WITHOUT A PEDAL – A Bicycle Film about Snowboarding

WITHOUT A PEDAL – A Bicycle Film about Snowboarding

Now I don’t know much about filmmaking,
but I do know that every good movie deserves a sequel, and every good
movie starts with an idea. And for these two, ideas usually mean
adventures…painful adventures. And this is where we find our two
suffering protagonists, deep in the heart of interior British Columbia, pondering one of life’s great mysteries. Well, what should we do now? It’s been two years since the canoe trip. I don’t know, but I think it’s
time we make a sequel. Yeah, but what should we do? Everything’s been done. You know what?
I’ve always been wanting to go to Alaska. Seems like everyone who goes there
gets rich and famous. I mean, look at Travis Rice. He was basically a nobody
before he went there. You know what? You might be onto something there. We should get our agent on the phone and
see what he thinks about this. Oh, yes, you know what? You’d be my client if I could. You’re just so gosh-darn cute. I would make a million dollars
off of you. Oooooh… It’s buzzing again. Uh-oh. Hey, it’s Johan and Khattar. Oh, hey, boys. We’re gonna make a sequel
to Without a Paddle. It’s gonna be awesome. No way. We’re gonna make a sequel. That’s never been done before. Tell me more. I’m so interested. Okay, get this. We’re gonna make it big in….ALASKA. What? Alaska? Alaska. That’s never been done before. Only a million times by Travis Ricky. Here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna get Sean Dog at AK Heli
to get us the best guide. Then we’re gonna get Drake Air to fly us
deeper into the backcountry than anyone has ever gone before. An we’re going to do Alaska like… Listen, listen, listen. What the people want is more canoeing. So I’ll tell you what. Call me when you get another
canoe movie going. Until then…I’m busy. Call dropped… Whoa, that did not go very well. What should we do now? We have no sponsors. We have no agent. We have no money. You know what? To heck with that. We don’t need agents. We don’t need sponsors. We don’t need money. We’ll get to Alaska our own way… Hmm, I think you’re right. I mean, how hard can it be to
get to Alaska anyways? Sometimes, however, your ambition
exceeds your reach. And this is usually where a
good adventure begins. Man, we can’t give up here. We’re halfway there, dude. We’re like 1,300 kilometers
away from Alaska. Man, did I just hear Alaska? I reckon I’m headed there too. Well, boys, how are we gonna realize our
dreams of getting to Alaska? I don’t know. There’s just gotta be a way. There’s just gotta be. Question is, how? Did you boys say… you’re looking to get to Alaska? Cuz I might know somebody
who can help you. But it won’t be easy. I think this is the spot. Who are you? And what do you want? We’re trying to get to Alaska, sir and Mike down at the pub said you might
be able to help us out. Alaska? Meet me around back. These bikes need to get to Alaska. And they ain’t gonna pedal themselves. 1300 kilometers north of Vancouver. 4800 kilometers northwest from Toronto. 3300 kilometers north of Hollywood. 12400 kilometers northeast
of Sydney, Australia. And 4000 kilometers south
of the North Pole. In other words, about halfway between hell
and nowhere at all…is where you’ll find Terrace, British Columbia. Population 12,000. All of this to say: this is
big country suitable for only the toughest of hearts and
the thickest of skin. A place so rough and tumble, it makes God’s country look like a walk
in Central Park. Located on the traditional and unceded
territory of the Tsimshian people, Terrace is smack dab in the middle
of three valleys: The Skeena, Kitimat and Kitsumkalum Its European history can be traced
back to the 1800s when an Englishman by the name of Tom Thornhill
arrived in the area. But long before the official
town founder, George Little, established
Terrace in 1912, it was home to the Tsimshian Galts’ap
of Kitsumkalum and Kitselas. Located on the banks of the Skeena River, just
west and east of present day Terrace. Terrace, once known as the “Cedar Pole Capital
of the World”; providing cedar poles around the world for telephone
and power poles, has also been called the “Northern
Breadbasket” or ‘Okanagan North,” for its rich soil
and mild northern climate. These days, Terrace is regarded for its natural
