Day 25 & 26, We're Back...

Valiant Knights and their Trusty Steeds

Alan and Tom, Wedensday afternoon in Atlanta, back from the Quest

Game Stats:

Day 26
Travel: Columbia, Missouri to Nashville, TN
Distance: 465 miles

Day 27
Travel: Nashville, TN to The ATL
Distance: 230 miles

More miles and more miles; at present, the story of our lives. Alan, being the considerate guy he is, and worried about my reintroduction to civilization, has kindly arranged for a big-time traffic jam in St. Louis. It is incredibly painful watching an entire interstate highway neck down to one lane as we cross the Mississippi. No fun when in a making-miles mindset. Give me the Yukon.

A troubling transformation is taking place; our motorcycles are disintegrating bit by bit: chains stretching into the plastic zone, bashplate bolts coming loose and worst of all, Alan’s bike won’t crank. I thought I had gotten out of the business of parking lot jump starts, but no - a man’s got to do…

So end of day Tuesday finds us in Nashville were we turn in the satellite phone and spent the night at the home of Mr. Denny Carr and his wife, Ginger, the ultra-mom, and Alan’s daughter. Not only do we get a great meal and a soft bed but the maintenance garage is open all night and is well stocked with tools. A very timely occurrence as both bikes require tending to. Hey, I know Nashville close to home but pushing a motorcycle 250 miles is still over my ability.

Repairs require a late departure Wednesday morning. Alan procures a new battery (root cause failure analysis: dry battery w/bad cell). Incredibly we found one at Wal-Mart for $35 – so cheap that I buy two. Back to Carr’s Service Station where we put the bikes back together. Hey, no extra bolts – that’s a good sign.

A quick 200 miles finds Alan and me shaking hands and heads. “Have we really been gone a month?” In odd way I feel like we just left; but when measured by events I feel we’ve been away a year. We are agreed: a great trip, a great time and a surprise bonus: we still like each other. A truly epic, profound and blessed odyssey.

What’s next?

• For me it’s a quick turnaround for family vacation. I plan to finish my trip toughs via this log and organize the photos from the sunny sands of the Gulf
• For Alan, its time to prep for his missionary trip to Germany
• Together we plan to have our families get together ASAP for a celebration meal, a monster slide show and many of tall tales (which I am formulating even as we speak).
• Stay tuned for epilogue installments – I’ve got lots of ideas from been stuck inside that helmet all day.

Sir Tom returns to the Round Table

Day 24 & 25, North to South & West to East

Game Stats:

Day 24
Travel: Gillette, to Sioux Falls, SD
Distance: 486 miles

Day 25
Travel: Sioux Falls, South Dakota to Columbia, Missouri
Distance: 498 miles

Very little to report from this end. We have our game faces on and are intent on making miles. Our efforts appear to be bearing fruit; at present Alan’s 12-factor travel algorithm and calculation project’s us arriving home a day early. Good for us, bad for the family; an extra day of Dad at home.

A heads up Roswell: better get those kids and dogs outta' my bed – over.

Sunday was remarkable only for our stop in Sturgis, South Dakota. For you non-bikers, Sturgis is the site of an annual Harley Davidson rally and biker-bacchanal. It’s odd to me to see a town that appears to be a wholly owned subsidiary of a corporation, i.e. Harley Davidson, Inc. The town is small, and the rally is not until August, yet everything in town is geared toward support of this event. I can only guess at the economic impact to the town but it must be huge because most businesses appear to be shuttered during the year…just waiting for the 10 day party.

Sturgis makes Bike Week in Daytona look like a Sunday school picnic by comparison. In that same vein, and as a card carrying Harley guy, I have to confess to my continued wonderment at the behavior of the Harley community at large. The wild/crazy parties don’t faze me nor do the outlaw biker types – at least they’re genuine. But if I see anymore half-fat old white guys dressing up in biker gear to playing weekend tough guy, I think I’ll…spit.

Additionally, and as Alan never tires of pointing out, many of these pseudo-bikers don’t even ride to the rallies; they drive there pulling the bike in a trailer - new definition: trailer trash. That said we have seen plenty of Harley riders out here that are putting in the serious saddle time and seem genuine in every way. I guess that there is something in the Harley culture that brings out the flakes.

