Today I woke up at 6:30, checked out and rode home. I was on the road by 7:30 and home by 11am.
It was in the 80s by 8am in the desert, but cooled down significantly when I got to the Cajon pass. Then I was pretty cold because I was only in my mesh jacket. It stayed that way all the way home, but I didn't want to pull over to put on a heavier jacket. I just rode a bit faster, between 80 and 85.
Traffic was going at a pretty good speed and there was a biker looking like he was trying to catch up to me, but then he just kept his distance. He was probably about 200 yards back and hung out there for a couple miles before he caught up and lit me up.
He asked for the usual stuff, license, registration, insurance, and I had it all with me. He asked "Were you watching your speedometer at all?" I just shrugged and said "Well, I guess I just let it get away from me, no excuses here". He took a good look at the bike and asked "Where are you coming from?" I liked that question, "Deadhorse Alaska".
He's still staring at my bike. It looked pretty ragged with my broken mirror, lots of bug juice all over the windscreen, and dirt in every crevice. "Is that a car tire??" I told him I use it on long trips, it's nice for traction and my motorcycle tire would not have lasted the ten thousand miles I just rode. He wasn't really looking at me, he was just looking at my bike, so I started telling him about the Dalton Highway, how the slippery stuff is, and how I fell in it. His next question was "How fast were you going?" ... I hesitated because I wasn't sure if he was truly interested or if he was trying to figure out if I was speeding then too.
We started talking BMWs and how nice the GS Adventure would be for a trip like that. He advised me of the new dealer Larry bought his RT from and that they have a lot of demos in stock because they are new. He gave me my stuff back and told me "OK, well you were doing over 80 the whole time I was pacing you." There was no "and" or "slow down" ... although I know he was implying slow down. I thanked him and rode on home at the 70 mph I usually rode the whole trip.
It was nice to get home and see Ashley and the furry welcoming committee. I'm looking forward to a vacation from my vacation before I get back to work and take care of the insurance claim.
This is the last post. I'll be adding pictures to the posts that don't have any over the next week or so.
Thanks for reading.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Jasper to Las Vegas (Day 22 & 23)
When i woke up, it was raining again. I was hoping for a little break so i could pack up, but it wasn't letting up. It takes about 1/2 hour to go from camp mode to riding, so I just put my rain gear on and did it. Steve was already in town, so Paul and I were ready at the same time and set out for town.
I ordered eggs at the cafe in town. There was no waitress, you just go up to the counter and order. She asked "Would you like an additional piece of toast with that?" (it comes with 1, as in a single piece of bread, not the two pieces on top of each other that every other diner in the world has) I also ordered a plain coffee, and she asks "Do you want to buy refill too?" So you get the idea, this place was a rip off.
A little bit down the road they were selling wifi access, twenty minutes for three dollars. Despite all the great deals around I was happy to get on the road and get out of there, even though it was raining.
About fifteen miles down the road we came to a toll booth. She was collecting fees if we were planning to stay another night, but we were not. She then advised us there was snow forecasted for the two passes we were heading for. We just kept going and decided we would worry about it when we saw the snow.
Not too far after the booth was Athabasca Falls. They were nice to look at, but we didn't stay long because of the rain. We began to head up a pass and the temperature started to drop. It got down to 39 degrees, which isn't that bad to ride in except for the fact that it was raining and my socks and shoes were soaked again. I really had enough of the rain at this point in the trip.
While trying to get past the rain, I made a wrong turn and didn't realize it till about 40 miles down the road. The GPS was taking me to the border, just not the route we had planned. It wasn't raining here and the border now was only 100 miles away. Since we were all going different ways once we got there, I decided to just keep going instead of back tracking. Once we got to the border, Steve was heading to Yellowstone, and Paul was going to take a slower pace back home than I.
It was sure nice to cross back into the U.S., and into Montana none the less. There were lots of big pines with meadows and lakes scattered all around. I also began to see a lot of deer everywhere. It didn't take long to learn gambling was legal in Montana as just about every little saloon and fuel stop seemed to have "and Casino" on the sign.
