to the Mission station BART with Kristen's help sharing the rest of my load. Being early Sunday morning, the streets were quiet - no towering drag queens or overflowing bars, just dog walkers and sleeping homeless.

Checking in and flying went smoothly, and even the brief escape from the airport in Seattle to find some lunch in the downtown area on a cheap local bus was straightforward. I had a window seat on both legs and with clear conditions, I was able to get a better picture of the immense undertaking we have ahead of us.

On the flight to Seattle, the snowy volcano cones of mountains Lassen, Shasta, Hood, St Helens, Adams and Garibaldi poked up above the clouds. We looked down over Victoria, on Vancouver Island and Port Angeles – the bay crossing where we will return to the States from Canada. North of there, the mountains marched out into the water on islands and into the distance with steep-sided fjords and gorges. Glaciers, milky-green rimmed lakes (caused by glacial rock ‘flour’) and crocodilian ridgelines reminded me that there will be some chilly and steep parts of the journey back south. Snaking rivers surrounded a paisley pattern of ox-bow lakes suggest some flatter areas.

An old friend of Robert's, Penny, gave us a whirlwind tour in the 10pm sunshine, with running commentary of Fairbanks and all the buildings that have been demolished. Maintaining built-heritage is clearly not a priority when new buildings can be bigger and boxier (the Alaska Museum at the University and the airport terminal are the two buildings of architectural note that I saw). As a result, the town has a generic feel. A box town has sprung up on the edge of Fairbanks - a cluster of all America's biggest megastores surrounded by a sea of carparking. We lost hours over the next two days, in these energy-sapping hulks seeking last minute gear and food supplies.

Houses vary from log cabins (more traditional) to simple boxy forms clad in plywood and twee European-style chalets. Windows tend to be minimised to cut out the summer sun and store winter warmth. Yards are spacious with many filled with skeletons of cars and other flotsam. With a very short summer, well kept gardens are a rarity.

The town of Fairbanks may not be much of a beauty but its surrounding landscape is completely different from any that I’ve experienced before – rolling hills covered in spruce, birch and aspen with permafrost beneath the spongy ground and views of the distant snow-topped Denali Mountains. Wildflowers are everywhere - wild rose, bluebells and many others.

The days are impossibly long (endless, in fact), and it's easy to lose track of time when the sun is still shining. I fall asleep pretty instantly when I do go to bed, however, but that may be due to the fact that staying up until midnight is easy to do without keeping an eye on a clock. I have a blindfold at the ready for when we start camping tonight.

After 2.5 weeks of public transport, aeroplanes, walking and car travel - all been fun and adventurous - I'm looking forward to finally starting to cycling this morning towards Haines. Robert seems like the perfect cycling companion. Let's see how we go when we start pedalling!

Time to load up my bike and give it a test ride.

California Academy of Sciences Building, Golden Gate Park

2009-06-15T09:48:00.000-07:00

The Academy of Science building, set in Golden Gate Park is my favourite contemporary green building in San Francisco. With $500 million dollars spent of the 10 years of its making, it is not the most ethical investment in a city with such poverty but in firing up an interest in science, it has certainly been a huge success. Designed by Renzo Piano, the building seamlessley incorporates some built heritage with the new structure of steel, glass and grass.

Not only is the building itself enticing and its displays but the weekly Thursday night events in summer, with cheaper entry, cocktails, beer and wine and groovy tunes from various dj's, draw in crowds to match those on the weekend. This, however, is a more chilled out flood of people, perhaps assisted by the drink and ambient trance music and lack of charged-up or cranky children. All the displays are accessible and the rooftop terrace beside the 7-mounded roof (reflecting the 7 hills of San Francisco) is a great spot to watch the sun set and enjoy the outdoors and views of Golden Gate Park.

SUSTAINABILITY

Here are some sustainable achievements from the museum website:

"The Material World:
90% of all demolition materials were recycled
32,000 tons of sand from foundation excavation applied to dune restoration projects in San Francisco
95% of all steel from recycled sources
15% fly ash (a recycled coal by-product), 35% slag in concrete
50% of lumber harvested from sustainable-yield forests
68% of insulation comes from recycled blue jeans
90% of office space will have natural light and ventilation
60,000 photovoltaic cells; 213,000 kilowatt-hours
30% less energy consumption than federal code requirement"

For more information, see the Academy website

Favourite San Franciscan food spots

2009-06-13T23:50:00.000-07:00

Food is a very important factor in the enjoyment I experience when travelling.