We know we are getting close, we saw our fist Waffle House today – we’re practically in the neighborhood. Tomorrow – Nashville, TN.

Day 23, …and One for the Bikers

Stats:
Travel: Red Lodge, MT to Gillette, WY
Distance: 370 miles
Wildlife Watch: Marmots, Prong-horn Antelope

What a day: clear, cool, crisp, bright and brilliant. To paraphrase my #1 son, it was “most bodacious”. Perfect riding weather matched with perfect roads. I’ve been riding almost 30 years and this was hands down the best riding I’ve ever experienced: scenery, road design, road condition – all perfect 10s.

In reflection I note this trek is made up of many facets, i.e. sight-seeing, endurance, exotic places, etc. But in my mind the real purpose of this trip is to ride the motorcycle; it truly is like no other form of transportation. You “feel” the road, smell the spruce, detect the little changes in temperature as you change elevation; the sensory inputs are in overdrive. And of course there is the power and speed of zipping through curves and charging up hills – not to mention the thrill of near death encounters with loose gravel. And today was the day when this portion, the biker part, was at its best.

The main event was first on the menu: Beartooth Pass – An awesome climb through the pass, from Montana to Wyoming, a carving, white knuckle ride up the pass, and then long wide sweepers on the way down. Then we went east on the Chief Joseph Scenic Hwy leading into Cody, WY. These are all roads Alan has ridden before and are among his favorites. However, we next went into uncharted territory because we need to work our way onto an interstate for getting home. We headed south through Big Horn National Park leading to Buffalo, WY, and I-90. This was an unexpected surprise; initially the road runs through a valley of carved stone that towers over the valley – then we took on elevation and climbed to the top of the pass, froze, and then a 9% grade roller coaster back to the prairie floor and the town Buffalo. We were hoping to get to South Dakota but called it quits after 60 miles and are now holed up in Gillette, WY.
Tomorrow: we pin our ears back and hit the super-slab – making miles is the order of the day and we plan to put South Dakota behind us.

Days 21 & 22, Back in the USA

Game Stats:

Day 21
Travel: Jasper, Alberta to Shelby, MT
Distance: 501 miles

Day 22
Travel: Shelby, MT to Great Falls, MT to Red Lodge, MT
Distance: 350 miles
Event: Pit stop at Sport City Cyclery in Great Falls for new rear tires

Day 21
Woke up early in the city of Jasper: a very cool/hip tourist town in a western Canadian, euro- foreign sort of way. Overpriced, but clean and squared away. While hunting for breakfast we got to talking to a guy that was part of a 10 rider group from New Zealand. They had had their bikes shipped to Miami, FL and were riding to Prudhoe Bay - hardcore. He had targeted me because he noticed the Dalton Hwy sticker on my bike. Two interesting things:

• When Alan told him we had made the Fairbanks-Prudhoe-Fairbanks run in two day we got lots of, "oh wow's", and "awesome job mate". These guy and gals were totally into adventure riding and were totally impressed with our effort. Hey baby, street creed - we got it.
• They all had The Dragon sticker's on their bikes . They had heard of Deal's Gap in New Zealand and had ridden it coming up from FL. We don't know how good we've got it right at home.

The morning's ride from Jasper to Lake Louise, Alberta via the Icefields Parkway: absolutely magnificent. The parkway runs between two mountain ranges and summits at the Columbia Glacier. Words are a mere distraction - check the photos.

Par for the course it started to rain half way through the Parkway - the raingear goes on and the great seanary goes away as visability fades; can't see out of a cloud. Emerging from the cryogenic rain we arrive in Lake Louise for a late lunch. A couple of calls made to motorcycle shops reveals a big problem with acquiring the rear tires we need. As a result we make the decision to be in Great Falls, MT the next day; they have tires and are will to accommodate us. So its 2 PM, we are 350 miles from where we need to be and we're in the wrong country. Time to lay on the throttles - and that's exactly what we did. Through Banff, Calgary, and Lethbridge and into the US at the Port of Sweetgrass. Thank you for letting me back in - I love the USA and being back on home turf.





















