The Alaska Book

In the summer of 2001, I quit my job and went north to ride my bicycle across Alaska.  What does that have to do with Taiwan, you ask?  When I got home, after riding over 1,200 miles and seeing the Arctic Ocean, I thought the adventure would end.  But it didn’t.  The adventure continues even today. 

Alaska, in a way, brought me to Taiwan.  I set out to write a book about my adventure north, and in the process, became an English teacher in Asia.  While the book was never published, I did manage to put out a children’s book for my Taiwanese students to read, so in some small way I feel like I have become that writer I always dreamed of.

Here are some selected passages from, The Alaska Book, the high points that I remember the most, the times when I wrote what I felt and was not afraid to share it with the world.  I hope by reading this you too will find your passion and follow your dream.  You have to believe there is something out there, or you will never go looking for it.

The Alaska Book – Selected Passages

By Daniel White

I looked out across the landscape for a place to sleep for the night.  Between the mountaintops was a high plain called Glacial Flats.  It was barren of features and the wind moved across it in gusts.  When the wind stopped, there was no sound at all.

…

I found a real curious place. 

Down the road was the faint trace of a turnoff.  Dirt tracks had been half-hidden by the low-lying vegetation that covered the plain.  The tracks led to a homestead of sorts.  Here was a cabin, a cooking area, and a pile of firewood.  Behind it was an outhouse with a half moon cut in the door and another structure that had not been finished.  Time and a lack of use hung on every corner.

…

There was frost on the ground in the morning.  I went out into the woods and found a single ray of sunlight coming down through the trees and stood there a long time, basking in the warmth and beauty of it.  Sometimes I could hear the raven calling, sometimes the eagle.  I couldn’t remember which day of the week it was.  I tried to think back to the last known day, counting forward from there.  This could have been Friday or Saturday, but I wasn’t certain.  I looked inside my journal for answers, but found none.

…

Clouds filled in the sky above, as if they were moving floods of water, drowning every open ounce of space.  A little rain fell down where the clouds overlapped.  Along the mountain rim they collided and splashed.  A storm has come upon me.  Soon I sank into its depths.  A gasp of air here and there as I was buoyed in and out of it.  Rain down my soul and thunder in my nightmare.  Morning brings safety.  Until then, I bare the shrieking winds alone.

…

I have this deep, unexplainable urge to leave everything behind.  I want to go to some place magical, where nothing I have ever known of exists.  It’s something I’ve felt inside me for as long as I can remember.  When I look closely at the land I see kinds of plants I’ve never seen before.  I begin taking pictures, proof that this place exists.  On the western horizon I see a string of calling mountains.  They are calling me to stop the car and head out over the vast landscape. 

…

Here the river flows north past ice-covered lakes.  I want to dive into such a lake, to be surrounded by it, filled up by it, completely becoming the lake.  I want the land to form me – not me always trying to form the land.  I want to give up control with my mind and run freely, no longer determining where I need to be.  I could get lost out here.  I am in another world.  The part of me that makes sense is no longer in control. 

…

I came down from the mountain.  An ethereal world faded out behind me.  I was on my way home again.  As I crossed the mountain pass and began to make my descent, a lightening storm flickered in my rearview mirror.  On the northern side of Antigun Pass I had seen caribou and musk oxen living in the wild.  Across the arctic plains – the expanse between the Brooks Range and the Arctic Ocean – were species of plants that did not exist anywhere else in the world.  That world was now being left behind me on the other side of the continental divide.

…

Some nights I sat wrapped in the mystery of what brought me here.  Was it the smell of the air, the cold, the warmth, the flight of a bird, or friendly play with a dog?  Each still memory is like a moment of silence.  Fading sounds, like the falling of the rain.  The miles, the many miles of searching down the road for a meal, a conversation, or a place to stay.  People living, all old or getting old, much like the land.  To me, a river is a drink of water.  Time is the mountains.  Sleep, exhaustion.  Nothing more.