There have been some particularly memorable dining places in San Francisco:

Milennium, Geary Street
Fully vegan, gourmet, delicious, mostly organic and stylish restaurant. A true inspiration for classy vegetarian dining seriously absent in Brisbane. Bookings are essential and the salubrious and sophisticated setting enticed Kristen and me to indulge in several courses and cocktails...and to purchase their recipe books, at a fairly hefty but worthy expense.

Orphan Andy's, Market Street, near corner with Castro
We feasted here for breakfast amidst orange vinyl 50's (?) diner decor. A popular spot, particularly for scrummy fluffy pancakes (banana ones are best), fresh juice and bottomless coffee, it is crowded from early morning, late into the night, mostly with buff gay guys. We didn't have the pleasure of being served by Woody, who Kristen and her dad, John, had chatted to on previous pancake missions but he was there in his glory - huge bushy beard, bald head, heavy nose ring, large earplugs (in his lobes not earholes), a Utilikilt (a very funky, modern version of a kilt) with heavy studded leather belt (studs spelt "nudist" across the back). The red-rimmed spectacles were a bit of a give-away that he wasn't the sort of bloke to knock your lights off as he sped past on his Harley. Despite his intimidating appearance, it was very apparent from his effeminate hand gestures that he was not that type.

Ananda Fuara, Market Street near Orpheum Theatre
Vegetarian Indian-style food and great wholemeal pancakes and non-coffee coffees. This was a favourite hangout of Kristen's (and Dad John's) but the queue out the door on my second visit was too daunting.

Bi-rite Creamery, 3292 18th Street, opposite Dolores Park
Time this right and you might get an icecream without having to wait in a queue that stretches to the corner of the block. We did, on my first day (see photos in first blog entry) and enjoyed balsamic strawberry. They do vegan gelati too and all ingredients are organic, wherever possible.

MINAKO Organic Japanese Restaurant, 2154 Mission Street, Mission
Kristen had previously eyed off this restaurant, easy to miss amongst the mess of Mexican tobacco and junk stores and taquerias and hoving homeless, and we spontaneously decided to give it a go one icy night after travelling home from Berkeley's World Music Festival. Waiting folk were crammed inside the door and we squeezed in, optimistically, with them in the warmth. The brisk host growled at our arrival and said there really wasn't any room but two guys in front invited us to join them at their table. Although this made Minako even more fiesty, we risked it, in our desire for delicious Japanese food. David (New York) and Albert (Montreal) were happy to have extra company after an intensive conference day and they slowly worked their charm on our quirky host. The menu was extensive and a bit overwhelming but under pressure due to kitchen time constraints, we made a group selection and enjoyed it all immensely (mostly vegan). We managed to transform Miyako from slightly intimidating host to jovial long-lost friend, enhanced I'm sure by David's dance moves, sweeping her up to dance to Barry Manilow - part of her diverse, eclectic musical collections.

Tangoing in SF

2009-06-13T01:04:00.001-07:00

I bought some lightweight ballet slippers to take with me on my travels for opportunities for a bit of tango glamour and elegance amidst the more gritty realities of cycle touring. Kristen had been to a couple of tango lessons in an Italian cafe in town, led an effervescent teacher, in preparation for my arrival and we decided to go along together to check out the scene.

Despite having tangoed for many years (though not at a consistent rate), it is always good to have the basics fine-tuned, and also to check out prospective partners for the dancing after the class. There seemed to be a few promising potentials in the class and spectating, and a decent number of men, so I thought my odds of being a wall flower might be low.

Well! Although we were well away from the Castro, what happened next made us laugh and despair at the same time. Men got up and danced with each other! I had been hoping to have a dance with the petite blue-haired guy, who had turned up in full motorbiking leathers and helmet but when he peeled his layers off to a mesh shirt, revealing a tatooed torso (including "Unconditional" written across his belly), he assumed the female role with his dance partner (wearing a "Queer Tango Festival" tshirt), I knew that he wasn't going to be asking a giant like me to follow his leed.

