On Top of the World (Day 17)

Today we headed east of Chicken AK onto a section of road called "Top of the World Highway."  We were already on the dirt section of road, and it continued on until the border crossing.

It rained a bit last night making the road a bit snotty, but nothing compared to the Dalton Hwy.  We were able to travel 25 to 50 mph.  There was a point I thought our luck ran out when heavy fog set in causing the views to disapear, but it turned out the road was just taking us in and out of the cloud base.

It was a little slow at times, but we finally got to the Yukon River, where we took a free ferry across to Dawson City.  Dawson is a time warp to the gold rush days.  The place has a very authentic old time feel to it, dirt roads and all.  Everything is pretty expensive here too.

We're going to stay somewhere around here and explore the town a little more tonight. Then we're heading to Whitehorse tomorrow to meet up with Steve tomorrow.

Note that if you are trying to contact me, my mobile phone will be off until we get back to the states.

Alaskan Chicken (Day 16)

Paul and I packed up and had some breakfast at the Hillside truckstop, about 60 miles south of the Dalton Highway near where we camped.

We ran across a rider, Vin, the night before at this truckstop while topping off the tank.  Vin is going to ride the Dalton Highway on a Sym Symba.  It's a moped that has a one gallon tank and gets 100 mpg.  He has two other one gallon containers with him as well as a couple spare tires.  The tread pattern on the tires are at least decent for dirt.  Since the forecast was calling for rain over the next couple days, he said he would only attempt to go as far as the Arctic Circle.  Good Luck!

First thing on the agenda was to wash all the mud off my bike. Once that was done, we were headed for Dawson City, Yukon Territory but planned to camp somewhere along the way.

It was raining when we were leaving the car wash so we put on the rain gear.  We've been warned of a 75 mile stretch of road that could get ugly if it is wet, but after the Dalton experience, we figured we would just figure out what to do when we got there.

Luckily, we rode past the rain and on to sunny skies with big puffy clouds. It wasn't a long ride because of all the errands in the morning and the marathon ride yesterday.

Chicken Alaska is a lot more intersting than I thought it was going to be.  The first thing I saw was a "Chicken Community" sign, and I wasn't sure if there was going to be much else, so I got a picture.  Then, we rode up on the Chicken Post Office, again a picture not knowing if there was going to be anything else.

Then around the corner was a bunch of old fashion buildings... with 2 tour busses and a lot of people all over the place standing in the middle of the road like sheep that had no clue I was trying to get through them to park.

Turns out these people had reason to be in a daze.  Their first tour bus went off the road in Eagle AK.  They got transferred to another bus, which was the one out front here, and it was stuck in a hole.  They finally teathered one bus to the other, and the front tour bus, filled with its passengers, towed the other bus out of the hole.  The crowed was pleased and the town emptied quickly.  This must have been a big day for Chicken.

In the little town there's a lot of mining equipment on display, a small row of shops (saloon, restaurant, gift store), an RV/camping park with a big general store with lots of Chicken AK apparel, and a do it yourself gold panning area.

Once we rolled around town a couple times to make sure we didn't miss anything, Paul wanted to go back about 3 miles to another camping spot by the river we passed and I decided to go check out a campground ont he map about 15 miles up the road.  We'll meet up in the morning.

Since Steve took an alternate route, he's ahead of us now.  He is going to explore Haynes and another city I can't think of right now.  After Paul and I are done checking out Dawson City (did I mention that was the next stop?), we will all meetup in Whitehorse to continue the trip south east through Yukon, B.C. and Alberta.

A Life of its Own (Day 15)

The Dalton Highway seems to have a life of its own. From one hour to the next, the same section of highway can be completely different.  It could go from large golfball size gravel to pea size gravel, and then to dispersed gravel with a solid layer of dirt exposed underneith.  There were many sections a mile or more long where crews were working on it.

Today the road was a completely different road than it was just yesterday and the day before.  The same stretch of road that took me nine hours to travel yesterday, took me only five hours today.  Basically when it dries out, it becomes the consistency of dried clay.  Areas where I was riding 15-20 mph yesterday were dried out and were ridable at 50-65 mph today.