Day 22
Out of Shelby, MT and for an 80 mile, 44 degree, blast in to Great Falls for tires. Good shop -- great guys - treated us right. Alan tried to work a deal for me to get onto a Honda ST 1300, a good idea but bad timing. The KLR has earned the trip back home.

Next stop: Big Timber, MT to visit with Tommy and Charlene Price, good friends of Alan's. Our visit was cut short due to Tommy's impending trip to the hospital emergency room after a close encounter with a nail gun. Again, check the photos closely.

Tomorrow we run the pass at Beartooth Gap and on into South Dakota.

Day 20, The Coldest Summer

Stats:
Travel: Houston, BC to Jasper, Alberta
Distance: 420 miles

Today’s ride puts me in a mind to quote more Mark Twain, “The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco.” Substitute Canada for San Fran and you get the idea. The last hundred miles down Mt. Robson was in a black pouring rain. It was so cold for so long today that even Alan thought it was cold. His comment, “How do you spell rain in Canada…c-o-l-d”

Again, not a particularly interesting day if your not there to participate. We got a reasonably early start into the 40 degree morning. We spent all day on the same road, the Yellowhead Hwy, heading directly east eventually stopping in Jasper, Alberta. Jasper is a tourist town and is physical inside of a Canadian national park. Tomorrow we ride what is billed at an exceptionally scenic road: the Icefields Parkway; 140 miles through a number of glacial fields. Tomorrow we have to make some routing decisions based on how much we want to see, what our return date is and how long our rear tire holds out.

Today’s feature attraction was the wildlife, in particular the elk. We saw a pair of fair sized bucks and then a large buck eating at the road side; very cool and seemingly not concerned with us when we stopped for a photo.

bty
- We have a new camera on board (WalMart in Prince George, BC - yahoo), so the photos resume starting now
- Also, Alan is taking a bunch of pictures - I just can't download them with this laptop





Looking back at Mt. Robson post-cold-water- rinse








Elk #1






Elk #2








Elk #3: The big buck eats & with Alan in background

Day 18 & 19, Mileage…the Hard Way

Game Stats:
Day 18
Travel: Whitehorse, Yukon to Dease Lake, BC
Distance: 415 miles
Wildlife Watch: Coyote, Moose, BEAR

Day 19
Travel: Dease Lake, BC to Houston, BC
Distance: 420 miles
Wildlife Watch: Moose, BEARs (3)

Day 18
Doesn’t it strike you as ridiculous when you see people repairing their cars in the parking lot of the NAPA store? I mean who are these people – don’t they have home’s to go to? why are they here working on their broken down heaps? Well, at present, those sorry people is us, and no we don’t have home’s to go to so we here we sit, working in the parking lot. And that is how our day started; mending the bikes in the parking lot of the Whitehorse hardware store. A man’s got to do what a man’s got to do.

On the positive side, I’ve got to say these bike’s get all kinds of great comments from everybody: Where’ve you been? Where are you from? Why’s that motorcycle so ugly, My brother’s got one just like it, etc. It’s cool in a funky sort of way.

Most of today’s ride was mundane and un-noteworthy, except for the COLD. I don’t know what’s going on here, thermal inversion?, global cooling? But it is as cold as can be. I’m wearing everything I've got and still freezing. I’ve told Alan to remind me of today next week when we are baking like potatoes as we ride through the Southeast USA.

Our ride starts by retracing 250 mi of the Alaska Hwy, from Whitehorse to Watson Lake. There we hang a right and head south on the Cassiar Hwy. And, much fun it is. Two lanes wide of black asphalt, no lane-lines, no center line, no guard rails, and very little signage. This road is our alternative to Alaska Hwy, taking us south by a different route.

The day’s excitement occurred when I witnessed a luggage strap untie itself from Alan’s top case, flap in the wind a bit and proceed to get caught in his rear wheel. Ever heard the term, wrapped around the axel? Well that’s exactly what we got. Luckily we were able to get to the side of the road quickly and unwind the strap before it snatched out a couple of spokes. No damage occurred.

Day 19
Today’s adjective: SNAKEBIT, because that is exactly how I feel – everything is going sideways. The litany of self pity includes, but is not limited to, the following: Camera broken, Pam not home when I call, lost my bible/devotional book, and it is cold - Again. And it has started to rain.