beauty and is the kind of place that attracts a certain breed
of adventure seeker; the kind of people that aren’t afraid of
a little bit of pain and suffering. And most importantly, Terrace is exactly 1,350
kilometers south of Hanes, Alaska. And as our unlikely band of
brothers is about to find out that’s one hell of a bike ride. Johan: On days like this… you feel like you’re alive! Voice on Walkie-Talkie: Eyes Forward! Voice on Walkie-Talkie: Car Back, Car Back! Yeah Buddy! Ahhhhh It’s fine, the bike’s great. Umm. It’ll make
it to Alaska, no problem. The pedal with the crank arm
fell off on the ground. “Bike to Alaska,” they said. “It’ll
be fun,” they said. “Kitwanga” baby. Just about to cross the T’s and Dot the I’s on a 70 kilometer day. Yeah! This is it, the moment we’ve
all been waiting for. The Cassiar Highway, 1,300 kilometers
of pure adventure. After a hell of a first day on the road, that
saw the boys biking deep into the night. They arrived in Kitwanga: the doorstep to the Cassiar Highway, one of the most desolate roads in Canada. Ahhhh. Today was cold, today was windy,
today was miserable. But… …We’re not dead….. Yet. “Kitwanga”, or “Gitwangak”, meaning
“place of rabbits,” is a Gitsan village located in the
Skeena River Valley. It is the starting point of the Stewart-Cassiar Highway at the junction of the highways 16 and 37. This area has nurtured Northwest Coast
native cultures for over 7,000 years. With the Gitksan and Wet’suwet’en peoples
having always lived here, near where the Skeena River
meets the Bulkley River. There’s a cacophony or rather, a symphony,
of snoring, in the tent next door. Pretty much preventing anyone in the Kitwanga region from sleeping peacefully. Good morning. Good morning. We are just waking up from our first morning. Good sleep! Some of us, ah, had our breakfast in the shitter, some of us had our breakfast in the laundry room. Single-ply dude, what’s up with this? Garrett: Good morning! Garrett: Good morning! To Alaska! We have no idea what lays ahead,
we just had a truck driver pull over and basically tell us we
are nuts to go any further. All right, thanks for the warning! I don’t really know what to
make out of that. Right now it’s looking really
good, but I don’t think that guy would have pulled
over for no reason. Yesterday was definitely tough,
we didn’t get very far and I think it was as easy
as it’s going to get. In the North Hospitality abounds, it’s
a way of life, and here in Gitanyow, a small indigenous community, the boys got their first real taste of Northern
hospitality. Designated as a National Historic Site in
1972, Gitanyow at one point had one of the largest number of original totem poles
of any coastal First Nations village, many dating back from the
mid-19th century. Now less than 20 original poles remain. In 1928, Emily Carr visited Gitanyow and
painted many of the village’s poles. Garrett: We got hooked up with some fruit, guys! Johan: Oh really? Nick: Yeah, we got some fruit! Wow! The one thing I’m kind of
learning, just the hospitality of people in the
North is unreal. Everywhere we go, people are so friendly. Everyone says hi and waves
to you and want to know what you’re doing and wish
you luck and safety. It’s just been so friendly everywhere
we’ve gone. It’s about 76 kilometers for today. Oh, my ass cheeks just hurt so bad. Definitely our biggest day yet. Definitely the biggest hill we’ve gone up yet, and of course it’s at the end of the day. I can’t believe we have, like, well over a
thousand kilometers left to bike. Wow! First real hill here, just before we’re
making camp, day three of biking. The sweat is dropping from
my f***ing nose. My legs are jelly. And it feels like my tires don’t
have any air in it. It’s like nothing happens
when I’m pushing. Wow! And this is just the start. We had a super kind logger driving
back 50 kilometers unpaid, just to tell us that we’re
risking our own lives and we’re risking everyone’s lives if we are biking up this highway
in this weather. You guys are going to be in danger and
putting other people in danger. If somebody’s behind in a whiteout, they’re not going to be able to see you guys. So every trucker we’ve met so far is basically telling us definitely
not to go any further, and you’re stupid and you’re
going to die. Even if a truck wants to stop, it