Soon, women were dancing with women too. Very few women in Brisbane can lead but both men and women seemed proficient at both roles - leading and following. Mid song, the leader would gracefully move their partner's hand and assume the following pose.

Kristen and I did eventually manage to find a few straight men to take us onto the dance floor including the old Porteno singer (performing with his grandson), a funky Indian in dapper, tight red waistcoat, a graceful older Chinese gent (who danced beautifully with his wife and took Kristen under his wing) and our new Indian (?) Mexican friend Darryl (who wanted a photo with us, thinking we were as good or better than Nicole Kidman!).

San Francisco

2009-06-12T13:52:00.000-07:00

"The City", as San Franciscans like to call their town, has been home for me for almost a week. After that brief time, I'd be happy to call it home for a longer time some day. Cosily settled into Kristen's 1920's flat (see sketch below) with a soft bed that folds out of the wall on an ancient mechanism, and green views of the back and neighbouring gardens, I've been venturing out daily to explore the different modes of transport (with the exception of cycling), hilly streets, architecture, street murals, food spots and outdoor gear shops.

I rate this city in my top 5, along with Lisbon, Buenos Aires, Barcelona and Bristol (can I include Brisbane?). Its diversity of people, districts (gay, Chinese, Italian, Latino, hippy, yuppy), grand parks, hilly terrain, old and new architecture and food have all entranced me. The City does have its flaws, as all do, with homelessness (street people with paper cups and escaped shopping trolleys overflowing with belongings, begging on almost every block) and an icy climate, even in summer. Despite June being the start of summer, I don't recall being warm or close to hot in the time I've been here. Frozen would be a more familiar sensation for me here (good training for my trip north) and I often wonder how all those without homes to sleep in at night cope. Thankfully the colourful and elaborately painted timber buildings, which must keep painters in demand, brighten the many grey days, psychologically.

One of the most noticeable things about San Francisco is the lack of smog. Mist and clouds abound but pollution seems absent. This would be partly due to the chilly sea breezes but also the fact that many people use public transport or ride bicycles and the majority of cars are small hybrids. Buses, trams, cable cars, muni (underground bus) and BART (Bay Area rapid transit) all run on hydro and wind-powered electricity. The odd buses that escape the cobwebs of overhead power cables, normally connected to by long antennae, run on biodiesel. I have made the most of testing all these public transport modes to get around town, as part of a "City Pass" deal - a week's pass to key city destinations (galleries, Academy of Science) and unlimited travel on all public transport except the BART.

The main connection from the Castro, where I'm staying, to the city is the "F" line - a tram line running trolley cars salvaged from all over the nation and world - Kansas City, Boston, Philadelphia, Alabama (see photo from 1947), Cleveland and from Milan, Italy. Each is has a unique colour scheme and style of its era, from elaborate Victorian to streamlined 1950's with its history displayed inside.

With bicycle paths criss crossing the city, cycling is popular and anything goes with bike types and dress, though helmets are consitently substituted with dapper hats or hairdos. Lycra-clad cyclists seem an endangered species here.

Big American life

2009-06-12T13:35:00.000-07:00

Most of the time I forget I'm in the US as so many things here are familiar - the cars, fashions, chain stores, junk food - but then some things snap me out of this dream state:

Mega roads - dual carriageways are so old-school here. 4 or 5 lanes or more in each direction are common as well as double-decker bridges
Hummers and RV's - although most of the vehicles I've seen are small and efficient, especially in San Franciscos where the Prius rules in popularity, these now rarely-seen super inefficient beasts suggest how pre-peak oil roads might have been occupied. Out on the open roads, huge homes on wheels roam the land with full-sized 4wd's towed behind. I'm happy to demonstrate to their occupants anytime the wonders of creating a house, bed and kitchen from bicycle panniers.
Driving on the wrong side of the road - this still catches me out but once I start cycling, I might start to break down my instincts to look the wrong way before crossing streets
Imperial numbers - why is it that only one nation still clings to this very complicated way of calculating things?
Obama obsession - Barack Obama is on everything - fridge magnets, posters, apartment windows, caps, t-shirts. Irby was carrying out his own Obama survey after 100 days in office with an average rating of "A", sitting between his lowest score, B, and highest, A+.