Additionally, all my gear and clothes are covered in that dad-gum calcium-chloride, super-mud. Forget controlling pharmaceutical drugs like dope – we need to make calcium-chloride a controlled substance and get it out of circulation and off the roads. Hey Tom, need a little cheese to go with that whine you’ve got there? I know, the attitude is starting to show.

At present I am hiding out, typing away, in the swank upstairs lounge area of a resort on the side of Cassiar Hwy. A very nice place, too: the Bell II Lodge. Apparently this is a helicopter lift center for folks that ski otherwise inaccessible mountains around here. Alan is asleep on the couch. “Why are we here?”, you ask. Well we stopped for a quick break ~ 11:15AM, just passing through, when the gal behind the counter informed us that the one-lane bridge, 60 miles up the road, is closed for repair from noon until 4PM. What the …!?! So here we sit with 3 hours of unexpected down time. Ouch. This thing is clearly not in the plan – Where’s the manager? Who’s in charge here? I want some answers, pronto. Guess what nobody cares – this is the Canadian wilderness and it refuses to be managed. There is a good lesson for me buried in all this – I have to ponder it out as we ride. Anyway, we’re making the best of it. I tracked down a laundry machine, got clothes going, ate lunch, Alan’s snoozing and I’m corresponding. A couple of GT guys will stay productive.

Random Thought:
There is a funny dynamic present in this trip that is worth commenting on. As anyone who knows me can attest (and Alan appears to be in the same mold), I take my vehicles pretty seriously and have spent the money over the years to prove it. Hey, we work hard and spending a few shekels on the motor toys seems reasonable. Nuff said.

Prior to this trip Alan and I had never done any dual-sport motorcycling or “adventure riding” as it is called. So in preparation for this trip we dutifully researched the “right” bikes and gear, ultimately selecting the Kawasaki KLR 650. The wisdom of the choice is manifest every day when we ride and our decision continues to look sound. The bikes have performed flawlessly.

However, as we move though this tour and meet other adventure riders we are clearly being viewed as under-gunned, half-men in a full grown world. The real adventure riders are all on the big BMW GSs. A very serious machine, with a very serious price tag, and a bonus feature: it is way too complex for you, a mere mortal (and non-German) to work on. Roadside breakdown, and it’s good night sweet prince.

Well it is kind of funny watching this pecking order in action at the places we stop and stay: who hob-nob’s with whom. Our KLRs earn us a seat at the kid’s table while the real men retire to the smoking room to discuss big game safari hunting and high finance – stuff we wouldn’t understand. I think this is kind of funny because I have no aspirations to be an adventure rider (kind of getting it out of my system right now), and doubt I’ll keep the KLR after we return.

But this situation clearly has Alan’s knickers in a twist. Good-gravy-man, Alan is a Goldwing rider: crème de la crème, top shelf, top dog, first among equals. Having the premium two-wheel ride along with the massive amount of mileage he has logged earns him a lifetime appointment to the top heap in most cycling circles. But, not here, and not now. Getting relegated to the sandbox by the adults does not suit his temperament at all.

It is fascinating watching him wrestle with this dilemma: he knows we have great bikes, they have performed exceptionally, and they cost 25% of the BMW. Yet, there are all those BMW riders – totally devoted to their machines and obviously putting in a ton of miles in this Adventure Rider Mecca. Are we missing something here? Do they know something we don’t? Anyway –I have no resolution or answer, but it is an interesting situation to observe.

Days 16 & 17, Pictures

Alan - getting to know the locals

Glacier - east of Anchorage

Moose before Chicken

The man from a town called Chicken

Magnificant view from the road out of Chicken

At the Canadian border crossing

Dawson City, the original Capitalof the Yukon

Days 16 & 17, Of Moose and Men

First – Happy Fathers Day

• Dad I love you and think you’re the greatest. Hopefully, we’ll get to discuss this adventure in-person before too long.
• To my little shavers, Claire Elizabeth and Joseph Thomas, I love you, am extremely proud of all you’ve accomplished in the past year (academics, cheerleading, lacrosse) and am missing you something fierce. We’ll celebrate on my return.
  

