Downtown Anchorage from Ken Roberts on Vimeo.
Ken heads for Downtown Anchorage, off to enjoy some hospitality with John, convivial manager of the Bent Prop Inn Hostel. No snow or permafrost here. Just damp.
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Downtown Anchorage
September 13th, 2011Heading for Terra del Fuego
September 12th, 2011Heading for Terra del Fuego from Ken Roberts on Vimeo.
Fellow cyclist Amelia completes final preparations before heading off. Bound for Terra del Fuego, at the tip of South America. So, quite a way to pedal…
Lucky charms
September 12th, 2011Lucky charms from Ken Roberts on Vimeo.
Lucky cycling charm – a very thoughtful gift from host Linda to fellow rider Amelia. About to set off for Terra del Fuego, at the tip of South America.
Getting back on the road
September 11th, 2011Getting back on the road from Ken Roberts on Vimeo.
Sufficiently recovered after the long haul from Australia, Ken reassembles his trusty steed
Cooking on gas…
September 9th, 2011Cooking on gas from Ken Roberts on Vimeo.
Not content with simply subjecting his hosts to his wit and repartie, Ken prepares dinner. Fine English staple of cottage pie and medley of vegetables. Filmed in Aromavision.
Walk on the wild side
September 8th, 2011I’d been glad of the visit to the conservation centre. To see brown and black bears close up, albeit behind the wire. Far from making me feel more nervous about camping, it’d come away feeling quietly confident. Felt I now at least had the threat in perspective, understood the nature and the quality of the risk I’d be taking.
True, the first few nights might be unnerving. I get spooked by sheep. But I felt comfortable with the measures I’d need to take to say safe. And, crucially, was content I could distinguish between brown and black bears. For, in the event of an aggressive encounter, the steps you take are very different.
What I hadn’t quite appreciated was just how far out of Anchorage the centre was. A good hour’s drive. Another example of host Linda and partner Angie’s unceasing generosity.
Homely affair
September 4th, 2011
Like others on the staff, John had original been a guest in the hostel. Returning to Alaska after a decent spell in the US Air Force. A retired Lieutenant Colonel. I don’t think he’d ever imagined he’d end up running two hostels, a few miles apart in Anchorage. But that didn’t seem to matter, for it was quickly evident he knew how to look after his people, both staff and guests. Actually, I thought it was more than that. He cared about them, as you would family.
It had started with a simple, unremarkable e-mail. To Anchorage’s Bent Prop Inn Hostel. I must have included a link to my website, for John replied, inviting me to stay as his guest. Could he help with some PR? I’d taken him up on this. Keen to show I always did what I promised, I’d got a press release off to him pretty promptly. Assured him plans were in place, flights booked, I’d soon be on my way. Wouldn’t let him down.
I’d tracked him down on my second day in Anchorage, eager to introduce myself. Until then not quite appreciating just how busy he was. Quickly apparent that, despite this, he always had time for others, be they staff or guests. Lunch together, joined by owner Ben, a former pilot who’s antics had inspired the Bent Prop Inn Hostel’s name. His passion was break dancing, something, I was to discover a bit later, he’d used to tremendous effect in the slums of New York, helping to steer young men away from crime.
Many of the hostel guests were student workers. Chinese, Moldovians, Russians, Polish, mostly young people far from their families for the very first time, in a society quite different from their own. Working in local fast food outlets or in the fish factories. Early starts and long hours. The hostel their home, John and his team de facto loco parentis. Like Dave, also a former guest, with years of experience running a homeless shelter. There were rules of course. Sensible ones. Strict no alcohol policy for example. The sort of things that make communal living work. A very homely affair.
[With especial thanks to John, Ben and the team – Cindy and Lisa at the midtown site, Dave, Adam and Reggie at downtown. If you’re in Anchorage, I’d heartily recommend a stay at the Bent Prop Inn Hostel – click here for further details]
Linda’s place
September 2nd, 2011How Linda kept track of everyone I never quite understood. There’d been over three hundred guests in the last year. One evening there were nine us all told, six visitors, her partner Angie and Lewis the lodger. This, she explained cheerfully, was a little more than the norm. Split between three tents in the garden and three bedrooms.
Warmly greeted by Linda as I’d emerged from Arrivals at Anchorage airport, I’d been dropped off at the house before the other guests had risen. Not yet seven. Lewis first to appear, disappearing off quickly to work. Then Christine, a robust but friendly German. And fellow cyclists, Amelia and Tracy, camped in the garden. Lastly, Chloe. Hers was an adopted name, which pleased me as her Taiwanese one was quite unpronounceable.
Hectic it might have been at times, chaotic it was not. For there was an order, gently imposed as befits someone with many years experience working as a nurse in Corrections. And never ceasing to give everyone her full attention, to make you feel like a long lost friend. An impromptu birthday party on evening. Cake and candles.
[Ken found Linda thorough very reputable US website www.warmshowers.org – a forum for hosting fellow cyclists]
City that never sleeps
September 1st, 2011Unable to sleep I might have been, but entirely aware of my surroundings I wasn’t. As if in a dream, although a fairly lucid one at that. A voice. From where I wasn’t at first sure. Then the slow realisation it was from someone I felt I should recognise, for it seemed they were addressing me. A greeting. Yes. I remembered suddenly. Tracy. A fellow cyclist also staying with me at Linda’s house. We’d been introduced earlier.
It was very late, close on ten pm, but I’d decided to go shopping in a nearby supermarket. Thought I might as well do something useful whilst I wrestled with jet-lag in what seemed like almost perpetual daylight. In the summer Anchorage having as little as four hours twilight. Tracey and friend Amelia had ridden to the outlet, whilst I’d opted to walk. My trusty steed yet to be reassembled. Besides, I’d have been a danger to myself if I’d tried to ride.
I’d landed much earlier in the day, around five in the morning, a screaming child depriving me of even a dose on the overnight flight from Hawaii. Met by host Linda at the airport, I really had planned to sleep when she’d dropped me off at her house. But it wouldn’t have worked. Neither sufficiently tired to do so or, for the most part, alert enough to do anything useful. Instead, drifting about like a small boat parted from its moorings.
Around Anchorage
September 1st, 2011Providence Hospital, Anchorage. Small coffee shop, caught just before it closed. In need of caffeine. I’d not slept for more than four or so hours in the last forty eight, the seemingly perpetual daylight thwarting efforts to rest.
Second day in Alaska. First mostly taken up with recovering my trusty steed. I’d ventured into the city, eager to introduce myself to John at the Bent Prop Inn Hostel. He’d offered to help with some PR. I’d inadvertently gone to the wrong site, for there were two hostels, Downtown and Midtown. I’d headed to the latter, but it didn’t matter as he happened to be there.
He recognised me before I he. Soon dropped off at a nearby outdoor equipment shop, then lunch at a downtown bar. Joined by hostel owner and former US Marine Corps helicopter pilot Ben. John had a few things to do, so I headed off with Ben. Driving around the city for a while on a few errands. Hazy memories but quite sure I’d been introduced to a woman who’d survived a machete attack. Finally parting company at the US Geological Survey offices so I might find a decent map of Alaska.
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