The ride to the Knik Glacier ranks as one of the most scenic rides, anywhere, and it is very accessible. It is close to Anchorage. It is an easy ride in winter, but only for a few short weeks or months, usually late in the season. We first rode here in 2012, at the end of a record season of snowfall. We attempted to reach the glacier last week from the north side of the river, from the Jim Creek Trailhead, but turned back due to time constraints. This weekend, with 24 hours to spare, Lael and I pedal out of the city with high hopes.
On Sunday afternoon, we are pedaling towards the Hillside trails without ambition. The day is sunny and warm, but the pattern is tired. Around 4PM, I suggest, “let’s ride out to the glacier”.
We turn back home and morph our Salsa Mukluks into adventure mode. I’ve loaned some essential bikepacking gear to a friend, who is riding the Denali Highway. Using some dry bags and gear straps, we pack creatively- and lightly- to carry only what we need.
Each of our bikes is laden only with a 30F sleeping bag, a vapor barrier liner, a maximum layering system for the cold, and our cameras. We will pick up some food en route, in Eagle River. Simple, except that it is already 6:30PM.
The route out of town includes snowy multi-use trails and paved cyclepaths for miles. Alternating dry pavement and ice exist on the bike trail through Eagle River, Chugiak, and Peter’s Creek.
We stop at the supermarket in Eagle River to stock our bags with food.
Continuing east, twilight guides us along paved paths. Eventually, our route leads to the shoulder of the Glenn Highway. We slowly descend down to sea level, and exit the Glenn Highway for the Old Glenn Highway, a smaller section of road along the Knik River.
By the time we turn off the pavement to look for a campsite, it is nearly midnight.
We lay down a groundcloth, sleeping pads, and our bags. We put on all our layers, slip into our vapor barrier liners, and arrange our things. I have a habit of organizing my things when camping. Dry socks and a snack ensure a warm night. Still, in our minimal sleeping systems, it is a good idea to keep the door closed. We both bury deep into our bags.
By morning, ambient light appears on the horizon at 5:30AM. Light falls far across the valley at 8. We are camped in the shade aside a northwest facing mountainside, until the sun rises over nearby mountains at 9. We pack our things and push out to the road. Cold fingers and toes are not uncommon, especially as we are not using any specialized cold-weather gear. However, Bjorn and Kim from Homer, AK are riding across the state of Alaska and have just crossed the Arctic Circle. They know a few things about unsupported winter travel.
The end of the paved road, and the beginning of the ride on the river, is about 17 miles away. By the time we arrive to meet our friend Carp, we are warm.
Carp is waiting with a thermos full of coffee. While we’ve just regained warmth in our fingers, we’re both happy to pile inside his warm van and unload some gear for the day. Overnight lows in the teens diminish as the sun rises high in the sky.
We load our framebags with snacks and ride onto Hunter Creek.
A series of fatbike tracks leads from the wooden bridge on Knik River Rd. There is a lot of dry gravel, and not a lot of snow.
This time of year, the ice is melting fast. This area is a playground for fatbikes.
The glacier is visible in the distance, and for part of the ride, a broad doubletrack leads the way.
Several ice bridges over the Knik River are critical to this route. At one point, we cross ice which has begun to visibly crack, although it appears solid.
Just downstream there is open water.
A short distance upstream, the river is also open. These routes won’t be open for long. It is April already.
The frozen banks make for the most efficient pedaling.
Leading to gravel tracks, and some untracked tundra.
Across a gravelly plain, we reach the end moraine. This mounded pile of unconsolidated sediment contains the glacial lake.
This is the place. This is what we have come for.
The lake is frozen in winter, and contains remnant icebergs from the glacier.
Which makes for a fatbike playground.
Already, some open water in a few places.
Nearer to the glacier, icy slot canyons allow passage.
We stop for a rest amidst an icy solar vortex. Sunlight reflects from all sides. It must be sixty degrees in here. Watch your step– I plant a foot into knee deep slush. Spring is working fast.
After sunning ourselves for an hour, we turn back.
One last look from atop the moraine before pedaling downstream. On this day, we are treated to a light tailwind towards home. The ride from Hunter Creek is about 9 miles in each direction, with very little elevation gain.
An abundance of scenic springtime rides in Alaska could be the basis for a new tourism. Many high-caliber adventure rides are accessible from town, and with a decent set of legs, are attainable by any cycling enthusiast. In changing winter conditions, there are plentiful riding opportunities from groomed in-town singletrack, hut-to-hut alpine passages, beach rides, river rides, glacier rides, section-riding on the Iditarod Trail, and more. Come visit Alaska!
Late march may be the best time of year up here.
Fresh from the source, with very little silt this time of year.
On the way back we follow some well-travelled tracks.
But soon realize we’ve taken a wrong turn. A small drainage separates us from Hunter Creek. No matter, we each find our own way across.
Carp, a seasonal fisherman and boat captain, float tests the Pugsley.
Lael utilizes the beavers’ dam.
XtraTuff boots full of water are no fun, but all of this fooling around is just early signs of summer.
Lael and I go for a swim. This weekend marks our first sleepout and our first swim. The seasons are changing.
A bit of routefinding brings us back to the trail. In a few months, all of this will be entangled in prickly plants, mosquitoes, and bears. Spring is better than summer in a few ways.
Back on trail!
Until next year, we’ll revel in memories and photographs of Knik. I’m starting to realize that the rides we find are getting better and better, from Belgium and Ukraine, to Arizona and Alaska. However, I don’t think they’ll ever get better than this one.