might not be able to, right? Johan: No, exactly. With the weather closing in on them, and after some advice from some
concerned citizens, our crews settled into their surroundings and decided to use their snowboards to sample some
of the local topography. Look down at my foot. I’ve got something special. TellyTubby1 at your service. That was the gnarliest thing I’ve ever seen I’ve seen in a long time. *Laughing* “Oh my God.” Kind of cleared up. We had some sun for a bit. We see some blue patches, looking
pretty good. So even though it’s late into the day, we’re going to finally get
back on the road and keep heading er North. And kind of have like the biggest gnarliest
stretch of highway ahead of us for like the next
200-ish kilometers so… They’re…they’re nuts. They’re nuts, man. That’s ah, I would never dream of
doing something like that. SEMI UP! Pull over, Semi up, Semi up! OFF THE ROAD! Holy f**** oh my God. Mario Kart. We’ve been tearing up asphalt, it’s time to tear up some snow. Oh my God, this is probably the
sketchiest thing I’ve done in my whole life. SEMI BACK! Semi back! Cannot stop. After a few days of very sketchy biking, the team was held up on the
side of the road watching the snow accumulate. Now there is sketchy, and then there is “bicycling
through two feet of snow” kind of sketchy. And in the world of bad bicycling
conditions, it doesn’t get much worse than that. So after a few days of trying to
ride through bad weather, the team was held up on the
side of the road. Better get those snowboards
out again, boys. It’s a snow day, we don’t have
to go to school, Dad. Oh that was f******* fun man! Oooooh! Good morning. Day nine. Woke up to sunshine and blue skies. We thought it’d be a smooth sailing. Bunch of black ice on the road. Everybody went down a couple of times. Black ice. Holy (beep) Holy (beep) You okay? I’m fine, yup. Are you okay? I’m okay. Jesus Christ. High five, let’s get this shit off the road. Oh my God. Now the sun is up, melting things out. And, ah, we got the wide open road ahead. Finally get to see the mountains again. Popping out, spines everywhere,
starting to froth out. Makes me want to ride this
bike a little faster. Fresh blueberry. That’s nice. But we don’t actually bring bowls. You just eat your breakfast out
of last night’s entree. So this might be oatmeal, but it could still taste like
spicy sausage pasta. Uh Huh yeah. It does. Worm! Lets go. After a couple of spills and
some mechanical issues, the boys had reached the town of Cassiar. Cassiar, British Columbia,
established in 1952 and played a significant role in
Canada’s mining history. The Cassiar Asbestos Corporation
developed Cassiar as a company town, providing housing, schools, and amenities for workers
and their families. At its peak, Cassiar had a population
of about 1,500 people. The mining operation was central
to the town’s existence, producing large quantities of
chrysotile asbestos, which was a major product for various industrial appliances
at the time. By the late 20th century, the dangers of asbestos exposure
became widely recognized, leading to a major decline in demand
for asbestos products. In 1992, the mine ceased operations, resulting in the town’s eventual
abandonment. Today, Cassiar stands as one of Canada’s
youngest ghost towns, with most of its buildings
and infrastructure left to the elements. It serves as a poignant reminder
of the rise and fall of single industry towns and the broader economic
and health impacts of asbestos mining. Now it would be nice to think
that the boys had earned a little R&R, having not yet taken a single rest day, but no time was to be lost. See, you never know when an
adventure like this could all come to a screeching halt. That’s why adventures like these aren’t about comfort and leisure. They’re about getting after it. And not every day you find
yourself on a bicycle in the middle of Canada’s
youngest ghost town, surrounded by some of British Columbia’s finest-looking mountains. So… …after it…. ….they got. First day in like five or six
days or seven days…. ….trying to snowboard….. ….hiked up this mountain….. …as you can see, the snow to
the Cassiar Mountains…. ….is not really plentiful right now. Yeah dog! Out here in the Cassiar, I wanted to ride some lines today but the weather closed in. So, you see that mountain range
