Alaska: encounter with a bear
Alaska is a State of the Union. It is a myth. The Final Frontier. The Gold Rush, Arctic oil pipeline, the midnight sun, the farthest destination for seekers of dreams of freedom and the tomb of the boy idealistic Into the Wild (Towards wilderness). To me it means the end of the Route of the Explorers is forgotten because in Valdez Alaska, Spanish place name in the world's northernmost. Founded in the eighteenth century by the Catalan Salvador Fidalgo, represents the limit of Spanish exploration in North America. This concludes a journey that has taken me from Ethiopia to India or the Philippines through Borneo.
They are poignant silence, infinity arctic forest, tundra and the sun that never sets
Endless loop between valleys and snowy mountain ranges. I travel alone for many miles. I enjoy the pleasure to get carried away by the magnet of the horizon. Immersed for so many months in hell circulatory Africa, India and Asia, this desolation now strikes me as the most perfect paradise. They are poignant silence, infinity arctic forest, tundra and the sun that never sets. Give time and opportunity to think, to remember the past thousands of kilometers from the bike that I sent by ship from Manila to Vancouver.
It is amazing how easily we have to forget what our ancestors did in this cold side of the world. The first European to sail the waters around Vancouver Island was Juan de Fuca, sailing under the command of Philip II in the late sixteenth. Two centuries later appear as other Hispanic explorers Juan Francisco de la Bodega y Quadra, Alejandro Malaespina or Dionisio Alcalá-Galiano, national hero who died in the Battle of Trafalgar. That defeat in a bad name and a bad king because it was the beginning of an unstoppable decline would end in disaster 1898. The lace for the homeland honor was the loss of Cuba and the Philippines. A young nation called the United States released its international arrogance against a weak Spain, longer able to protect any greatness or win another war that was not against itself.
A young nation called the United States released its international arrogance against a weak Spain
But, none of that is evident here. Just peace and excitement of looking at a map and find many Spanish names in this American geography. Strait of Juan de Fuca, islas Quadra, Galiano, Revillagigedo, Tofino beach, Glacier Malasespina, Cordova and also the place I have chosen as their final destination Forgotten Explorers Route Project: Valdez, fishing port at the mouth of the Cooper River, access gate impressive Prince Williams Sound glacier and end of the famous Alaska pipeline.
Llego in Dawson City, Canada. The origin of this picturesque town was the gold rush 1897. One hundred thousand people stampeded from USA north when the news of the discovery. The Canadian government required them to bring a ton of food to keep at least one winter. Overcoming these mountains with such impedimenta was an ordeal and failing to end all. Just arrived 30.000 and less than 5.000 found the Dorado. Best of Klondike veins were already exploited when miners came south. Dawson is now tourist attraction city maintains its stamp of West. Wooden Buildings, play rooms where the seeds and the Kurdish sleeping hotels Miner. Thence Tok circulates the Roof of the World Highway between guns, mountains and valleys purest. It is a gravel track that is only open in summer. The border post is the Poker Creek is the northernmost U.S.. Just works eight hours a day and customs are the friendliest I have ever encountered in a U.S. border. For adventurers spend here only.
Wooden Buildings, play rooms where the seeds and the Kurdish sleeping hotels Miner
Alaska gets a huge lake, thousands of miles of tundra and a bear just out of hibernation hociqueando berries on the roadside. It Grizzlie un. I recognize the small hump. The State 49 Union is also of great bears. Are no joke or a toy. Each year there are attacks on humans. But the attraction is irresistible. I turn off the engine and let it take me silently inertia until it perpendicular. Dismounted. Saco my SLR. I see. The animal smells the intruder. It becomes. We observe. I aim. I know that is nonsense, but when I look through the viewfinder of my camera never feel afraid. It can be wild beasts, Paramilitary the terrible storms truenos the arena, But not me who shoots. I'm not there. I have actually disappeared from the scene and is like nothing could touch me except the thrill of meeting just two days' journey from Valdez after a year on the road.