High Mexican population - the cheap tacquerias (a frequent life-saver when I've forgotten to eat) and extensive use of Spanish. A comment
No plastic bags in supermarkets - all heavy recycled paper
Very visible homelessness
Megastores - after my time in the wilderness with Irby, my reintroduction to urban life was a visit with friends, Robert and Jenny, to two big megastores in one afternoon: Costco and Office Depot (like Australia/South Africa's Office Works). Neither could be easily reached without a car (no sign of bus stops or bike racks) and each swallowed up vast amounts of shoppers and merchandise. Costco sold everything from digital cameras to massive strawberry punnets, portable garden saunas to Australian red wine, meat to children toys, socks and bed linen, novels to furniture and photo printing. All the merchandise is stack 12 metres high in one vast shed. I bought a cardboard replica of a USB memory stick and then had to exchange it for the real thing at "the cage" - a secure lockup for valuable, easily-stolen items. Fortunately the system worked.
The word "toilet" is not used. Strangely, a toilet is a Rest Room (where is the day bed?) or a bathroom (no baths to be seen). Toilet paper is bath tissue and if you ask where the toilet or dunny is, you usually have to translate.

I'll think of more and add them in. Stay tuned

Yosemite National Park adventures

2009-06-10T10:47:00.000-07:00

Two days after arriving on the western shores of the US, my Patagonian hiking friend and Californian tour guide, Irby, planned to take me to Yosemite National Park. Probably being one of the most popular parks in the States (3.5 million visitors a year), I was initially resistant to the idea of joining throngs of tourists in a landscape that deserved to be peaceful and uncrowded. However, after many high recommendations from locals and Australian friends, I agreed.

The long drive out from San Francisco, took us through rolling golden grass countryside of the Oak Tree Plains heading towards grey skies to the west. The landscape reminded me of South Australia in summer.

We only got a brief taste of the crowds (most contained within the valley) as we joined a slow crawl through Yosemite Valley - set by the traffic, pedestrians and wildlife and the dramatic granite peaks. Many people use the extensive cycle/walking paths which meander around the valley floor in preference to the road, reducing car traffic a little. We gathered information about the hike options, the ominous weather forecasts and the bears and did a short walk to the foot of the dramatic Yosemite Falls through beautiful forest, before winding up to the higher plateaus of the park around Tuolumne Meadows. When greeted by torrential rain and hail and high winds soon after picking up our bear barrel (for safe food storage), and discovering that Irby was without wet weather gear or a tent, we sought shelter in the cosiness of Tuolumne Meadows Resort to warm up on hearty homemade fruit pie. Irby wisely suggested seeking warmer, drier climes in Death Valley, before returning a few days later to try again.

I'm glad we did return. Hetch Hetchy sounded like a more remote location for hiking and the weather forecast was more stable (we were snowed on when crossing Tuolumne Meadow on our return). Irby hadn't ever been there, which was another incentive.

Packing gear for a hike into bear country is serious business. Bear are attracted to anything with a scent - deoderant, toothpaste, lip balm, suncream, insect repellent, moisturiser and, of course, food. Nothing can be left in a car as bears will break in (even for an empty soft drink bottle). These things have to be stored in hefty steel food boxes in the carparks (with almost human-proof locks) or on your body, with bear bins as the only approved and non-fineable means of storing bear temptations overnight. This was good training for Alaska where bear-proofing will be much more critical. Perhaps as a result of our dilligence, the only bear we saw was from the car in a meadow.

HETCH HETCHY HIKE - 3rd, 4th June

Hetch Hetchy Valley's O'Shaughnessy Dam was completed in 1923 with much controversy and resistance. It supplies unfiltered drinking water (delicious) to San Francisco's bay area - 85% of its total needs as well as generating electricity (totalling 218mW). Many walks start across the dam wall, on the other side of a long and large tunnel hewn out of the granite.

With uncertain weather, we decided to do the return walk around the lake to Rancheria Falls. The icy, green-hued lake unravelled as we followed the trail near the base of the granite cliffs and the distances were deceptive. From early on, we could see our campsite, marked by a broad white brush of foaming whitewater but it took 4 hours to reach it.