in the background over? No, you don’t, because it’s socked in. We saw it 20 minutes ago, but she gone. So, lines are not getting ridden today. So, we decided to build a jump,
have a jump session. And yeah, at the end of the jump session, don’t really know what happened, but a screaming match broke out between one of the boys and
Logan, our filmer. A lot of things were said. Logan got told to go home and sent down the mountain by himself. So, that wasn’t very good. Yeah, it just seems like maybe tensions in the crew right now
are riding really high. It’s been a long trip. Everyone’s probably really tired. Yeah, tempers are starting
to flare out here. So, I don’t know, might have to do some… Team building or something. I don’t know. We’re on top of the worlds largest asbestos mine tailing. And it’s super gnarly. Looks like a mountain of bird poop. The snow is collapsing everywhere. Whoa. Are you guys okay? I’m already itchy. This is bad. Yeah, everything. It’s (beep) nuclear itchy, man. Have you ever seen an asbestos
avalanche before? I have not. I ran over the bank and I
didn’t see you guys Yeah. And I saw the pile of snow and was like “well they’re dead.” Because there’s no way we’re gonna
be able to dig them out of that. With just over 600 kilometers
left to Haines, Alaska, this marked the halfway point
of the boys journey. The boys were starting to get worn down and things were getting mighty
testy amongst the crew. So, after blowing off some steam
on the mountains and each other, the boys decided a rest day
was finally in order and they decided to settle
down in Jade City for a day before starting the
next leg of the journey. Yeah, we’re kind of just in
Jade City for a night. Staying in this cute little
place here I got called the Dog House. And ah….. ……right out back, found this old, dilapidated truck. We’re supposed to leave today at 8 a.m…… Meeting at 8 30. It’s 9 20. ….to start biking north again. Instead, what happened was around 8 30, a fight broke out. This is not happening. (beep) (beep) Dude we’re not gonna fight each other. We’re we’re (beep) adults! I’m not hitting him! Get the (beep) off him! We’re not gonna (beep) knock people out or shit! Okay, this is it (beep). This is where it ends then. This is where it f****** ends! Sometimes lady adventure can
be a cruel mistress. She does not give her love away for free. Sometimes she requires a sacrifice. And so…. ….there were three. Left alone to bicycle over 600 kilometers of rugged Yukon and Alaska territory. If there was ever any room for
error on this trip to begin with, it’s safe to say it was all gone now. The fate of our three amigos
was now in the hands of the road. Not always a great place to be, but a great place to continue
movie from. Fate or just pure dumb luck. The boys would now need all
the help they could get. Probably minus 20 last night. Every single drop of water we had was chalk frozen this morning. Brutal. I kinda just wanna jam my hands
inside my jet boil. It’s a (beep) bike tire. Why is this giving us so much
goddamn trouble? Now we’re just changing words. Okay good. i didn’t want that anyway. We started here. We’re now here. And we have to go all the way to here. Now we’re boiling water. to try to defrost the water filter so we can go down to that creek and get drinkable water. This is obviously how the pilgrims
used to do it. Whoa! It’s March 25th today. Left Jade City super late yesterday after yesterday’s drama and insanity. Bikes are starting to become an issue and definitely noticed the landscape has now changed dramatically like we’re definitely out
of the mountains. All I can see is this mixed
forest around me which is pretty cool. We’re feeling all right mentally. even though, we definitely have
a lot ahead of us. So we’re just hitting the junction 37 and linking up with the Alcan Highway. Just about 250 kilometer
to the next place where we can get food and supplies. The three Amigos pushed north saying goodbye to the Cassiar Highway and hello to the famous Alaskan
or Alcan Highway and the frigid Yukon territory. With every kilometer that rolled by, it felt like the highway
was getting longer but the mountains were getting bigger. But the boys were running dangerously
low on food and with hundreds of kilometers until the next possible resupply stop, things were about to get… ….desperate. Okay, so it’s like 7.30. We’ve biked about maybe almost 80km today. We’re like 10 kilometers away from
