In June 2013, Mac Hollan, a 35-year-old school teacher from Sandpoint, Idaho, set out with two friends on a 2,750-mile charity bicycle ride from Idaho to Prudhoe Bay, Alaska. On July 6, while passing through a remote part of the Yukon Territory, Hollan had an encounter…that he will never forget. Here’s the whole story, from Hollan himself.
THE ATTACK
It was around 2:30, about 60 miles west of Watson Lake. I was a bit ahead of the guys when I heard something to my right. Thinking Gabe or Gordo had caught up without me noticing, I looked over my shoulder and was shocked at what I saw. The first thought that ran through my head was, “That is the biggest damn dog I have ever seen!” This surreal moment of shock and confusion passed immediately—as the “dog” lunged for my right foot and snapped its jaws, just missing my pedal.
WOLF!
At this point I received the biggest jolt of adrenaline I have ever had in my life. Without so much as a thought I shifted my bike to the highest gear possible, started to mash the pedals like never before, and reached for the bear spray in the handlebar bag. I threw off the safety and gave the wolf a quick blast in the face, which served to slow him down so that he was now twenty feet behind me but still not stopping. He hung back for maybe 20 seconds and then raced forward and attacked my panniers [baskets], in the process ripping my tent bag and spilling my poles onto the highway.
I gave him another shot of pepper spray, which again backed him off to about 20 feet behind. Despite pedaling like I have never pedaled before, the wolf kept pace with me easily. It was at this point that I saw an 18-wheeler round a corner, and began to wave, shout, and point to the wolf frantically. As the truckdriver slowed I began to breathe a sigh of relief, thinking if I could just get off my bike and into the truck fast enough I would be safe. After taking a good look at the scene…the driver resumed his speed and drove on.
At Humber College in Ontario you can earn a four-year degree in Comedy Writing and Performance.
This same scenario would happen to me four separate times, with my desperation growing with each car that passed me by. Every time the wolf would begin to close on me again, I would shoot a quick blast of bear spray behind me to slow him down.
As I came around yet another corner, to my horror I saw a quick incline, and knew that I would not be able to stay in front of this wolf for much longer. I just kept thinking about all the shows I have seen where wolves simply run their prey until they tire and then finish them. It was a surreal moment to realize that I was that prey, and this hill was that moment. The only plan I could think of was to get off my bike, get behind it, and hope that I had enough bear spray to deter him once and for all when he got close enough.
HOPE
It was also at this point that I realized I might not be going home, and I began to panic at the thought of how much it was going to hurt. About 0.2 mile before the hill I saw an RV approaching from behind me, and I knew this was it. I placed myself squarely in the center of the road and began screaming at the top of my lungs, “Help me, there’s a wolf, please help me!” while waving frantically. Seeing the situation the driver quickly passed me and stopped on a dime right in front of my bike. I don’t know how I got unclipped or off my bike, but I swear I hurdled the handlebars without missing a beat or letting go of my can of bear spray. When I got to the back door of the RV still screaming, the door was locked. In an absolute panic I began to climb in the passenger window, but the driver reached across and threw the door open to let me in. By the time I shut the door the wolf was already on my bike pulling at the shredded remains of my tent bag. I began to shake, and cuss.
POST-TRAUMATIC RELIEF
More cars began to pull up and honk at the wolf, but he would not leave my bike, as though he thought it was his kill. It took someone finally beaning him in the head with a rock to get him to leave. At this point Gabe and Gordo showed up, looking confused and concerned with a set of shattered tent poles in hand. While I know I got the names of the man and woman who saved me, for the life of me I can’t remember them now. I do remember the woman giving me a hug that felt like the greatest hug of my life.
A thief in Guelph in 2012 returned the stolen items with a $50 check to repair a broken door.
Still jacked on adrenaline, all I wanted to do was get out of that place, and get out fast. The folks in the RV were nice enough to watch our backs as we got a ways down the road before leaving, and gave one final wave as they passed by. I hope they are reading this so that they know how much I am in their debt and how grateful I am that they stopped to save me. Otherwise I honestly don’t think this story would have ended well.
CONCLUSION
We made it about ten miles down the road before the full adrenalin rush wore off, and then everything seemed to go into slow motion, and I just felt dizzy and tired. We pulled over to a roadside creek, where I stumbled down to splash water on my face and basically sat in the creek and lost my s%$t. The full implication of what had just happened to me sank in, and I just lost it for a good fifteen minutes.
We have spent a lot of time talking about the incident since, and the only conclusion we can come up with is that the wolf was old, sick, or injured, to be chasing something down on the highway. I would not doubt I am the first cyclist ever to have this happen to them on the Alaska-Canadian Highway. That being said I have tried to not let this experience change my positive feelings about being out here—but I do look over my shoulder more, and am a bit jumpy.
We’re in Whitehorse, Yukon now, having pulled off a century before 2:30. We’re planning on doing some bike work here and relaxing for the afternoon. That’s all for now.
EPILOGUE
As of press time, Mac and his buddies were still on the road. We are very happy Mac made it through his ordeal safely, and we are very thankful for his permission to share his story here. The charity the guys were raising money for was the Sandpoint Backpack Program, which provides weekend meals for kids in low-income homes. You can find them at:
http://foodbank83864.com/the-backpack-program.html.
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A CANADIAN JOKE
Q: What are Canada’s four seasons?
A: Winter, Still Winter, Almost Winter, and Construction
In 2012, Pizza Hut Canada produced its own perfume, Eau de Pizza Hut.