By Allison Sayer

It was time for a trip. I’d always wondered about the area around Nugget Creek, so I set my sights on exploring there. I had heard that it was possible to bike in on the old mining road, which is now an ATV trail. 

I loaded up four days’ worth of food into a loaner bear can (Thanks, NPS!), along with camping supplies and layers. I packed my dogs’ saddlebags with kibble. After a brief moment of almost overheating which was solved by blasting the heat on the defroster for the rest of the drive, I made it to Strelna. 

Well, I’ve never ridden my bike in a bug shirt before but there’s a first time for everything. My first lesson was that a helmet, baseball cap, and bugshirt were too many things on my head so that had to be adjusted right away. I also had to adjust the top portion of my backpack so it didn’t whack my helmet. And relocate my bear spray so it didn’t interfere with my pedaling. All these readjustments occurred within an impressive cloud of mosquitoes.

Uphills? Mud? Both super difficult with a loaded pack on. The tires sank right into the mud, and I could feel myself pulling backwards on even slight uphills. Best to walk those. This was going to be a longer 15 miles than I thought. 

After a couple of very slow miles, the trail, the bugs, and my progress all improved. The creeks had good water in them for both me and the dog to cool down in. I did call out, “Hey bear!” as I pedaled, but I only saw a couple of old piles of scat. In the intense heat, I imagined the bears were mostly laying low, and would only trouble me if I happened to run over one asleep in the trail.  

Soon, I had new problems. The bones of my bottom were extremely sore from the weight of my pack pressing me into the seat. My legs were more tired from the weight than I had thought they would be, too. And I still had miles to go. 

I knew I had to push myself or my pace would be so crushingly slow I would become exhausted. I came up with a pace to pedal just enough to get ahead of the dog, walk until she caught up and got ahead of me, and then leap frog her when she slowed down to wait for me. Each time, I challenged myself to pedal for just a few more minutes than I wanted to. Every minute of pedaling, I wanted to stop. 

Suddenly, I recalled a very common circumstance I had experienced as a sea kayak guide. If there was either wind or current against us, some clients would paddle for just a moment, and then stop. This would cause them to drift, and lose much of the progress they had just made. In extreme cases, clients’ net motion would be backwards. This would necessitate towing them the rest of the way. In many cases, however, the clients just barely inched forwards. 

Some clients responded to coaching. For example, if people in a double took turns with their breaks, they could at least minimize their backwards drift. Other tips and tricks helped as well. Still, there were many times I was inwardly begging my clients: “Just put your paddles in the water!” 

Now, on this hot and lonely road, looking at my watch to see if I had pedaled continuously for even ten minutes, I wondered: “Is this how hard it was for my clients to paddle upwind? Is that why they kept stopping? Was it unbearable for their shoulders/backs/wrists/hands to keep going against resistance?”

I eventually made it to the end of the trail, and was deeply fortunate to have great views and pleasant travel for the rest of my trip. The bike ride home, with the food weight gone, was much easier, and I was able to even take the dog’s pack onto my handlebars. I feel deeply grateful for the views of Mount Blackburn and the incredible alpine landscapes within the valley.  I also feel genuinely grateful for the opportunity to feel true humility in the wilderness. I know that the empathy I felt will make me a better guide and companion in future adventures. 

Note: A fee is required to park at the Nugget Creek trailhead; the Chitina Native Corporation is the landowner of the .