The Rise Up Ride: Day 62-65, The Inside Passage
Date: 23-26 June 2021
Start Location: Bellingham, WA
End Location: Haines, AK
Of all the sustainable conveyances, the ferry is near the top of my favorites. First, of course, is the bicycle. But up there with cable cars, trains, and funiculars are the coastal ferries. There's nothing quite like the thrill of rolling your bike across a ramp and onboard a ship to cross a large body of water on a voyage to pedal off down another road. Four days ago I wheeled onto a Alaska Marine Highway ferry for the trip up the Inside Passage to Haines.
The MV Matanuska is a fine ship for carrying about 46 cars and several hundred people across the calm waters of the Inside Passage, a spectacular sailing route that snakes through the archipelago of verdant snow-capped islands from Washington State along the Pacific Coast to coastal British Columbia and into Alaska. The "Mat" has a deck for cars, a deck for staterooms and a rear deck that could be used as a helicopter pad, but is put to better use as a campsite for intrepid travelers. It is here, in the new version of "steerage", where those bound for adventure in Alaska set up camp, using Gorilla-Tape to stake down our tents. Under a full moon on the longest days of the year at 55°+ N, there was enough light to see the inlets, fjords, waterfalls, and assorted marine life as dusk slowly melted into dawn each day, never really getting dark throughout the night. And there was no finer spot to take it all in than up amongst the half-dozen tents on the aft upper deck.
I've often pondered the "winnowing" effect that takes place on the edges of existence. It seems that the individuals who find their way to the tops of mountains, at the ends of paved roads, or perched out over the ocean looking for orcas from the railing of a coastal ferry, have self-selected themselves as fairly interesting uniques. The small group of travelers who found their way to the upper deck of the Matanuska were a fascinating collection of characters, on their way to climb, paddle, tramp or pedal into the wilds of Alaska. I'd like to thank Coleus, Scot, and their boys Finn and River for being excellent company on the voyage. To my Berkeley brother, Danny, kayaking into the fjords for his annual commune with nature, I'm in awe. Our little community gathered for an ephemeral moment of stories and laughter and then scattered just as quickly as a dozen new adventures into the wilds of Alaska.
All of the variable coastal ocean weathers blew, dripped, and shined on us throughout four days and three nights out there on the aft deck. There was coffee at 6:00 am and a surprisingly good cafeteria one deck below, as well as hot showers and clean bathrooms. I'd been camping for weeks, so doing it onboard was not much different but even better because I didn't have to worry about mosquitoes or bears. Usually filled with dozens of floating hotels, the Inner Passage was all ours to enjoy.
My ticket would have been more expensive to change than to buy an additional ticket back to Haines, so I said farewell to folks when we stopped there and continued on for a stopover in Skagway. The joke is, "What is Alaska without cruise liners?.... Lovely!" But Skagway, which only really exists in non-Pandemic times to entertain the thousands of tourists who flood the town off gangplanks, was just sad. It reminded me of an abandoned old west film lot, with boarded up curio shops and kitschy bars that used to be busy and before that, brothels. I made it back to the Matanuska before she sounded her horn and departed back down the inlet to Haines, a lovely town that survives, thankfully, on more than just cruising tourists.
It appears unlikely that I'll be able to get into Canada to continue my journey through Northern British Columbia and the Yukon. There are reports of new outbreaks of variants in Whitehorse and the Feds in Ottawa are not likely to allow non-essential travelers (even those of the vaccinated variety pedaling bicycles and camping out) to enter the country, much less the Province, in the next few weeks. Oh, Canada, he said, exasperatedly.
I've decided to abandon all hope of riding from here to Atlin to visit friends, but will return to Juneau on the next ferry and then cross the Gulf of Alaska on the MV Kennicott to Whittier, outside of Anchorage, on Sunday. From there I'll take the train (no bicycles allowed in the tunnel connecting the port with the rest of Alaska) onwards to Denali National Park to begin my ride again on the gnarly gravel of the Denali Highway east to Paxton and Glenallen. Or, maybe something else!