I woke up especially early to catch the tour bus out to the arctic ocean. Because of security around the oil fields, this is the only way tourists can go to the sea. Before the tour they make you watch a short video featuring the history of Prudhoe Bay, and all the innovations that have been made over the years in oil exploration.  After that, a guy with a badge checks your ID and lets you on the bus.

Deadhorse is a pretty big place, or at least a lot bigger than I thought.  There are rows and rows of companies which are each a cog in the oil business up here.  Some buildings are well houses themselves.

Workers generally work 12 hour days, 2 weeks on and 2 weeks off. They are flown in and housed/fed for free from Fairbanks and Anchorage. The guide was saying even housekeepers up here start at $55k/yr.

On the bus I saw an arctic fox stalking something in the oil fields.  I also saw a couple arctic swans and musk oxen.

They let us off at the ocean and warned us of the Pete moss on the ocean floor, and of "accidental plunges" that have happened in recent weeks.

This is as far as I'd be going north... time to start thinking about the ride back.

As I started out, first thing I noticed as all the deep gravel was dispearsed from the trucks driving over it.  The next thing I noticed is that I was able to pass a couple dual sport riders.  This ride was going to go much faster than I thought (still five hours to Coldfoot).

Once I got to Coldfoot, I sat down with some other riders. They asked what I rode, and when I told them one guy says "That's the guy I was telling you about from Deadhorse."  Then another guy mentions someone riding a Yellow Goldwing with a spare front tire in the back seat. (Paul)  They didn't know we knew each other.  It's funny how stories travel up and down the Dalton through the riders.

One funny topic at lunch was a guy we all spotted at one point or another who is making the trek on a Vespa.  He's got it loaded up and has 4 small spare tires, 2 on the front, and 2 on the back.  I hear he's from Italy and had his Vespa shipped to New York.  He was telling one guy it does 47 MPH, but that is the extent of his story.

I felt pretty good after a burger, so I just got back on the bike and headed south.  There was an option to camp on the Yukon river at 120 miles, or keep going the 250 to the next fuel stop.

Before I left, a GS 1200 rider from the lunch table was getting ready to go too.  I think he thought I was going to follow him out, and he warned me "just take it easy ... I'm going to be going fast".  I didn't think much of it since he was on a bike made for this stuff and I was not.

We actually ended up riding the rest of the Dalton together.  In the dirt he would walk away from me in the corners or where it was wet, I would catch up on the straights.  On the pavement, I held my own, but I could not shake him when I took the lead. Now I really need to test ride one of these bikes!  It had all the storage of the wing, and handled well on dirt and pavement.  It's also about 350 pounds lighter.

At the end of the Dalton we congratulated each other and took photos by the sign. Getting back to the bottom of the Highway felt more of a personal accomplishment than just getting to Deadhorse.

I took the lead through the rest of the twisties and then pulled into the fuel station.  It was around 9pm but I was ready to ride further since I thought Paul and Steve were so far ahead of me.  That's when Paul pulled into the gas station.  He was on his way back to his camp site, taking his time because he thought I was going to take one more day to get down the Dalton.  I just went back to his camp and setup my tent.

Tomorrow we'll head out toward Dawson, which is 950 miles from here. There's a 75 mile stretch of dirt, but from what we've heard, it should be a breeze if it is dry.  If it is like the condition of the Dalton today, it definitely won't be that difficult.  I believe that's the last long stretch of dirt road for this trip.

Coldfoot to Deadhorse (Day 14)

This section of road was about the same level of difficulty as yesterday.  There were a few sections where workers were laying down the calcium followed by a water truck to finish it off.  Instant slime, but I knew how to handle it this time.  I just rode slow and in the tracks, if there were any.

This whole highway has been the most challenging road I've been on.  It's a test of skill, endurance, wits, and determination.  Every other bike (except Paul) I've seen on the Dalton is a dual sport, and while it would still be a challenge on one of those bikes, it wouldn't last as long.