There were a couple small towns I road through which were pretty nice. The buildings looked very old fashioned, but they were all businesses that served the town, not just tourist shops.
I had been tossing around the idea of attempting an Iron Butt once I hit the U.S. For those reading that don't know, there's an association, the Iron Butt Association (IBA), who motorcyclists can register with for certification on distance vs time achievements. One of the more aggressive challenges is 1500 miles within 36 hours.
I was feeling pretty good and already about 10 hours into my day's ride when I decided to just go for it. It would be unofficial since I did not register with the IBA, but I was OK with it just being a personal challenge. Las Vegas was about 1500 miles so that became my next destination. First though I had to navigate through these Montana back-roads to get down to the 15.
As it got dark I became more paranoid about the deer I was seeing all over the place. The story of a rider who died from hitting a dear on his way to work kept running through my head. I finally saw a truck up ahead so I caught up to it and used his headlights. Keeping him about 3 seconds in front of me worked perfect for getting through the turns comfortably, and deer spotting. I tried to keep my tires in one of his tracks and his swerves alerted me to debris in the road. One big swerve was a freshly dead deer still in the middle of the lane.
The escort lasted a good 30-40 miles but then he turned a different direction. It wasn't long before I reached the I-90, and then the I-15. This isn't the 15 that we all know from home though. It changes from two to four lanes (total, not per side) with no street lights. On a large portion of it, the traffic flow was divided as if it were two separate roads. This actually worked well as drivers could keep their brights on most of the time while keeping an eye out for deer.
I had a nice view of a bright crescent moon and a planet to my left. At one point, the still Moon and stars in the periphery of my vision made it feel like I was sitting on a still bike and the road was moving like a big treadmill below me. I think the fear of hitting deer kept me from being very tired during the night. It was sure nice when light started to silhouette the mountains to the east though.
I was approaching Salt Lake Utah as I began to see a lot of morning commuters. I was feeling the fatigue pretty heavily at this point. When riding long distances, all the info I have available to me falls in the background to the fuel gauge. At any point, I can look at the fuel gauge and tell you about how much farther and how long it will probably take before I need to fuel up. I use the fuel breaks as a time to get new waters or snacks to keep me going, so the fuel gauge also lets me know how much longer I need to ride before break time.
The last couple hundred miles were very rough. I was tired and it got very hot as I entered Arizona and Nevada. The temperature reached 104 and there were parts where I was sitting in road construction. With no AC, it is hot, and when you get going, it's not much better. The best way I've heard it described is like you are riding in front of a huge hair dryer. It was funny going from 39 to 104 all on the same stretch.
I finally got to Vegas and checked in a room, but I wasn't tired. So, I went and donated a few bucks to the local regulars in the poker room and ate some awful food at the buffet. Then I was able to get a good night's sleep.
I ordered eggs at the cafe in town. There was no waitress, you just go up to the counter and order. She asked "Would you like an additional piece of toast with that?" (it comes with 1, as in a single piece of bread, not the two pieces on top of each other that every other diner in the world has) I also ordered a plain coffee, and she asks "Do you want to buy refill too?" So you get the idea, this place was a rip off.
A little bit down the road they were selling wifi access, twenty minutes for three dollars. Despite all the great deals around I was happy to get on the road and get out of there, even though it was raining.
About fifteen miles down the road we came to a toll booth. She was collecting fees if we were planning to stay another night, but we were not. She then advised us there was snow forecasted for the two passes we were heading for. We just kept going and decided we would worry about it when we saw the snow.
Not too far after the booth was Athabasca Falls. They were nice to look at, but we didn't stay long because of the rain. We began to head up a pass and the temperature started to drop. It got down to 39 degrees, which isn't that bad to ride in except for the fact that it was raining and my socks and shoes were soaked again. I really had enough of the rain at this point in the trip.