a place called Ranchera. It’s basically, I don’t even know
if it’s a real town. Well Worm realized that he’s got
another slow leak. It was basically flat, so
pretty worried now because kind of down to our
last fresh tube. Kind of have enough food to
rough it to Teslin, but we don’t really know. Oh yeah. I’m gonna ask them if I can buy some food. You have some cash on you? I do. So, we’re in Rancheria. It’s kind of like this little
rest stop town. Everything’s closed. And we found a house. Johan’s asking if they’ll
sell us some food. Thank you so much. You’re welcome. Thank you. This super kind couple that used
to run this motel, it’s been closed for three years. Um I just knocked on their door because we ran out of
supplies completely. But I managed for 50 bucks to buy a
pack of smokes for Worm, Six cans of food and they’re cooking us hamburgers right now. What? So… They’re gonna cook us hamburgers? And six eggs boiled. So, they’re hooking us up so much. We’re appreciating it so much. We’re gonna go up and set up the camp and be back in 15 minutes and
get hamburgers and eggs. Wow! Yeah here’s for you. God damn, this is the first, like,
hot, real food that wasn’t dehydrated, we’ve had in days. That’s the best burger I’ve ever had. What can you say? It’s a way of life in the north. People just look out for one another. God, this is terrible. Just sleeping next to out-houses
at truck stops. Damp frosty night, if you can
see all that stuff. Because it’s so cold out,
I have to sleep with….. ….my cooking gas…. ….phone, the battery charger, because
it won’t charge while we’re biking because it’s too cold. We got my neck warmer. We got some socks. We got base layer. One pair of chamois. Some gloves. Another pair of chamois. I’ve got another pair of socks. Those are my electric socks. Cooking water or socks. More socks. Nope, that’s it for now. Oh man, so here we are at Rancheria. Coldest morning yet. Everything is just frosted right up. Oh, here’s the chicken noodle
soup that I slept with in the sleeping bag to keep
it from not freezing. Got it. This is day four of pedaling with
very little supplies. We’ve been basically living off knocking
on strangers’ doors, asking to buy food, asking
strangers at rest stops to fill up our water bottles. Here, can I just grab a tiny little bit? Oh yeah, yeah, thanks. Yeah whatever you can spare. Oh man, thank you so much. (screaming) Just got off the Alaskan Highway. We’re now on the Tagish Highway, heading towards Carcross. It’s gonna be nice to get a little
bit closer to AK, and after today, just two
days left of biking. I think we finally did it. I think we finally broke the 100
kilometer barrier in a day. Nuggie! GoPro Nuggie! After 22 days on the road, the boys rolled in to Carcross. A town that looked like it was born
in a Jack London novel. Yeah, Worm, how does it feel
to be almost in Alaska? Feels good, I’m ready to get
the hell off this bike. Ready to have a rest day too. Carcross, or Caribou Crossing,
as it was once known, is a small former Gold Rush
town in the Yukon. However, long before the Gold Rush, the Carcross, Tagish First Nation, called this place home, with their ancestry including
Tagish and Tlingit. Their traditional lands include the
Yukon River Headwaters, ancient trails in the coastal mountains, and vast lakes surrounding Carcross. But it was the Klondike Gold Rush that really put Carcross on the map. Skookum Jim and Tagish Charlie discovered the first gold that started the Klondike Gold Rush. Both were Tagish First Nations
from the Carcross area. Skookum Jim was wealthy when he died and left a large sum of money
to a trust established to improve the health and education of the Yukon’s First Nations people. Prospectors from all over the world passed through Carcross on their way up to strike it rich in the Klondike region. Carcross became a bustling stop along the White Pass and Yukon
Route Railway, connecting Skagway, Alaska
to Whitehorse, Yukon. In 1899, Fred Trump, grandfather
of Donald Trump, and his partner, Ernest Levin, opened a two-story restaurant and brothel in Carcross at Bennett Lake, which they called the Arctic, offering food, booze, and sex. This would turn out to be the birthplace of the Trump family fortune. As the Gold Rush frenzy faded, Carcross settled into a
