The good news is that mosquitoes don’t like the rain.

After an evening in Juneau assembling our bikes, we set off the following morning under heavy gray skies, following the Glacier Highway to the Juneau ferry terminal, where we board the Hubbard for a four hour sail up the appropriatly named Favorite Channel to Haines. This is one of the shorter trips these Alaska Maritime Highway vessels make and they are equipped with sleeping rooms and even a makeshift workout area on the car deck.

The Favorite Channel is a beautiful fjord, with chalky green waters and steep green mountains rising steeply from the rocky shoreline. It reminds us of Norway.

In Haines, the rain starts in earnest and we duck into the Mountain Market for a delicious lunch in hopes the rain abates. We buy provisions at the local grocery store and camp fuel next door. We debate buying bear spray but go for it when the owner dryly tells us that if we have a bear encounter, we’ll be glad to have it and a local woman chimes in to second his advice. A day later, it seems prescient.

As we ride out of Haines and along the Chilkat River, it starts to rain heavily. We are acustomed to riding in the rain, but it’s hard to stay warm. Three hours later, we are soaked as we pull into the Mile 33 Roadhouse, the last available services for almost 150 miles. It’s a remote outpost and what it lacks in friendly service, it more than makes up for with the food – burgers of course. The rain keeps coming down and we are a little dejected about having to find a place to wild camp in the rain. As we continue down the road, the rain gradually tapers and we find a beautiful sandbar on the river to pitch our tent. Getting out of wet clothes revives our spirits. We hoist our food bags into a tree and fall asleep to the sound of the river. It’s 8 pm and feels like afternoon. Later, I am awakened by birds singing and see that it is light, but look at my phone and realize it’s not morning but 10:30 pm.

We awake to ambivalent skies: pockets of blue amid dark clouds. We root for blue as we enjoy delicious camp coffee and oatmeal while watching the river and the snowy peaks beyond.

Not two miles out of camp, we see our first bear of the day, a black bear foraging next to the road. He puts his nose in the air and sizes us up before lumbering into the woods. Today the road takes us out of Alaska and into British Columbia up the lighty traveled Haines Highway to the Haines Summit at 3,000 feet. It’s a stunningly beautiful road, winding past snow covered peaks and rushing streams. It’s noon by the time we have seen a dozen cars. Of those dozen, one flashes its lights and slows down to warn us there is a very large grizzly up the road. We proceed cautiously and sure enough, see a grizzly walking along the road towards us. Both sides of the road are thick brush, so it’s either forward or backward for us. I whistle loudly and the bear keeps walking towards us. He is still far enough that we feel safe but he also seems intent on taking the road. I keep whistling loudly. The bear keeps getting closer. It is now apparent how large a creature this is. We are about to turn around when the bear ducks off the road and into the brush. We wait. We can’t see him but of course know he can’t be far. We cautiously pedal forward, though it’s slow going up a hill. As we pass where the bear left the road, we see him from between some trees and, pushing hard in the pedals, watch him eye us from maybe 30 feet away. He’s a massive beautiful animal with a prominent grizzly hump. It’s both exhilarating and chilling, but it’s clear he is not aggressive and we are quickly a safe distance away. I’m glad we bought the bear spray.

The scenery after Haines Summit is breathtaking, a green alpine valley between snowy peaks and, at last, blue skies. We enjoy a lunch of sardines on crackers and carrots with hummus sitting in a patch of wildflowers looking at the peaks. Another two hours of riding and we cross from British Columbia into the Yukon and a long descent brings us to Million Dollar Falls campground. We bump along the dirt road into the campground and the first person we see is a Japanese cyclist who can’t believe other cyclists have showed up. He is all class, wearing a bespoke bike touring outfit and a jaunty cap and is sipping whiskey out of a titanium cup. We let our wet clothes dry in the sun, chat with our new friend and walk to Million Dollar Falls. It’s only been two days but already feels like so much longer that we left Juneau.