Game Stats:
Day 16
Route: Anchorage to Tok, AK
Total Distance: 335 miles

Day 17
Route: Tok, AK to Whitehorse, Yukon
Total Distance: 525 miles

Our last two day’s ride reminds me of a favorite Mark Twain saying, “A man with one foot on a hot griddle and the other on a block of ice is, on average, comfortable.” Alan and I are as well, on average, comfortable with our last two day's performance.

Day 16
Saturday, was an unmitigated disaster. Anyone who’s done any serious motorcycling has had a day like this. Late start, stuck in traffic, road constructio, crumby roads, more construction, rain, stuck behind RVs, more construction, more rain (cold rain), more construction, and more rain. You get the idea. We just couldn’t get going and when we did we couldn’t make way. Tt was a goat-rope of the first magnitude.

We ended up calling it an early day and stopping in Tok when we had originally targeted Dawson City. It was simply too late to make the mileage and there was some uncertainty about exactly when the Canadian border crossing closed. This turned out to be a good call. We terminated our favorite activity, riding scooters, for our second favorite activity, smoking cigars and drinking cold beer. All in all - a good trade.

Day 17
With motorcycle touring, just like golf, every day is a new beginning. Forget what happed yesterday; that we were sorry and worthless, today we are motorcycling gods and here to kick ass and take names. And that is exactly what we did.

Up early and on the road south out of Tok by 6:45 AM. Took the Stewart Junction east toward Chicken, AK. An absolutely awesome road. Imagine a road that goes through the mountains but stays relatively level, i.e. follows a topographic line. Big sweeping turns – foliage not too thick, so you can see what’s coming - totally in the zone. About 40 miles in Alan bike made a big bull moose jump – which I saw – stopped and got these photos. Check out his antlers – still in velvet but their going to be big.

Arrival into the greater Chicken metropolitan area; this might not be at the end of the world but you can see it from there. Teeny-tiny: three bldgs. Dirt road out of town, which we took. Within a mile Alan scared up another moose, but this time it was in front of him and stayed on the road for 100 yards while we trolled behind. Mooses is big.

This dirt road out of Chicken in called the Highway to the top of the World; 110 miles of gravel and hard-pack dirt road to Dawson City, Yukon (50 miles to the Canadian Border, and another 60 to Dawson). Again and awesome road – for you bikers think of the Cherohala Skyway, but dirt, and with no guard rails.

While we blasted along this virtually abandoned road like nobody’s business I had this recurring thought: If Pam could see this right now she'd say, “Tom what in the world is the matter with your brain function: Chicken, Alaska isn’t remote enough for you? You had to find a dirt road out of Chicken and take that into 100 miles of wilderness?” And you know what?, she’d be right. Anyway we did it and it was great. That's why she loves me- right?

Got into Dawson City – you take a ferry across the river and into what looks like the old west: main street store fronts, mining supplies, saloon, bunk house, etc. Had lunch. Then it was time to turn on the after-burners; its 2:30 PM and we still have 300 mile to go. Not much to say here other then we was flogging those dogs – we stayed on those little KLRs like they owed us money?. Heck, I don’t run my Harley at 80 mph, and it's three times bigger. Made it to Whitehorse, Capital of the Yukon.

Back into the bush tomorrow – will catch-up as available.

Sorry - photos not loading - I will appened as soon as I get a good connection

Days 14 & 15, Starting Back

The Stats
Day 14
R&R in Fairbanks
Cleaning: bike, clothes, selves

Day 15
Fairbanks to Anchorage
Total Distance: 370 miles

Friday seemed a particularly tough one, even though we did not do a lot of mileage. The going was slow coming out of Fairbanks; at first due to road construction and RV traffic and then due to forest fire activity. We didn’t see any active fires but we saw and smelled that the fires had been there recently. There were lots of cleanup crews at work.

At mile 130 we stopped at the Denali Park Princess Lodge. Here we had lunch with Karen Anderson whose son, Mark, is married to Alan’s oldest daughter, Holly. I’m not sure what you call that relationship (outlaws once removed?) but she’s family and it’s always great to see family far from home.