While trying to get past the rain, I made a wrong turn and didn't realize it till about 40 miles down the road. The GPS was taking me to the border, just not the route we had planned. It wasn't raining here and the border now was only 100 miles away. Since we were all going different ways once we got there, I decided to just keep going instead of back tracking. Once we got to the border, Steve was heading to Yellowstone, and Paul was going to take a slower pace back home than I.
It was sure nice to cross back into the U.S., and into Montana none the less. There were lots of big pines with meadows and lakes scattered all around. I also began to see a lot of deer everywhere. It didn't take long to learn gambling was legal in Montana as just about every little saloon and fuel stop seemed to have "and Casino" on the sign.
There were a couple small towns I road through which were pretty nice. The buildings looked very old fashioned, but they were all businesses that served the town, not just tourist shops.
I had been tossing around the idea of attempting an Iron Butt once I hit the U.S. For those reading that don't know, there's an association, the Iron Butt Association (IBA), who motorcyclists can register with for certification on distance vs time achievements. One of the more aggressive challenges is 1500 miles within 36 hours.
I was feeling pretty good and already about 10 hours into my day's ride when I decided to just go for it. It would be unofficial since I did not register with the IBA, but I was OK with it just being a personal challenge. Las Vegas was about 1500 miles so that became my next destination. First though I had to navigate through these Montana back-roads to get down to the 15.
As it got dark I became more paranoid about the deer I was seeing all over the place. The story of a rider who died from hitting a dear on his way to work kept running through my head. I finally saw a truck up ahead so I caught up to it and used his headlights. Keeping him about 3 seconds in front of me worked perfect for getting through the turns comfortably, and deer spotting. I tried to keep my tires in one of his tracks and his swerves alerted me to debris in the road. One big swerve was a freshly dead deer still in the middle of the lane.
The escort lasted a good 30-40 miles but then he turned a different direction. It wasn't long before I reached the I-90, and then the I-15. This isn't the 15 that we all know from home though. It changes from two to four lanes (total, not per side) with no street lights. On a large portion of it, the traffic flow was divided as if it were two separate roads. This actually worked well as drivers could keep their brights on most of the time while keeping an eye out for deer.
I had a nice view of a bright crescent moon and a planet to my left. At one point, the still Moon and stars in the periphery of my vision made it feel like I was sitting on a still bike and the road was moving like a big treadmill below me. I think the fear of hitting deer kept me from being very tired during the night. It was sure nice when light started to silhouette the mountains to the east though.
I was approaching Salt Lake Utah as I began to see a lot of morning commuters. I was feeling the fatigue pretty heavily at this point. When riding long distances, all the info I have available to me falls in the background to the fuel gauge. At any point, I can look at the fuel gauge and tell you about how much farther and how long it will probably take before I need to fuel up. I use the fuel breaks as a time to get new waters or snacks to keep me going, so the fuel gauge also lets me know how much longer I need to ride before break time.
The last couple hundred miles were very rough. I was tired and it got very hot as I entered Arizona and Nevada. The temperature reached 104 and there were parts where I was sitting in road construction. With no AC, it is hot, and when you get going, it's not much better. The best way I've heard it described is like you are riding in front of a huge hair dryer. It was funny going from 39 to 104 all on the same stretch.
I finally got to Vegas and checked in a room, but I wasn't tired. So, I went and donated a few bucks to the local regulars in the poker room and ate some awful food at the buffet. Then I was able to get a good night's sleep.
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Dawson Creek to Jasper National Park (Day 21)
Today we rode from Dawson Creen to Jasper National Park. We've only seen a little bit of the park so far, but there are some pretty awesome mountain and river views. We saw a herd of big horned sheep on the side of the road, but the fifty people trying to take pictures took away from the moment a bit. My only complaint is there is a lot of traffic in the park, even big rigs.
It's definitely getting dark again at night. I was really starting to get used to the long days. It's pretty nice although I'm not sure how much I'd like it in the winter when it's dark all the time.
My back aches and my sciatic nerve has been progressively getting worse today so I'm turning in early, around 6:30pm.
