Over the past several months, I've spent time gawking at the time on my calendar set aside for training rides. I'm training for my first Ironman-distance triathlon and I'm expecting to clock about 40 hours of bike riding from August to October. As the cycling time has increased from two, to three, to six hours a pop, I've found myself wondering not just how I will manage the distance physically but also where should I go to train?
I've discovered the Anchorage I can experience on two wheels is even bigger than I thought and, thankfully, entertaining. New sights distract my mind from the effort.
Here are some of my new, or newly expanded, routes.
Glenn Highway Trail
Even on the sunniest days, this trail isn't crowded. Maybe it's because it feels out of the way to most Anchorage residents or because it is kind of a utilitarian-feeling route along the highway. Still, smooth asphalt makes for an easy ride. There is a gradual uphill leading out of Anchorage; the kind of almost imperceptible uphill that makes you feel like a superhero when you turn around to fly back to town along the path. The people I do see on the trail range from families with kids on tricycles, runners, and lightning-fast blurs of color and Lycra I assume are competitive cyclists.
I can ride nearly 40 miles round trip on this trail; even longer if I tack on the Ship Creek trail at the beginning and end, or take a detour into Eagle River.
The trail officially starts at Davis Park in Mountain View as a sidewalk. Signs leading to Eagle River eventually bring the trail to what I've seen countless times driving on the Glenn -- the snaking, exposed trail that winds alongside the highway. In Eagle River, there are more hills and more shade, and the trail officially bottoms out in Chugiak. Adventurous cyclists may go on from there toward Palmer but need to use the highway for at least a stretch. Other cyclists eat a chocolate bar and turn around.
I like this trail because there are no worries about cars, and it's a straightforward, uncrowded ride. Construction in Eagle River has created a somewhat confusing detour, but if I can find my way through, anyone can. There is clear signage for cyclists for the duration of the trail.
Chester Creek to Campbell Creek trail
Time to celebrate, Anchorage. The 4-mile Chester Creek trail is repaved...almost. They'll be done later in the fall. However, there have already been noticeable improvements and the trail was fully ridable for a spell last week. For anyone else whose jaw used to snap shut hurtling over the concrete bumps rolling across the trail near Lake Otis Boulevard, they are gone. There were still a few gravel parts along the trail that gave me religion when I pray to whatever entity protects bike tires from spontaneous flats. But those are temporary, and overall, the asphalt is dreamy and smooth trail through Anchorage's greenbelt. I can't wait for the project to be completed.
While I've cruised up and down Chester Creek countless times, I haven't explored the 7-mile stretch of the Campbell Creek trail to the same extent. Historically, the Campbell Creek trail is something I've looked at on a map with curiosity. It's so big, I've thought. It runs so far south. It goes right past the Peanut Farm, which could be so convenient. I decided to go ahead and connect the trails on a recent ride.
I took the Chester Creek trail all the way to where it crosses Northern Lights Boulevard at Goose Lake and turned left to parallel Northern Lights for a mile or so. Then, at a roundabout feature on the trail, I took a right and rode south until I had University Lake on my right. Riding past the Alaska Native Tribal Health Consortium, I crossed the bridge over Tudor. Now officially on the Campbell Creek trail, it took a little while to turn definitively west, but it did.
I found Campbell Creek a little tricky to navigate. There was a confusing crossing at Lake Otis and a couple of turns that weren't clearly marked. Several times I ended up riding over a rutted portion of the trail only to dead end in a neighborhood or industrial park, wondering where I was.
Instead of definitively ending, the trail seemed to peter out with three separate termini at Dimond Boulevard, 88th Avenue, and Northwood Drive. It was relatively easy for me to hop onto the shoulder on Northwood Drive and then take a left onto Raspberry (I headed toward Kincaid to hook up with the Coastal Trail) but that's not for people who are not comfortable with road riding. The best place to park near the trail seemed to be the Dimond access at Victor Road.
I enjoyed this route because it allowed me to do a massive loop through Anchorage, mostly on trail. Since the Tour of Anchorage ski race has been canceled or significantly modified in the past couple years due to lack of snow, a bike allows a sweeping tour on two wheels instead of planks. Our city is blessed with an extensive wooded trail system, and I love getting to see so much of it in a few hours.
Seward Highway
The Seward Highway is not a bike ride I'd recommend for just anyone. Arguably, it's not a drive for just anyone either. I stayed away for a long time, watching cyclists on the side of the road warily, wondering if they would describe their experience to be more "harrowing" or "terrifying."
However, one early morning of a sunny weekday I happened to have off, I decided to try it. My training demands were growing, and I'd heard enough respected cyclists tell me if you're comfortable being a road cyclist in general, the Seward Highway is no worse than many other Anchorage roads. I figured if it really was harrowing and terrifying, I would bail at Potter Marsh and run crying for the Coastal Trail.
I took C Street all the way south and zig-zagged until I made it to the Old Seward Highway. I turned onto the Seward Highway, like I've done in a car so many times before. Someone directing traffic near a construction site said, "Beautiful day for a ride!". I agreed with him as I leaned into the curve and onto the highway.
You know what I discovered? A nice shoulder. Not a terribly wide shoulder, but a comfortable shoulder without much debris. Most importantly, I also found the view to be substantially different than it was in a car. Riding right up against the Inlet, flush with the road, and feeling the wind is incomparable to sitting in a metal box with wheels. I rode to Girdwood and back.
It did take a lot of attention to stay aware of and focused on drivers and parked cars. This is a beautiful ride but not a mindless pleasure cruise. It's also important to attempt only if you are a practiced bike commuter or otherwise know the rules of the road and are comfortable sharing the roads with cars to some extent. That said, with all that in place, it is a world-class ride. Someday I'd like to ride to Seward and take the train back.
Like many people, I get entrenched in habits and the littlest challenge to my routine can feel like a deal-breaker. However, my long rides go by a lot quicker when I have a new view, and that's been enough for me to keep seeking out new routes on my bike. Anchorage has a ways to go before it's fully bicycle friendly, but for distance riding there are some really incredible options out there that are absolutely worth exploring.
Alli Harvey lives, works and plays in Anchorage.