Day 0 - Travel Day

STATS	DAY	MILES	CLIMBING	CALORIES
DAY	0	0.00	0	0
TOTALS		0.00	0	0

The big day has finally arrived.  I am sure you are all breathing a sign of relief:  "Finally we don't have to listen to Brad yap about this trip.  It is time for him to put up or shut up." Well, I hope to do my best.

The first thing I needed to do was to load the car.  Packing for a month long trip when you will be living on the road with only a bicycle, your friend, some other folks, and a starry eyed dream, can be quite challenging.  This trip took months of planning with careful consideration for every item all the while balancing what I could take on the plane as well as schlep through the airport.    I think I exhibited real restraint and narrowed it down to the following gear:

 Gee, I hope I didn't forget anything.

After getting the car loaded, Sue and I departed at 5AM for Newark Airport. When I unloaded my gear at the departure curb all the idle skycaps scurried away like cockroaches when you turn the kitchen light on.  I was going to have to do this on my own.  I waved goodbye to Sue as she pulled away and off I went.

I checked in successfully (and by that I mean United got a second shot at my MasterCard) and made my way to the gate and strategically found a spot that I could view the baggage loading of the plane to make sure my bike made it on board.  My reasoning was as follows:  If you get to your destination all happy and relaxed and your luggage doesn't, bummer.  If, on the other hand, you know your luggage will not be greeting you at the carousel, then you can fret about it for 8 hours and it won't seem so bad when it really isn't there.  Fortunately for me, the baggage handlers had a break and I got to board the plane long before I knew for sure.

Fast forward 2 hours and I am in the bright lights of O'hare.  I call my buddy, and traveling companion, Mike (you'll meet him later) and he was two terminals over at security.  He had an hour to kill, I had 3, so he used his premier traveler class status to get me into the ambassador club for his airline where we relaxed, sipped free soda and knoshed on mini-muffins and chex party mix.  He left to catch his flight and I hung out for bit before making my way back to the second leg.

By now I was getting worried that my bike was being used as a demonstration model in an airline crash survival study, so I again positioned myself where I could see the plane being loaded.  I watch bag after bag go onto the plane, then finally, a glimmer of hope, my duffle bag makes an appearance:

Could that be Jimmy Hoffa in that bag?

I continued to watch, no bike.  Then, the handlers turned off the conveyor belt, backed it away and closed the cargo door.  OH NO!!!  Then one of them got into the baggage train locomotive and pulled away.  As the baggage cart swung around, I saw it! My bike, and one little red suitcase I had no interest in.  I sat there not sure what to do:  Run to the gate in a panic, or watch where he went, then run to the gate in a panic.  He stopped, and bunch of the them gathered round and chit-chatted.  They started boarding my plane.  I was a wreck.  Then, just as I gave up hope, the train started moving again and he took it to the rear of the plane and I watched them, with my face pressed against the glass, drop the bike case on tarmac, then 3 of them lift it into the plane.  I felt better and the tarmac survived. 

The flight to Edmonton was smooth and uneventful.   My buddy Keith gave me a book to read titled "Hatchet" by Gary Paulsen.  I am not a book reader (I think the last book I read was Dune) so I was a little hesitant to start, but when I saw it was written for Jr. High students, I figured it would keep me enthralled, which it did.  It was about a 13 year old boy, suffering the guilt and anger of freshly divorced parents, being to sole survivor of plane crash in the Canadian wilderness.  All he had was a hatchet his mom gave him before his trip.  He used that hatchet for EVERYTHING - shelter, fire, hunting, protection.  Without spoiling it, this kid had quite the ordeal for several months and he owes it all to his hatchet.  I finished the book feeling better prepared for the worse.  A hatchet was not on my list, but I am going to buy one as soon as I get to Dawson Creek.  As I am waiting in the Hotel for Mike to arrive, remember Mike? (you will meet him later), I realized, in the entire book, that hatchet featured in every single aspect of that boys life except one, there was absolutely no mention of how he handled going the bathroom in the wilderness. Now that would be a piece of information I need.  Was the hatchet used before, during, or after?  What was the pre and post processing required?  Should I buy a left handed or right handed hatchet?   I am so confused.  (If anyone knows, I would be most appreciative and if you try and punk me, remember, I will return with a hatchet and you will know where it's been!)  So here is a special shout out to Keith for providing a nice way for me to pass the hours today while traveling.

It took 20 minutes for the airport shuttle to pick me up and 3 minutes to get me to the hotel.  While I waited I saw countless shinny gleaming hotel shuttles driven by clean cut professionals pick folks up.  When my shuttle arrived, it appeared to have spent a good portion of it's life on the streets of Bagdad before coming here.  Bless the unshaven chain smoking driver, he got me to the right hotel.

Apparantly, the TSA had taken an interest in my bike case and they put protective barrier in place to prevent any nefarious would be terrorists from using it as a conveyance of badness.  It arrived looking like this:

Sanitized for your protection

Who knew that all that stood between peace and mayhem in the skies was this uber-tape.  I always thought the protective tape on the toilet seats in the hotels was a joke, but now I know how vitally important it was and how much we have lost as a nation since the hotel industry abandoned that practice.  The protective tape industry must have a mighty powerful lobby to get the government to bail them out and use them in our nations travel infrastructure.   I hope I won't need a any special tools to remove this tomorrow.

Meet Mike:  Mike is my best friend.  We met over 20 years ago in the rural farm fields of Northern Illinois.  Our kids grew up together, our families vacation together, and, most important, Mike and I ride together (I got him into cycling)

Dude, Where's my car?

In the spirit of full disclosure, Mike is a 5 start resort kind of guy.  I got him out camping once, back in 1993,  where he survived, but his camping gear did not.  He originally was not able to attend this ride, but his commitments changed and he opted in. To say I am ecstatic that he is here is an understatement.  This will be as big as an adventure for him as it will from me.  He should provide a balance to the stoic view I tend to put on things. 

WIN A TEE-SHIRT

Finally, to start this off right, a contest where the winner can win a tee-shirt of my choosing from some cheesy tourist trap along the route.  I was not able to bring everything I planned - I had to leave 2 items home.  The first person who can correctly guess the two items from the first photo in today's blog and post it to the facebook group** wins.  You can see a larger image by clicking the picture and after it loads in a browser window, click it again,  Only one entry per person.  Good luck.

** Be sure and join my facebook group "Brad's Alcan Adventure" if you are not already a member.  For details click this: Facebook group instructions

Tale of the Tape

This is where I will put in the Garmin track of the days ride.  Here is today's ride summary:

Miles: 0, Climbing: 0 (hotel room on 1st floor), Calories: -8 billion

Tomorrow - Day 1.....