It's definitely getting dark again at night. I was really starting to get used to the long days. It's pretty nice although I'm not sure how much I'd like it in the winter when it's dark all the time.
My back aches and my sciatic nerve has been progressively getting worse today so I'm turning in early, around 6:30pm.
Saturday, July 3, 2010
History is on the Menu (Day 20)
This morning I got up entirely too early, so I packed up my bike and headed for the nearest diner. I ended up at Toad River Resort, an RV/Campground/Diner. It was so small I had to wait outside until one of the six tables became available.
I knew we were camping on Toad River, but I just assumed it was named after the toad. I didn't hear any toads, but I didn't put much thought into it until reading the menu. The cover gave a little history of the place, their hat collection (thousands of hats stapled to the ceiling), and the area. What interested me was the way they claimed the toad river got its name. It went something like this ...
In 1949, the US Army Corps of Engineers along with Canada was working on the Alaska Highway (Al Can). The highway wasn't the "super highway" it is now, but there were many parts that were difficult to pass, including toad river. The story says that once you got to the river, there was no bridge, so you would have to be towed across. They claim "that's our story and we're sticking to it ... for now anyway".
Paul and I caught up with Steve 120 miles down the road in Fort Nelson and then we just had 300 miles left to Dawson Creek, mile 0 of the Alaska Highway.
It was still raining into the afternoon, but we finally got a break about a hundred miles before Dawson Creek. The scenery slowly changed from lush forest and mountains to plains and farms. This doesn't seem like a place we could spend too long exploring, so we'll probably get a late start tomorrow for our next stop, Jasper. I'm staying in a Motel tonight for the convenience, the internet, the shower, and the laundry. It will be nice to have clean dry socks again.
Paul fell behind at some point in the last hundred miles. He usually catches back up (we're only traveling 70 mph), but we suspect he may have stopped for a shower or at the casino we passed to play some poker. We don't have any messages on our phones, but I'd expect him not to leave a message more than I would expect him to. Either way, he knows where our destination is and we'll probably see him in the morning.
Update: Yeap, Paul just found a place to do laundry, shower, and then played some poker. We'll be on the road around 10-11am again.
I knew we were camping on Toad River, but I just assumed it was named after the toad. I didn't hear any toads, but I didn't put much thought into it until reading the menu. The cover gave a little history of the place, their hat collection (thousands of hats stapled to the ceiling), and the area. What interested me was the way they claimed the toad river got its name. It went something like this ...
In 1949, the US Army Corps of Engineers along with Canada was working on the Alaska Highway (Al Can). The highway wasn't the "super highway" it is now, but there were many parts that were difficult to pass, including toad river. The story says that once you got to the river, there was no bridge, so you would have to be towed across. They claim "that's our story and we're sticking to it ... for now anyway".
Paul and I caught up with Steve 120 miles down the road in Fort Nelson and then we just had 300 miles left to Dawson Creek, mile 0 of the Alaska Highway.
It was still raining into the afternoon, but we finally got a break about a hundred miles before Dawson Creek. The scenery slowly changed from lush forest and mountains to plains and farms. This doesn't seem like a place we could spend too long exploring, so we'll probably get a late start tomorrow for our next stop, Jasper. I'm staying in a Motel tonight for the convenience, the internet, the shower, and the laundry. It will be nice to have clean dry socks again.
Paul fell behind at some point in the last hundred miles. He usually catches back up (we're only traveling 70 mph), but we suspect he may have stopped for a shower or at the casino we passed to play some poker. We don't have any messages on our phones, but I'd expect him not to leave a message more than I would expect him to. Either way, he knows where our destination is and we'll probably see him in the morning.
Update: Yeap, Paul just found a place to do laundry, shower, and then played some poker. We'll be on the road around 10-11am again.
Friday, July 2, 2010
Wringing Out My Sole (Day 19)
No, I'm not getting philisophical and mis-spelling the title, I'm literally wringing out the insoles of my boots.