quieter existence, but its rich history remained, with the historic buildings and landmarks still standing today, telling tales of the town’s glory days. Now the boys found themselves
on the doorstep to the last frontier, and the only thing that stood
between them and Alaska was an 80-kilometer uphill push through the historic White Pass. Big day for the crew. Can’t really say I can see
the finish line yet, but I can smell the finish line, and it smells like a few dozen
pints of beer, 12 cheeseburgers, and whatever else we can
get our hands on. For all of these 1,300 kilometers, been waiting for this point. It’s all downhill from here, boys. We are going way too fast for
how our rigs are set up. This is f****** crazy!! We biked 1,300 kilometers
for this, and it was worth every bit. Would you do it again? Never. We’re here in Haines, and we
just picked up Seb, and we’re just giving him a
little understanding of what it is like to pedal our bicycles. Time to live it up I guess. We truly done did it. Haines is right over here. Well, boys, we made it. We truly did, huh? I think the only thing that
could make this better is if we had some beers. Hi, Johan. Finally here. It’s great. Everything is really great. I loved everything. These guys are the best. I love making decisions. I love talking about everything. It brings me joy. Now in Haines, Alaska, waiting
on weather, and with money, time, and
resources dwindling, the boys were forced to seek out… …let’s just say…. ….alternative
accommodations. So, kinda got a lead on a place that we’re supposed to stay. They call him the Wolverine Man,
and we have no idea, but we think this might be
the place it says. Wildlife Centre so we’re
gonna go up here and see if this is actually where
we’re supposed to stay. Let’s go. This place is actually insane. There’s like animal bones everywhere, and all these crazy signs about
eating tourists. I kind of hope we’re in the wrong place, because this is really creepy. There’s a bunch of skulls,
a bunch of bones, and a bunch of different animals and cages. There’s actually a pile of
bones right there. There’s a pile of bones. What? It smells like game. His previous victim. Is that a meat grinder? Oh, you’re here. Hello, hello, are you Steve? Yes, I am. Steve, I’m Nick. This is our crew. We..you guys spoke on the phone. We were wondering if this is
the place to stay? Not in this one. Oh, okay. This’ll scare the living hoo outta ya. Okay. This is where I live. You’re in the hotel around the corner. It’s called the Apollo House. Okay, I’m gonna get you some towels and go in there and take a look. It might scare the living hoo outta ya, and you don’t wanna stay. Yeah, thanks a lot. We’ll talk to you soon, Steve, I guess. All right, let’s check this out. So, all of these things running
outside of the house and into the house, animals are
running up and down them. And all around the whole property. We have a network of the weasels and Pine Martens running around
our residence. So that feels safe. We’re gonna go and get the grizzly bear
out of hibernation. So Steve’s gonna feed his bear
a bunch of pies. Aaaaah, Kitty! Pet it’s arse like you never petted
an arse before. Yes. That’s it. “Owl language” After what seemed like weeks held
up in the funny farm watching it rain, the boys finally
got a weather window. And even though the window was
only a day or two, they decided that if there was any hope of doing any snowboarding in Alaska,
they had to go for it. So, with not much more than
hopes and dreams, they set forth into the wilds of
the Alaskan backcountry. It is now seven o’clock in the morning and we’re splitboarding up a mountain. We’re basically given up on plan A, which was the best idea: a flight with the legendary Drake
Olsen up to a base camp. We would stay there for five days
and just get it. But unfortunately the weather
hasn’t been cooperating. Plan B, we’ve given up on as well, which is using a helicopter company to get us to the base camp. Now there’s so many big name snowboarders and skiers here
with huge budgets and there’s simply not enough space
for dirt bags like us. So we’re down to plan C, which
is using our legs and we have to splitboard up
this snowmobile trail to then set base camp on a glacier. Then we have to wake up super