The trail was stunningly beautiful and the lushness of the vegetation, cooled air and profusion of wildflowers was a pleasant relief after the baking heat of the desert. Our trail was shaded with lichen-speckled trees (not that we needed shade due to stormclouds) and the path, though uneven, was elaborately constructed from stone, like a rustic version of the Inca Trail. Although Yosemite is teeming with human visitors, this lakeside pocket was quiet and even quieter beyond the drenching Wapama Falls where few daytrippers continue. There, the path widened out in parts where wildflowers in blues, lilac, purple, pinks, yellows and oranges bloomed in profusion. While Irby plodded on under heavy pack, I played hare to the tortoise, getting left behind, taking photos of flowers, plants, creatures and vistas, then dashing to catch up.

Although we saw no bears, ground squirrels were everywhere and suprising translucent fire red newts (like geckos) enjoyed the damp puddles and shade around the waterfalls. A jerky robotic-looking mule deer passed through our camp the following morning - a delicate, beautiful creature straight out of "Bambi", the movie. We think we heard a bear at dusk, as we were walking the last stretch to the camp across the rock slabs to Rancheria Falls and the camping area. A surprised roar, it could have been one, or perhaps the Germans we found camped down by the river - a cold dip in the river perhaps.

The spacious campsite was idyllic and shared with 3 other tents. Sheltered in a pine forest and only a short walk to the falls, it felt cosy and perhaps offered Irby some psychological weather-protection from the thunderstorms brewing in the distance (which fortunately didn't come).

With more time and food, we could have completed a loop up into the mountains above the lake but along with our limitations, the thought of a hot shower after 4 nights without was too appealing. With some regret, we walked back around the lake (this time with bursts of sunshine which released the floral fragrances). Not racing the daylight, we had more time to enjoy the granite landscape and wildflowers and picnicked in the sun beside the cooling Wapama Falls.

Within 4 or 5 hours, we were back in civilisation - Pleasant Hill, home of the Irby's. Hot showers, clean clothes and a soft, soft bed.

For more photos see http://picasaweb.google.com/EmtheScragg/USACaliforniaYosemiteNationalPark?authkey=Gv1sRgCOaLlvTNms_YnwE#

Architecture of the Alabama Hills

2009-06-09T10:43:00.000-07:00

So far on my travels, I've been surprised at the lack of contemporary architecture. Building seems to be strongly sentimental, making it difficult to discern old from new. Irby and Steve's hiking friend, retired architect Brian Webb, has created an exception for himself and his wife near Lone Pine.

Appearing to be of heavy masonry, its strong block forms are in fact built in lightweight construction to cope with earthquakes. Here are some of the features, in case you're curious:

5.5" thick timber studs with bracing ply on the outside and inside
Rendered board externally
Heavy bulk insulation to wall cavities
Plasterboard internal wall linings
Double-glazed windows and doors
Polished concrete topping slab with colouring from sprinkled oxides - this sits over "bubblewrap"-type insulation and pipework for subfloor heating above a strong concrete raft slab.

Large windows to the west frame view of Mt Whitney, the highest point in continental USA at 4,418m while others look out to the Inyo Mountains, the play area of Irby, Steve and Brian.

We enjoyed the view from the comfy couches in Brian and Grace's open plan living room, while sipping delicious red wine and nibbling on blue cheese. I was slightly self-conciousl about the fact that I hadn't showered for 3 days and had plenty of desert dust on me but our hosts were very understanding.

For more photos: http://picasaweb.google.com/EmtheScragg/USACanadaArchitectureModern?authkey=Gv1sRgCN7Vr5OV_r-PPg#

Death Valley - 1st, 2nd June

2009-06-07T07:59:00.000-07:00

The name Death Valley conjours up unpleasant images of harsh, life-threatening conditions, darkness and doom. So too do the names of places within the valley and neighbouring ones - Badwater, Furnace Creek, Funeral Mountains. It is the hottest (up to 54 degrees C in summer), lowest and driest (1.5 inches annual rainfall) place in the north american continent. Who would be drawn to such a place?

