Cycle Touring the Dalton Highway
The Beginning: Cycle Touring the Dalton Highway
“It began in cold, snowy Alaska... Me, my bike, and way more stuff than I could really carry.
I had decided that I didn't want a 'normal' job, but I also didn’t know what I did want to do.
So I saved up and flew myself to Deadhorse - a very aptly named place on the far north coast of Alaska.
No food shops, no homes, no trees... A very bizarre place. Nothing except an oil field, truckers, thousands of mosquitoes, and a long road heading south.
The road was made mostly of mud – thick and slick from the pouring rain. The wind howled relentlessly. I quickly had a cold sweat hugging my skin, and could barely balance my bike it was so heavy.
On the first morning, I woke up to find my bags had disappeared from outside my tent. Left without any food or equipment, I wondered if I would have to head home just a day into my trip. I got lucky though. A patrol guy I bumped into somehow found enough military ration packs to see me through to the nearest shop, 500 miles down the road.
Some months and 3500 miles later I was in Vancouver, scrounging bits of work to buy my flight ticket home and start TentMeals, hoping never to eat such bad food again.”
Jess Szekely, TentMeals Founder