early tomorrow to try to beat the helicopters out to some of the zones that they’re riding and try to get on the lines before them. Made it up to Alpine and now we’re just gonna hike straight into
the fog over there. It’s probably five hours, we’ve
been on the splitboards. We heard rumors of an old mining cabin. We had no idea if it was true or
if we were gonna find it. This is it. It’s got a huge snow drift in here. We got in through the window,
we’re f***ing stoked. We’re gonna unbury it, throw
our gear in here and go make some skin tracks out
to the spines of Alaska. Cabin boys. So 3.30 a.m. wake up in the cabin. There’s Worm. Out there…. …are the lines we’re gonna ride and
we’re gonna get there before the helicopters show up. Figure it out. Just gonna cross a bit of a scree slope and try and get onto the glacier. Okay, so we got a helicopter flying in
to our zone. We did beat them. There they are, just hoovering in. Haha, heck yeah. Feels good to be walking into the lines
and the people flying are late. Okay. Drop in ten. Dropping. Well despite all odds, the boys had done it. They got the bikes to Alaska and even managed to get
some snowboarding done. There were plenty of highs
and lows along the way, but what great adventure doesn’t
come with a little, or a lot, of adversity? I believe they call that:
character building. But what did they learn along the way? What good is going on in adventure if you
don’t learn some kind of lesson? So what do we do now? D-Watt never told us what to do
with these bikes once we got to Alaska? I guess. Oh, boys, it was never about getting
the bikes to Alaska. It was about hitting the dusty
old trail with your buds. Testing your metal. Seeing what you’re made of. It’s about discovering the true
meaning of adventure. And I think you found it. But those bikes, those bikes were hot. They needed to go ASAP. I had to ditch them. So if anybody asks, you never saw me. Right on, D-Watt Yeah. So whatever happened to those boys
that were heading to Alaska, did they ever make it? Well, let’s just say the road provides. I don’t know about you, but I take
comfort in knowing that. And so that just about does it for our
boys’ big Alaskan adventure. Wraps her all up. And everything seemed to work out pretty
good for our boys, didn’t it? Sure, there was a little bit of drama,
but it was a pretty good story. And that’s the thing about a
good story, isn’t it? It usually comes with a little
bit of drama. That’s the human condition. That’s what keeps us coming
back for more. That’s what drives the need for adventure
in the first place. The hunger for good stories. Well, now look at me. I’m rambling again. Anyway, I hope you folks enjoyed
our little story, and we’ll catch you further
on down the road. You went to Alaska? The film’s done? I told you guys. I told you Alaska was the ticket. Didn’t I? Yeah, you got to get out of
those boats, I said. You got to get out of the boats
and go to Alaska. You’re welcome. 15%, right? Right? Hello? Hello? Call dropped. Call dropped Hello? Hello?

Join a wild adventure where four friends with no plans other than snowboarding and camping, embark on a 1350km winter bicycle mission from Canada to Alaska . Narrated by Jamie Lynn.

After receiving multiple nominations and awards for their first film “Without a Paddle – A Canoe Film about Snowboarding”, Johan Rosen and Nick Khattar have returned with an equally ambitious sequel. In the pursuit of glory and fame and through an unexpected turn of events they find themselves on an extreme winter bicycle trip towing trailers packed with snowboards, camping gear and a piano…down one of Canada’s most remote highways: Route 37 – The Cassiar Highway.
The goal? Snowboarding the legendary spines of Alaska. 

Will they make it to the promise-land or will the dangers of the road swallow them alive?

Directed by Nick Khattar & Johan Rosen
Narrated by Jamie Lynn
Written by Nick Khattar
Produced by Johan Rosen & Stephen Hare
Edited by Johan Rosen
Cinematography by Logan Williams, Nick Khattar & Johan Rosen

Starring: Nick Khattar, Johan Rosen, Garrett Warnick, Colin D Watt, Jamie Lynn, Seb Grondin, Steve Kroschel, Justin Hostynek, Andrew Hardingham, Kitty The Grizzly Bear, Jonas Quinn

Sponsored by: The North Face, Salomon Snowboards, BN3TH, Okanagan Spring, Nitro Snowboards, Cannondale

Supported by: (All small brands)

All rights reserved, Northbound Productions