We left Whitehorse after Paul got his brakepads installed and we were looking at Fort Nelson as a goal for today or tomorrow. That's about a 600 mile journey down the Alaskan Highway. It's a somewhat ambitious length for a clear day, but even more for a rainy day.
We had pretty decent weather with the usual scattered showers. About 20 miles after Liard Springs, the rain started and the sun beyond this cloud never showed. This was about 400 miles into the day.
Along the highway today we had a lot of animal sightings. Two grizzly bears, four moose, and at least fifty Buffalo, but probably more like 100. We also saw a lot of bigger camps along side the highway. I'm guessing they are hunting camps. Whatever they were cooking smelled pretty good from the highway.
The scenery after the springs started to get really nice again. Lots of lush forest, mountain, and river views around every turn. We hit some really nice canyons that reminded me of how I felt riding to Stewart. I wanted to ride the tight corners fast, but the views were just too good.
The road is tricky enough without the rain in this area. It's not that bad but when you see signs that read "gravel next 30 km", it will definitely put you on guard.
It's starting to get dark at night again. I don't think it's getting completely dark yet (or at least I haven't woke up when it was), but as we travel south, our flashlights may get used once again at the camp sites.
Fuel finally came down to $1.12/liter. It seems to be pretty consistent between stations now, even the smaller ones.
Steve wanted to make Fort Nelson tonight so he sped ahead while Paul and I kept the usual pace. Around 8pm we decided to look for camp and found a nice side road that led back to an open area near a the Toad River. It was tricky geting the bikes back here and I can only hope the rain doesn't make it a lot more difficult to get out. The last two moose we saw were just about one mile back down the road.
Once I got the tent up and all my gear inside, I spent about a half hour wiping down the water that leaked in while setting up and wringing out my socks, insoles, and rain pants. Ever since the slide, the rain gear's outer coating isn't doing its job and the water is seaping into the inner layers. I should be able to live with it till I get back home.
We left Whitehorse after Paul got his brakepads installed and we were looking at Fort Nelson as a goal for today or tomorrow. That's about a 600 mile journey down the Alaskan Highway. It's a somewhat ambitious length for a clear day, but even more for a rainy day.
We had pretty decent weather with the usual scattered showers. About 20 miles after Liard Springs, the rain started and the sun beyond this cloud never showed. This was about 400 miles into the day.
Along the highway today we had a lot of animal sightings. Two grizzly bears, four moose, and at least fifty Buffalo, but probably more like 100. We also saw a lot of bigger camps along side the highway. I'm guessing they are hunting camps. Whatever they were cooking smelled pretty good from the highway.
The scenery after the springs started to get really nice again. Lots of lush forest, mountain, and river views around every turn. We hit some really nice canyons that reminded me of how I felt riding to Stewart. I wanted to ride the tight corners fast, but the views were just too good.
The road is tricky enough without the rain in this area. It's not that bad but when you see signs that read "gravel next 30 km", it will definitely put you on guard.
It's starting to get dark at night again. I don't think it's getting completely dark yet (or at least I haven't woke up when it was), but as we travel south, our flashlights may get used once again at the camp sites.
Fuel finally came down to $1.12/liter. It seems to be pretty consistent between stations now, even the smaller ones.
Steve wanted to make Fort Nelson tonight so he sped ahead while Paul and I kept the usual pace. Around 8pm we decided to look for camp and found a nice side road that led back to an open area near a the Toad River. It was tricky geting the bikes back here and I can only hope the rain doesn't make it a lot more difficult to get out. The last two moose we saw were just about one mile back down the road.
Once I got the tent up and all my gear inside, I spent about a half hour wiping down the water that leaked in while setting up and wringing out my socks, insoles, and rain pants. Ever since the slide, the rain gear's outer coating isn't doing its job and the water is seaping into the inner layers. I should be able to live with it till I get back home.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Canada Day (Day 18)
Diamnond Tooth Girdy's, the local casino and floor show in Dawson, is the night time entertainment feature of the city. For gambling there's slots, black jack, roulette, and Texas Hold'em.