Today it took me about 9 hours to get 250 miles.  From mud to light gravel, to deep gravel, to thick gravel, and occasionally the section of paved road where I still had to drive slow because of the monster potholes that would easily eat the tire of a 900 pound bike with 300+lbs of rider and gear.

On the way I saw 3 Musk Oxe, a Mother Moose and her calf, many of these rodents which I think are Musk Rats, and hundreds of Caribou.  The scenery slowly changed from mountainous to flat.

I also saw Paul.  He left for Deadhorse a couple days ago while I was staying in Fairbanks.  We knew we would cross paths on this route, but didn't know where.  It turned out to be almost exactly between Coldfoot and Deadhorse.  He warned me of some big gravel up ahead and continued down to Coldfoot.

The temperature dropped to about 40 degrees and I started seeing ice in the bodies of water.  I was pretty tired by the time I reached Deadhorse and ran out of fuel just as I reached town.  I had 2x 1 liter bottles of fuel on the bike, so I used one to get me to the fuel station.

This town is very industrial and supports a few thousand workers in the oil industry.  They don't all live her permanently, but stay in special housing.  There are three hotels which appear to be buildings that were later subdivided inside into rooms.  Here at the one I'm staying in there's buffet area.  They charge $20 for dinner and $15 for breakfast, but it seems to be on the honor system.  No one verified if I purchased a meal with my room.

Tomorrow morning I'm going to take a sea tour in the Arctic.  They require a driver's license and run some sort of light background check for security purposes surrounding the oil fields.  The boats primary purpose is to transport oil crews and supplies from what I understand.

After the tour, it's back down to Coldfoot.  I'll probably stay at the same Marion Creek campground again.

The Dalton Slideway (Day "13", ... coincidence?)

"Slicker than snot", that's just one of many descriptions I've heard of the Dalton Highway when it is wet. I headed out for the Dalton Highway around noon with a goal of Coldfoot, one of the truck stop towns featured on Ice Road Truckers. The forcast called for scattered showers and more rain tomorrow.  I was thinking I'd just not go if it was raining, but it ended up just being something that I had to see for myself.

Highway 2 from Fairbanks to the Dalton was a really nice piece of road to ride. There were lots of tight sweepers with views you would ever only see here. That road dead ends into the Dalton Highway, and soon after I turned right to head north, it became dirt.

It really wasn't that bad.  I was able to ride between 40 and 50 comfortably for the first 45 minutes or so.  Every once in a while it would switch to asphault, but then quickly back to dirt.  It even started to rain a bit.  I kept dragging my foot on the ground to check the traction, and it felt fine.  What people warn about is the calcium they lay down on the road to keep the dust down.  That's what makes the road turn into slime when it gets wet.

This wet dirt road felt no different than any other, so I began to think people were just exagerating. The one thing I kept thinking though is that Paul left a message saying it was tough to get to Coldfoot. I don't think I've ever heard Paul refer to any road as tough.  This guy rides Kilian Trail alone at night. (a barely 2 lane potted mix of dirt and asphault unlit road out near the Ortega)  I just kept expecting for it to get harder, but I couldn't see how.

I was on a section of paved road, which turned into dirt up ahead.  It looked wet, but not any different than the other sections of damp dirt I rode on so far.  Shortly after hitting the dirt the bike started to drift right.  I leaned opposite and it changed direction, and I was able to, but it was just sliding like I was riding on butter.  Every time the bike went one way, it would go that way too far so I would change direction to keep it on the road.

After about four direction changes, I swirved it to the right and I'm guessing traction caught because I high sided.  I knew I was going down after the first couple swirves so it was just a matter of how gentle I could come in for the landing.  The Goldwing has a lot of bike that sticks out further than the rider, and I decided to just use that space.  When it high sided, I tucked in and held the handlebars firmly.  I felt my head bounce off the ground, but the helmet did it's job and it didn't even phase me.

The weight I had on the handlebars caused the left mirror and saddlebag to grind against the road. I think if I was not on them, the bike would have come to a stop just sliding on the engine guards. I would have absorbed more of the road though and risked the bike catching up to me since I was in front of it.