For the last 1000 years the native American tribe, Timbisha, has resided in the area and from the 1849, when the valley was given it's English name, mining of gold, silver and borax attracted hardy prospectors, miners and other folk. I was taken there by my Patagonian hiking friend, Irby, who resides near San Francisco. When Yosemite greeted us with snow, hail and heavy rain and freezing temperatures, he suggested a warmer destination....around 30 degrees hotter.

After the huge drive down, and overnighting on the floor a Irby's friend, Steve's, house, we headed into the hottest, driest, lowest point at Badwater in Death Valley, timing it perfectly with roasting sun and hot wind for the full desert experience. While the conditions, rocky ground and stubborn stubble of vegetation were familiar from travels in outback Australia, the mountain ranges created by volcanic action and great geological forces was far taller and more varied in texture and colour than anything we have on our ancient, weather-worn continet. Silky blonde dunes nestled at the base of the mountains in the junction between Death and Panamint valleys and faint lines of miner's roads and donkey triails criss crossed the hillsides behind. These dramatic ranges, painted with colours of chocolate brown, deep purple, cream, lime, pink, aqua, yellow, orange from rich minerals, brought back fond memories of cycling in the Bolivian Altiplano in 2003.

Itching to stretch my legs after the long plane flight and the very long drive (665km the previous day and 170km to and from Badwater), we headed up the Panamint Range - the rugged ridgeline west of Death Valley, with its highest point, Telescope Peak (3478m). This ascent (in the car) also reduced the air temperture by around 20 degrees C from the valley basin - life in the desert could be achievable. With the cooler temperatures, came trees and flowering plants - Pinyon, Limber and Bristlcone pines, Junipers, Lupins with purple blooms and vivid red Indian Paintbrushes - relief on the eye after the harsh, dusty brightness of the lower desert.

On the way up the hill to Mahogany Flat, we stopped off at the photogenic charcoal kilns built in 1879 by Chinese to a design by a Swiss engineer. Their stone beehive forms (almost 8m high x 9m wide) with stone-spiked crowns turned the Pinyon Pines into charcoal to fuel a smelter 30 miles away. The pine population thankfully seems to have made a recovery since 1882, when the kilns closed after their brief use. Being the first inspiring architectural form I'd seen in the desert, I snapped away with my cameras and imagined ways of occupying these magic spaces in their stumpy forest setting.

Time was running out before our rendezvous with our Ridgewater friend, Steve, so after a very late lunch, we headed up the Mahogany trail towards Telescope Peak, with no hope of reaching the summit. However, the extra elevation gave us great panoramas over the Death Valley Basin and Funeral Mountains and my legs got a bit of a workout. I met my second snake for the day on that walk, a striped racer - one of many reptiles encountered in the region. At my turnaround point, I was 3000m above Badwater - a huge change in altitude.

The icing sugar cloud puffs over the Panamint Range were slowly gaining volume. As we snaked down the mountain ridge, rain clouds illuminated by spears of sunshine through the clouds marked our evening destination of Minietta Cabin, nestled in Thompsons Canyon in the foothills. After a celebratory beer when Steve arrived, we hopped into his sturdier 4wd for the ascent to the cabin up the rocky road.

Minietta Cabin is one of 30 huts in the west California desert region - all free to use and maintained primarily by volunteers. Minietta, a former gold and silver mine, did have companion buildings until a few years ago when a couple of GI's decided to have a bit of fun with explosives in their free time. Without power or water but lots of indoor space cluttered with mementos and paraphenalia added by various guests, the hut is a character-filled retreat or base for mountain adventures. Despite the hospitable interior, we cooked outdoors to soak up the view in the last hours of daylight - Irby and me making lentil dhal and Steve, instant noodles to accompany his pop tarts. The view from the deck by sunset, moonlight and sunrise across to the Panamint Valley and wall of the Panamint Range was stunning.

Sleeping under the stars always seems like such a nice idea but with a bright moon and heavy air traffic, I had to blindfold and earplug myself. Fortunately, I removed the blind briefly in the night to see the Milky Way spread across the pitch black sky and two shooting stars.

At the suggestion of climbing Zinc Peak, I enthusiastically said "Yes please", to escape the quickly building heat of the valley floor and to burn up some energy before another long drive.