Every couple hours the floor show starts with the Madam of the parlour, Diamond Tooth Girdy, singing and featuring her dancing girls. There's a bit of audience participation, but for me the real fun was at the poker table.
We left around 11pm and took the ferry back across the Yukon to setup camp. The ferry is operated by the city 24 hours a day.
Even at 11:30pm, the campground was still noisy in some places, but it was big enough to find a quiet spot.
The next morning I packed up my bike and took the ferry back into Dawson where I explored all the buzz around the day's festivities. The ferry workers were giving out Canadian flags and this one in particular thought it would be really cool if I put one on my bike. I wasn't allowed to get off my bike on the ferry, so I just stuck it in my cup. It was paper and would probably tear if I put it in the wind anyway.
In the city, there was a gold mining competition area that was getting setup and small wooden barricades, which you could easily get around, blocking off the parade route. Front street got busier and busier as locals and tourists gathered to stake their claim on the best spot to view the parade.
Both bikes needed fuel, so we stopped at the only gas station in Dawson City, a Shell station. Bronze (87 octane) was $1.39/liter and Gold (89 octane) was $1.46/liter. That's over $5/gallon!
We decided to stick around and parked the bikes where we could easily get out of the city in case it was going to drag on. That wasn't really a concern though because the parade was pretty small.
First out were a bunch of mounties marching in front of a police car. The sirens were blarring as they passed by. Next was a very large group of kids riding their bikes and tricycles down the parade route. The rest of parade featured some old fashioned cars, fire trucks with Girdy's girls, and the rest of the DAwsone fire equipment. It was over pretty quick.
The agenda for today was to meet up with Steve near Whitehorse, a 330 mile trip. We were to meet at some campground which has hot springs at the end of the day. This section of road was pretty good asphalt, but would break off into gravel sections usually no bigger than 1/4 mile. Some of the gravel was thick though which slowed us down. We also hit areas of heavy rain. I think the combination made the 330 miles feel like a bit more by the time we were done.
We rode by a place called Five Finger Rapids and it looked pretty spectacular. I didn't have my camera ready so I missed the shot. After that was Fox Lake, which also looked like a nice recreation area.
The hot springs campground turned out to be a good find although the prices are a little high for tent camping. ($16 + $6.50 for each additional tent) Steve was already there and had a spot paid for. I setup on the same site, but Paul left to go find some free camping somewhere else. There's two things Paul likes in a camp site, 1) Free, 2) seclusion, both of which this place was not. I like those too, but will not always go out of my way to find it when only staying one night.
I needed a shower badly, so I paid $8.40 to go in the hot springs. They require you to shower before you go in so it worked out great.
After that Steve and I went to the restaurant and caught up on the events of the past few days. He took a side trip down to Skagway, which apparently has a lot of history connected with Dawson as they are connected by water ways and the Yukon River.
Later when I got back to camp, a couple motorcycles pulled into the park and pulled into a site next to us. One was a 1150 GS and the other was a Triumph Tiger that was setup like no other I've seen, except for one in Coldfoot that was owned by the guy I met from Lake Elsinore. Keep in mind we're over 700 miles away from the last place I saw this guy and this campground is about 7 miles off the main road. These two guys are old high school buddies, but one lives in Washington now.
I re-introduced myself with a mention of Coldfoot and they quickly remembered "Oh the Goldwing ... you're famous now". Apparently they thought it was pretty funny in Coldfoot, when after they asked me how I picked my bike up off the Dalton mud, I replied "Oh, I've picked that thing up plenty of times". It's true, just not under the same circumstances. Steve and I exchanged info with them so we can go riding a little closer to home.
Tomorrow we're stopping by the Honda shop in Whitehorse so Paul can hopefully get new brake pads. He is grinding metal to metal now and even dragging his feet to help stop the bike at slow speeds. I started calling him Fred Flinstone.
We'll ride the rest of the Alaskan Highway into Dawson Creek (different than Dawson City), and then south into Jasper.