It all happened really slow, not just because things slow down in your head when accidents happen, but because I was sliding around on the mud.  Have you ever seen a car slide on ice?  It felt the same way.

What's cool is that my frog troggs (rain gear I had on top of everything else) didn't even rip.  I guess the same mud that caused the problem was the same thing that prevented more injury or bike/gear damage. I had my armored jacket on under the Troggs, and the Gerbings heated vest under that. The bike's mirror is smashed up, the clutch lever is bent, the saddle bag is scratched, and I got some weird thing going on with the passenger peg jammed up under the engine guard, but other than that everything seems fine.  It rides strong and in a straight line still.  I can't report it to the insurance agency yet because I have no signal for a couple days.

I got up and was looking at the mud tracks and my bike trying to process it all when a truck camper was approaching.  It must have  been an aweful sight to someone who hasn't seen a Goldwing on its side before.  I picked the bike up just as they stopped and they got out with horrified looks on their faces.  I started the bike to make sure it would go before I told them thanks for stopping, I'll be fine.

I began to continue down the road, but even at the slowest speed I could go, my front tire was just sledding through the mud and the rear was spinning more than it was pushing.  I ended up turning the bike around and getting it to the pavement where I was trying to figure out if I should just camp here till it dries out or head back.  After a walk down a pipeline pump road, I got back on the bike to find a better camping spot.  I saw two dual sport bikers riding by about to hit the mud.  I went around the corner to see if they made it through and they were gone.

An oversize escort truck was heading my way at the same time.  She was way ahead of the truck she was escorting so I flagged her down to ask how far the road was like this.  She told me this was the worst section and it only goes another mile or two.  She said just stay in the tracks where the water has been pushed out, so knowing that it was only a section like this, I just pushed on, and sure enough after fighting the mud, the texture changed back to the gravel/dirt that I could get traction on.

If I wouldn't have crashed, this post would have been more about how amazing Alaska is.  There were corners I came around that exposed views that just gave this euphoric feeling.  It's nothing I can describe and the pictures don't even do it justice.

About an hour later I arrived in the Arctic Circle. The score was now tied, Dalton Hwy 1, Mike 1, as this was the main reason for traveling this road.  Had I known the scenery was going to be so great, that would have been another.  For some reason, people have told me that the sights would be boring along this route, but I would strongly argue otherwise.  The only other sights I've seen on this trip that compare are those on the 37a to Stewart/Hyder.

Coldfoot was just another sixty miles from the Arctic Circle. The only sign I saw was a visitor's center, which is where I went first.  I needed to know for sure where the gas station was because my fuel light had come on 40 miles ago. I think maybe I lost some fuel when my bike was on its side because I thought I would have plenty at that point.

The visitor's center had displays of local wildlife and a lot of information on the Arctic Circle in general. They're open till 10pm daily and the rangers helped me out with the gas info and on where to camp.

Coldfoot was across the way from the Visitor's center.  There's not a whole lot there.  It's just a truck stop, a little motel, and an area to camp.  I filled up my tank, and 2x 1 liter bottles I had with me for the next leg up to Deadhorse.  I don't think I will need them but that stretch is 245 miles with no fuel in between.

The campground the ranger recommended was just five miles up the road. It sits along a creek, has no flush toilets and water you turn a crank to get out of the well. I went to the campground hosts for change and they invited me into the RV so the mosquitos don't get in.  We ended up talking for a while and they were telling me about all the wildlife up in Prudhoe bay right now.  Apparently there are musk oxe and caribou all around.  They also confirmed the rest of the road doesn't have a lot of mud, which is what I was worried about.

Fairbanks (Day 12)

Fairbanks is a bigger city than most here in Alaska, but it still maintains a smaller town feel.  That's probably why I like it a lot more than Anchorage.

There's maybe a 10 square block 'downtown' area that has a lot of character.  I just went to the typical tourist places like the city museum, the new visitor's center, and Pioneer Park.

