Ice Bikers Follow Frozen Trail of Gold Rush

Brian Handwerk
for National Geographic News

April 14, 2003

During the long, cold winter the wilderness of Alaska and the Yukon is typically dog-sled country. It's also bush-plane country, snow-machine country, and snowshoe country. One thing it is not, at least not usually, is bicycle country. Yet as the northern spring approaches, the "Bikes on Ice" adventure is re-enacting two amazing cycling feats from the region's hectic gold rush past.

Three expert cyclists with extensive arctic travel experience, Andy Sterns, Frank Wolf, and Kevin Vallely, are currently in the midst of a demanding adventure they've dubbed "Bikes on Ice." Wolf, a writer, and Vallely, an architect, are both from Vancouver, British Columbia. Sterns is a teacher from Fairbanks, Alaska. Their mission: complete a 1,200-mile journey down the frozen Yukon River and up the Bering Sea coast from Dawson, Yukon to Nome, Alaska—on a bicycle.

As crazy as the idea may seem, it's not exactly original. The group was inspired by a pair of century-old bicycling feats that became a colorful part of gold rush legend.

On the Trail of Gold Rush "Stampeders"

In 1900 the Dawson-Yukon route was part of the stampede trail&3151;a well-traveled path plied by hopeful prospectors seeking their fortunes in northern gold. The route was traveled primarily by dog sled, but even back then two determined adventurers had other ideas.

Max Hirschberg, a roadhouse manager and expert cyclist, spent two and a half months cycling the route in the dead of winter. That same year Ed Jesson, a young miner, pedaled the frozen Yukon River on two wheels, riding an almost unbelievable one thousand miles in five weeks. The men's journals became unique chronicles of gold rush history and an inspiration to the team hoping to follow in their footsteps.

The path they're traveling, however, has changed a lot in the century since the heydays of the gold rush.

In 1900 basic "roadhouse" shelters were located along the trail at regular intervals. The popular route was usually negotiated by dog sled.

Now, only widely scattered native communities remain along the barren trail, tiny outposts that are shadows of what they were in the booming days of the long-ago gold rush

Guests Arrive Rarely in the Frozen North

The sleepy locales on the trail rarely see visitors and exist in considerable isolation. They have some surprises in store, however, such as satellite Internet hookups which provide a link to the outside world and allow them to file occasional dispatches on the expedition website www.bikesonice.com.

Such a hookup enabled Kevin Vallely to check in with National Geographic News from Eagle, Alaska (pop. 170), where he and the team were warmly received.

"The people up here are generally very accommodating and friendly," Vallely said. "They understand the harshness of their environment and are always willing to lend a hand in whatever way possible, be it a meal, a floor to sleep on, or even just a friendly word of encouragement."

The team is also receiving local wisdom, such as advice from a couple who fed them when they unexpectedly turned up at their remote cabin. "In Alaska you yell when you arrive on someone's property," the locals advised them, "or you're liable to get shot, boy!"

"They do think we're mad," Vallely said when asked about the response the team gets when approaching on their bikes.

Travails of the Trail

Typically, the team bunks for the night in a remote cabin or camps out. Thus far, their experience has been a frigid one.

During the early weeks of the trip, daytime temperatures rarely reached 0 F (minus 17C), Vallely reported. At night they have dropped to minus 40 F (minus 40C). "The cold has been our consistent companion and definitely taxes us each day," he said. "When it drops to minus 40 things start to take on a serious tone."

Nothing is more serious for the team than taking care of their bikes on the trail—they're a long way from any repair facilities. Freewheels have been flushed of grease so the palls don't bind up, suspension forks were replaced with rigid ones, and special double-wide rims were installed to allow them to ride on snow at low tire pressures.

Even with the precautions and adaptations, however, the cold has had an effect on the team AND their equipment. "Our tires tend to deflate at night from the cold and we've had two pumps literally explode as we tried to pump them up," Vallely said. "The cold does weird things."

Freezing temperatures can be a bit of help, however. They solidify snow and provide a better riding surface, especially where new snow covers dog-sled trails the cyclists had hoped would be broken for them.

"So far…the trail has given us everything from blazing fast glare ice to knee-deep, post-holing hell!" Vallely said. It's also given them a river that, once solidly frozen in gold rush days, is currently patchy and requires extreme care and even overland detours.

Despite the obstacles, Vallely reports that they have been able to actually ride their bikes rather than push them. He estimated they've been in the saddle for perhaps 75 percent of the way, though perhaps only 50 percent of the time, as riding is faster than pushing. It's essential that they stay on the bikes, and pedaling, if they are to make it to Nome before spring thaws make their route impassible.

Thus far time has not been on their side. The team is moving at a bit less than half their anticipated speed, which promotes both respect for those who came before them, and a bit of healthy skepticism.

"Max Hirschberg was a champion cyclist before he headed to Nome and it took him two and a half months to travel the trail," Vallely said. "Ed Jesson, on the other hand, learned to ride a bike the week before he left Dawson and managed the journey in just over a month! This is incredible—possibly too incredible."

"Obviously things have changed," Vallely said. "There was much more traffic on the trail when he traveled, but this speed has stunned us. It's possible, I guess, but we're a little suspicious."

The team is currently on their final river section, and nearing the Bering Sea coast. In a matter of days they will "portage" some 160 km from the village of Kaltag on the Yukon River to the community of Unalakleet on the Bering Sea coast. Then they will begin their final leg along the coastal sea ice and tundra to finish in Nome. Check back at NationalGeographic.com for an update at the conclusion of the "Bikes on Ice" adventure.