Every couple hours the floor show starts with the Madam of the parlour, Diamond Tooth Girdy, singing and featuring her dancing girls. There's a bit of audience participation, but for me the real fun was at the poker table.
We left around 11pm and took the ferry back across the Yukon to setup camp. The ferry is operated by the city 24 hours a day.
Even at 11:30pm, the campground was still noisy in some places, but it was big enough to find a quiet spot.
The next morning I packed up my bike and took the ferry back into Dawson where I explored all the buzz around the day's festivities. The ferry workers were giving out Canadian flags and this one in particular thought it would be really cool if I put one on my bike. I wasn't allowed to get off my bike on the ferry, so I just stuck it in my cup. It was paper and would probably tear if I put it in the wind anyway.
In the city, there was a gold mining competition area that was getting setup and small wooden barricades, which you could easily get around, blocking off the parade route. Front street got busier and busier as locals and tourists gathered to stake their claim on the best spot to view the parade.
Both bikes needed fuel, so we stopped at the only gas station in Dawson City, a Shell station. Bronze (87 octane) was $1.39/liter and Gold (89 octane) was $1.46/liter. That's over $5/gallon!
We decided to stick around and parked the bikes where we could easily get out of the city in case it was going to drag on. That wasn't really a concern though because the parade was pretty small.
First out were a bunch of mounties marching in front of a police car. The sirens were blarring as they passed by. Next was a very large group of kids riding their bikes and tricycles down the parade route. The rest of parade featured some old fashioned cars, fire trucks with Girdy's girls, and the rest of the DAwsone fire equipment. It was over pretty quick.
The agenda for today was to meet up with Steve near Whitehorse, a 330 mile trip. We were to meet at some campground which has hot springs at the end of the day. This section of road was pretty good asphalt, but would break off into gravel sections usually no bigger than 1/4 mile. Some of the gravel was thick though which slowed us down. We also hit areas of heavy rain. I think the combination made the 330 miles feel like a bit more by the time we were done.
We rode by a place called Five Finger Rapids and it looked pretty spectacular. I didn't have my camera ready so I missed the shot. After that was Fox Lake, which also looked like a nice recreation area.
The hot springs campground turned out to be a good find although the prices are a little high for tent camping. ($16 + $6.50 for each additional tent) Steve was already there and had a spot paid for. I setup on the same site, but Paul left to go find some free camping somewhere else. There's two things Paul likes in a camp site, 1) Free, 2) seclusion, both of which this place was not. I like those too, but will not always go out of my way to find it when only staying one night.
I needed a shower badly, so I paid $8.40 to go in the hot springs. They require you to shower before you go in so it worked out great.
After that Steve and I went to the restaurant and caught up on the events of the past few days. He took a side trip down to Skagway, which apparently has a lot of history connected with Dawson as they are connected by water ways and the Yukon River.
Later when I got back to camp, a couple motorcycles pulled into the park and pulled into a site next to us. One was a 1150 GS and the other was a Triumph Tiger that was setup like no other I've seen, except for one in Coldfoot that was owned by the guy I met from Lake Elsinore. Keep in mind we're over 700 miles away from the last place I saw this guy and this campground is about 7 miles off the main road. These two guys are old high school buddies, but one lives in Washington now.
I re-introduced myself with a mention of Coldfoot and they quickly remembered "Oh the Goldwing ... you're famous now". Apparently they thought it was pretty funny in Coldfoot, when after they asked me how I picked my bike up off the Dalton mud, I replied "Oh, I've picked that thing up plenty of times". It's true, just not under the same circumstances. Steve and I exchanged info with them so we can go riding a little closer to home.
Tomorrow we're stopping by the Honda shop in Whitehorse so Paul can hopefully get new brake pads. He is grinding metal to metal now and even dragging his feet to help stop the bike at slow speeds. I started calling him Fred Flinstone.
We'll ride the rest of the Alaskan Highway into Dawson Creek (different than Dawson City), and then south into Jasper.
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