River Trails in Northern Taiwan

River Trails

She sprinted past the tombs on her bicycle, fearful that some ghostly apparition might spring up and sweep us away to another world.  I raced around the bend in the river, just ahead of her, eager to put some distance behind us.  The tombs strung across the hillside looked down on us in vacant disregard.  Suddenly the scenery changed and we dropped down below a series of crisscrossing highways.

Diane and I were riding the Keelung River Trail in search of a route to Danshui, a thriving city on the northwestern coast of Taiwan.  Until recently sections of the trail remained unfinished.  Mr. Ma, now president of Tawain, pushed to have the circuit completed while in office as major of Taipei City.  The river trails provide quick access to many points in Taipei County and are a safe alternative to riding on the road, away from cars and traffic headaches.

Mr. Ma’s vision now stands complete.  The Keelung River Trail and the Danshui River Trail run uninterrupted, as if cutting Yangmingshan National Park off from the rest of the island.  Anyone eager to cross the northern tip of Taiwan on a bicycle will find a world of scenic opportunities here, all within a day’s ride away.

The route begins in the port city of Keelung.  Although the eastern side of Taiwan is mountainous, here the river stays flat and is easy to follow.  Once entering Xi Zhi, however, deciding which side of the river to stay on becomes a bit of a logistical nightmare.  After you’re ridden through this section a few times, you’ll know what I mean.  But, until then, just follow someone else and ask for directions whenever needed.

Once you’ve left Taipei County and entered the Taipei City limits, the river becomes less tedious to navigate.  You’ll see that sections of the trail are still under construction, mostly under bridges.  However, alternative routes and trailside maps are easy to find, leaving little chance of getting lost.  Also within the city limits, you’ll find plenty of places to stop and grab a bite to eat or stock up on bicycle accessories, if needed.  

The view from the top of the Dazhi Bridge is remarkable.  To the south of the river is Dajia Riverside Park.  Farther away, across Taipei, is the towering Taipei 101 building.  Dazhi Bridge is a good place to get on and off the trail, if you’ve had enough riding for the day and would like to return again sometime later.  If you don’t have a car, take the road to Yuanshan and throw your bicycle on the MRT.

The distinguished Dazhi Bridge marks the joining of the Danshui and Keelung River Trails.  Still, you’ll still be riding along side the Keelung River for a while longer.  West of the Dazhi Bridge, the trail grows narrower.  Here, also, the crowds get thicker.  Solitary vendors appear at stray intersections, offering bottles of water or small treats to eat.  It wasn’t until we came to the Guangdu Warf, by the Acuatic Birds Marshland, that we found a decent cup of coffee.  Next door to the coffee shop is a donut store and next to that is a bicycle shop.  Guangdu Temple is also an outstanding place to look into the past and admire tradition as it is still practiced today in Taiwan. 

The ride north of Guangdu Warf reveals a glimpse of the vast Danshui River, working its way northward toward the coastline.  Exits at Zhuwei allow you to access to a McDonalds or a KFC, if you’re really missing the calories.  Here you’ll encounter the Hongshulin Mangroves Marshland and birds will swoop down over your head in a race to the finish line.  Hongshulin is also a great place to throw you bicycle on the MRT, if you’re looking for a shortcut home.

Danshui is the final destination.  We got there early in the afternoon and spent an hour snacking along the waterfront at some of the night market shops.  I sampled a curry chicken wrap Indian-style and my wife picked out a sausage skin stuffed with rice.  You can buy a boat tour and cross to the other side of the river, if you’re looking for more places to explore from here.  But we had had enough and decided to save that adventure for another day.

The entire river route from Keelung to Danshui can be ridden in a day, but if you’ve little experience with long distance cycling, be aware that it will cost you around 60 km.  If you’re really an avid rider, getting there and back again in a single day might get your heart pumping.  For alternatives, look into riding the Xidian River Trail and the Danshui River Trail. 

If you’re from out of town and have little time to play, take the MRT to Danshui and rent a bicycle there.  Ride south to Zhuwei and take the alternate route north again, for a casual loop ride.  Or, if you’re feeling strong, push on to the Guangdu Warf before returning home again.  Whatever your flavor, search the Internet for more information before going.  Be sure to get out and enjoy the many routes to bicycle along the rivers in northern Taiwan today!