We earned our Suck-it-Up Merit Badge on the run from Denali to Anchorage. It started to rain, it got cold and the road was straight and boring. Sometimes you’ve just got to hang onto the handle bars until you get to where you need to be. It was that kind of ride. Additionally, Alan caught, or had a reaction to, something that triggered his head cold resulting in some severe coughing. We took a break and then found the first place in Anchorage to stop. A short nap and a large slab of grilled halibut seem to have brought him around.

The return phase is now underway. Our goal is to work our way back home using a minimum of the roads we used on the way up. This unfortunately is tougher than it sounds – some of these places have only one road between them. Period.

The general plan at this time, subject to daily revision, is to travel south through Anchorage and then northeast to Delta Junction. Here we will continue norteast into Canada to Dawson, Yukon and then south via the Klondike Hwy. Whitehorse to Watson Lake (a road we will have to retrace) and then south on the Cassair Hwy to the Yellowhead Hwy going east. A big attraction is in Jasper, BC: Icefields Pkwy. We’ve been told this is a fantastic drive. Our real challenge is avoiding Edmonton and Calgary. Where we enter the US is still up in the air.

More Prudhoe Photos

Alan and I agree - this photo says it all about the Dalton Hwy: Pipeline, gray dirt road, Brooks Range looming, and the road goes on for ever.


The Deadhorse Crew: Tom, Alan, Frank, Rick












Antigun Pass: Coming and Going

















Coldfoot Truck Stop - the best thing for 500 miles








The nature shot - these wildflowers it looked like snow as we entered the valley



Journey's End
Haul Road, I knew ye' well

The Pictures: Prudhoe Bay & Back, pt 2

Days 12 & 13, Believe and Achieve

Headline: Conquering Heroes Victorious. Returning to civilization after engaging in an odyssey so epic, so bold, so full of manly feats and daring-do it challenges this author’s ability to do its description justice.

Well, maybe not that dramatic but an amazing adventure none the less. The Stats:

• Route: Fairbanks to Prudhoe Bay to Fairbanks
• Depart Fairbanks: 4AM Tuesday
• Return Fairbanks: Wednesday, 11PM
• Total Saddle Time: 27 hours
• Total Distance: 1004 miles
• Current Status: Laid up in the Fairbanks Best Western licking our wounds, patching our bikes and getting ready for more fun.

The Launch
Monday evening, after spending the day prepping our scooters, we noticed two very “trail-ready” motorcycles in the hotel parking lot. Tracking down the owners we find Frank and Rick from Madisonville, KY, who were planning to go to Prudhoe Bay the next day – same as us. Now, readers of previous log entries may have noted we can be pretty rough in our assessment of the folks we meet, i.e. the Three Stooges from Louisiana. Well, just to be fair, in the same 10 seconds we were able to size those bone-heads up we were able to determine that Frank and Rick were good guys, knew their stuff and could be trusted to ride with. So, forces were joined. That evening we ate together, corroborated info, laid in a course and set expectations for Prudhoe: 4 AM liftoff, reservations at the Caribou Artic Inn and the Artic Sea Bus Tour departing the hotel 5:30PM.

The next morning things moved essentially to plan. Kickstands up ~4:10, a good omen. We ran 75 miles north of Fairbanks, on two-lane highway, to a place called Livengood; this is where the James B. Dalton Highway begins; a 411 mile dirt road to Deadhorse, AK.

Hell Bent for Leather
Candidly, I was shocked and intimidated when we fist started up the Dalton Highway, the Haul Road. It is loose dirt and gravel with no warm-up section; you go right to the bad stuff. Thankfully, we were with Frank and Rick. If it had been up to Alan and me we would have averaged 35 mph and we would still be out there. I had no idea you could do 65 mph on a dirt road, but Frank and Rick did, and they went right to it. Well heck, if they can do it, so can I – after all that’s what we bought these bikes for. Mach 2-with-your-Hair-on-Fire, now has new meaning for me; and this went on for hours.

60 miles up the road is the Yukon River crossing – the only place the Yukon River can be breached – very big, deep, and fast. We took a break.