We drove around the arid Argyle Range, following Darwin Canyon to start the walk, after a hairy drive up a gravelly narrow ridge. We found the remnants of a zigzagging miner/donkey trail to follow, edged with rocks up the western flanks of Zinc Peak. A geologist's haven, this mountain is split in two hugely different halves - to the north, pale egg-shaped granite and marble-like stone and to the south, dark shaley, sharp rock with a crumble topping of small aerated stones.

Amongst the tough plants on the hillside were many delicate wild flowers which just like in Australia - a reminder that beauty can be found in the harshest of places. We also found a Horned Toad (an odd looking lizard, not unlike some of our reptiles), a Chuckwalla (a bigger lizard with a bright white tail) and swallows at the summit being tossed around by the wind.

The mountain range was very peaceful - just the crunch of our boots and the breeze....most of the time. There is a naval base nearby, which we could see from the summit, and from there launched fighter jets which tore around above and below us. Being boys, my hiking companions were in awe but I found their presence a bit unnerving.

For more photos visit the following link: http://picasaweb.google.com/EmtheScragg/USACaliforniaDeathValleyRegion?authkey=Gv1sRgCK6k_Y_uoM2p4QE#
Modern architecture - Brian Webb, Lone Pine
http://picasaweb.google.com/EmtheScragg/USACanadaArchitectureModern?authkey=Gv1sRgCN7Vr5OV_r-PPg#

Arriving in Americky

2009-05-30T06:26:00.001-07:00

After several weeks (and months) of planning, steady packing, purging and sorting, I've found myself in the US, in the colourful, rainbow-bannered, gay San Francisco suburb of Castro. Having not seen any of the rest of San Francisco since I was 10, my fresher impressions of the city are of enticing food shops, florists, very friendly people on the streets, quirky timber architecture stacked tightly along hilly streets, amazingly courteous car drivers and dogs.

I arrived in a bit of a daze after the long flight, including an adrenalin-rushed transfer between domestic and international terminals in Sydney (less than an hour) and very little sleep (enormous selection of inflight viewing to compensate). Although the main flight was 12.5 hours, it was made comfortable with all the luxuries of long-haul travel that I'd forgotten from budget domestic flights - food, wine (ironically, my shiraz was "Rolling" 2006 Shiraz with a girl cycling in the hills on the label - bodes well for a cycling adventure), flight socks/toothbrush/blindfold pack, soft blanket and pillow and over 200 choices of things to watch.

Evidence of US security paranoia began on the flight with an announcement that there was to be no congregating of people anywhere on the plane, especially around the toilets. My fingerprints were scanned and my photo taken at immigration. I'd better behave in my time here!

Since navigating the airtrain, Bart and local bus with the help of dear friend Kristen and her Dad, John, to Kristen's cosy 1930's apartment, we've been out walking the streets, enjoying delicious roti-wrapped curry, the most amazing icecream (I had balsamic vinegar) and chatting with gregarious locals, both homeless and not. Crossing streets and looking the wrong way is not a danger in this part of town as drivers stop in the middle of the street or intersection to give way to pedestrians, not just at the zebra crossings. I thank them with friendly waves and smiles in gratitude. If this was Australia, I would have been flattened by now or at least have been verbally abused or honked at for stepping out in front of traffic.

Being a predominantly gay area, pampered pooches take the place of children. They are everywhere, of all shapes and sizes. Near the corner of Castro and 18th Street, there is a pet shop (of which I'm sure there are many similar) which is like a glamourous home and food store for cats and dogs: dog cupcakes and iced biscuit bones, organic treats, hair products, massage oil, glamorous collars, stuffed toys, squeaky toys and clothing for the dog and owner. As I entered a fluffy, freshly brushed white standard poodle left the shop and as I left, a bit bewildered, a huge St Bernard and a smaller dog came in for a browse. I'll try to get a photo.

There are plenty of bicycles here, of all types. The only lock used is a neat little d-lock to lock frame and wheels securely. Not the skinny locks seen around Brisbane. My bike may be staying where it's safest - in its box - until I fly to Alaska in 2 weeks. Walking is great around this area, particularly for people-watching, window browsing (though I some I choose not to) and checking out the architecture.

For more photos go to my picassa album