It gets a lot warmer up here than it was down in Anchorage.  I believe it got into the 80s.  I put on a long sleeve shirt thinking it would be cooler since we were farther north, but I was very wrong.

Paul left a message from Coldfoot informing me that he was there and it was some tough riding.  He called from a 907 number so I'm guessing there is no mobile coverage up there.  I called up to Prudhoe Bay hotel and they said it was drizzling there.  I plan to start heading for the arctic circle (A little ways before Coldfoot) and if all is well I'll continue on to Deadhorse.

The Great One (Day 11)

Today we traveled from Willow to Fairbanks, which runs through the Denali National Forest.

Denali is the tallest peak in North America. The name means "The Great One" in Athabaskan. When McKinley was running for office, a local prospector pushed for the mountain to be named after him because he was a strong proponent in The Gold Standard.  The name was denied because of law that said the mountain could not be named for anyone who is living.  So, when President McKinley died, the mountain was officially named after him.

Since then, Alaska has formally requested from congress that the name be changed back to the native name of "Denali".  The problem now is that there are other laws which state that these requests will not be considered if there is pending legislation on the matter, and there is a congressman from the same state McKinley is from who purposely keep pending legislation to avoid any name change.

The mountain itself is pretty impressive and there are a few pull-offs outside of the park on the way where you can get a pretty good view. On this day there were clouds at the top of the mountain, which is common because of the micro-climate of the mountain.

The national park itself wasn't that different than the other parts of alaska we were seeing.  I think one of the displays in the visitor's center said it best, "Denali's borders only exist on maps".  If you want to drive (or ride) through the park, you can only go 15 miles in before you must turn around.  If you want to commit to a 6+ hour bus tour, you can go in further.  My national park pass covered me + 4 others so we all just opted to go for a ride up to the 15 mile mark.  As far as wildlife, we saw caribou and seagulls.  I think the sheer mass of Alaska's wilderness downplays the wilderness of the park itself, or rather the park stands for a lot more than its borders, which we have been enjoying for many days now.

After about an hour and a half, we were back on Parks Highway heading north to Fairbanks.  About 20 miles north of Denali National park, I saw my first fox.  He sprinted along the right side of the highway and stopped fast to look back at something.

Before we got to Denali, we passed by "Wall * Mikes", which was a sight to see. We turned around and pulled in his parking lot.  This place was a cross between a junk yard and a Wallmart.  He had random things like license plates, animal pelts, new hardware, new spark plugs, and all the "junk" looked as though it was very thoughtfully placed.

You didn't have to talk to the guy to know get a sense of his world view as Glenn Beck was blaring on the TV in the background, Sara Palin signs and newspapers were featured all over, Illegal Alien and Atheist jabs on merchandise here and there, etc.  I've never seen a place like this and I don't think I ever will again unless I travel back up that road.  I did end up picking up a couple Alaska plates since there's not many souvenirs I can pack in the bike easily.

Just before Wall Mikes was a little town called Trapper's Creek.  We turned left off the road to head for a little roadhouse in Petersville which we were told was about 20 miles in.  The hunters were out in force around this area. It was pretty common to see trucks with empty trailers where they took off on their ATVs. There were also base camps where they would setup their RVs/Campers.  We got to the Roadhouse and were greeted by some barking dogs.  The place ended up being closed during the week, so we just ate a quick snack and turned around.

We arrived in Fairbanks around 8pm and had a drink at a cool looking and very run down bar about where my GPS pointed as downtown.  It was the usual selection of draft brew for here in Alaska, coors, bud, or Alaskan Amber.  This stop is going to be a couple days of hotel stay, so we thumbed through the milepost book and called the advertisers to find the beset value.  I didn't want to stay in a stinky motel with cigarette holes in the sheets like I did in Bellingham and fortunately I came across a great price at the Alpine Lodge.

Fairbanks has a much better feel than Anchorage.  There's still a lot of businesses, but nowhere near as much traffic. Everything is much more spread out.  There are rivers that run through town and it looks to be a very inviting place to explore.