At mile 195 is the Artic Circle; again a break. After days of highway riding, which can be kind of boring and tedious, this was totally different – I didn’t move a muscle for hours-on-end excepting my hand ad feet: throttle, brakes, shift and clutch. I was staring holes into that trail – it had my undivided attention. At 65 mph the front tire kind of floats over the rocks – very unsettling for a street bike guy like myself.

Gutting It Out
At mile 260 is Coldfoot - an abandoned mining community and the last gas until Deadhorse which makes it a very important stop.

It then started to rain, and continued to rain for 2 more hours.

Then we started to climb. The major obstacle on the Pipeline route is the Brooks Range – mountains running east west. The road traverses the Range at Antigun Pass – Check the pictures. A gravel road, steep-up, steep-down, slick and muddy going, dry and dusty coming and marked with Avalanche Warning signs just to keep your attention if you got bored. Again a break.

Aside: I would be remiss if I told of the tail of the Haul Road without a significant discussion of dust. I’ve never seen such and unfortunately I was riding sweeper which put me in the prime position for dust interaction. This dust is a fine gray talc – but with a grit to it. It got everywhere: I had a make-up line across the bottom of my face where the helmet was, I can still taste it and you don’t even want to know what was coming out of my nose. Today, we spent all day working to de-dust our bikes and our clothes. Absolutely nasty.

Next was 150 miles of flat tundra to Deadhorse. While this sounds straight forward it was anything but, due to road conditions. There are lots of different surfaces on the Haul Road and in fact the pavement parts are the worst. The pavement is so broken and patched with gravel you are constantly on the pegs coming on-to or off-of the pavement/dirt transition.

Additionally, this road has a very special kind of mud - not natural mud but chemically enhanced mud. Think of mud on steroids. They put calcium-chloride on the roads to keep the dust down. Not only does that not work but when wet it makes the road slicker than a baby’s bottom. Every one of us very nearly dumped our bikes at one time trying to negotiate this stuff. Oh yeah, another benefit – it’s highly corrosive.

The Triumphant Arrival
Finally, into Deadhorse – dazed, beat, dipped, dusted and baked. No time to clean up – off to the Artic Circle tour. It’s nice to have a seat to yourself – none of the tourist types wanted to be anywhere near us.

Anyway that is kind of it; there is not much to say about Deadhorse. It is an industrial town supporting the North Slope drilling operations. Nobody lives there and nobody wants to be there. It’s all about doing your shift and getting home with a paycheck. Not only is Deadhorse dry, (i.e. you cannot buy alcohol), but it is even illegal to have it (extra-dry?). But that’s OK by me because it would be an outrageous waste of a good drink to have it in place like Deadhorse.

Well, we ate good and slept like logs. We got out the next morning into a 36 degree rain. Let me tell you, that was one gloomy and depressed departure. But the sun came out an hour later and the weather held all the way home. We arrived in Fairbanks at 11PM – scraped the mung off of our bodies – and celebrated with a cigar and a beer and we split a bag of chips for dinner. A great adventure.


Important Note: Alan has observed, and I concur, we have definitely felt the power of your prayers during our trip. While the going was definitely rough and called for some determination on our part we got extra help at a number of critical junctures, and circumstances moved our. In particular I cannot get over the number of good people that have popped into the picture to help us out: Frank and Rick, the gas at the Yukon, the mechanic in Deadhorse that let us use his pressure washer to clean our clogged radiators – we are in awe and amazement of God’s continued blessings.

The Pictures: Prudhoe Bay & Back

Our Hero's at the mandatory Artic Circle photo op. This is 200 miles out of Fairbanks.

Notice the confident smiles and cocky posturing. We have not yet been humbeled.









The Un-Easy Rider:
Attitude starting to show.

Thouroughly soaked - Coated in dust - and baked. (Hey, isn't that the recipe fried firded chicken.)




Wildlife alert:

• Musk Ox...Musk Ox! I thougth those things were prehistoric. Nope. Just hanging out, 100 miles north of the Artic Circle, munching tundra grass
• Caribou are everywhere

Congraulations offered at eh top of the world - good job





Alan dips a finger in the Artinc Ocean- Tagging Home Plate






Alan - Contemplating the Artic Ocean at Prudohe Bay, and sending this photo for Tim at 29 Dreams