Day 18

Another mile burner today. 614 miles. Just covering distance to get set up for the run home. Not bad considering that we frittered away at least an hour chatting it up with several biker couples we ran into at a gas stop. We were directed to some secret short cuts to Hinton, just outside the park (Banff), and they were lovely farm and oil roads on which we saw very few other bikes. Real secrets indeed. We will spend the night outside the park as one couple told us lunch of 2 chili bowls, a pull pork sandwich, a chocolate milk and a coffee was $44 inside the park. Lucky we don't stop for lunch!!

We did see, today, a black bear, 2 elk, and many deer, one so close I could smell its breath before it leapt off the road. I saw its little friend in the ditch and had slowed, fortunately. But, I missed the one right in front of me. Bruce, too, didn't see it until it jumped out of my way; not that it would have helped me much if he had. Maybe, it would have provided some closure for the family, I guess. The close calls are becoming commonplace. Well, that's what adventure is all about. Oh! There were two dead moose, too. Hit by trucks last night, I expect. Too bad. They were within a mile or so from each other and were probably acquainted.

There's lot of time to think on these long days. I figured out what distinguishes intelligent life from non-intelligent life and from each other. I have, finally, figured out what DNA is up to and I have a good idea why but, the latter is a stretch and I'll have to fill in a “proof” before I'm comfortable with it. I, also, figured out why some clouds rain on you while others don't and why one part of a cloud will rain on you when another part stays white and fluffy. Yes, there is a lot of time to think.

A special thank you to Coatesy and Sandy for the doo-rag. It is especially appreciated high in the snowy mountains since it keeps me warm as well as helmet head free.

Day 17

Today started sunny and dry. It is just an “eat the miles” day to get us out of the frozen north and down to Banff, which we missed because of the blizzard on the way up. After clouding up a bit, we spend the day dodging the occasional shower and working our way to Fort Nelson. This does take us through the only section of the trip that has offered any glimpse of wildlife and the best road so far. No exception. The road (BC Route 97) from Fireside to Tetsa Lake is one of the most fun and challenging I have ever ridden. Concentration must be at 100% because not only is the road often cut with decreasing turns that are a particular challenge at double or triple speed but, there is always the likelihood that around the next corner is a big fuzzy animal like a moose (saw six, nearly bagged a nice bull but the music in my headset scared him away – same with a mother and baby - darn), big horned sheep (again scared by the radio – turned it off and you could walk right up an pat them), bears (6-7), grizzlies (1 small) and several herds of goat. Oh! And about 30 buffalo with little baby! It makes for an interesting 120 miles of white knuckle riding. My legs were all cramped up by the end but, when will I ever do it again??!

Before I put on the music, I did get some more wildlife pictures. Perhaps the most interesting are those of the running bear. Even more interesting is that it is chasing Bruce. Apparently, he was intent on crossing the road and a bike to his left (Bruce) and a bike to his right (me) had him convinced that his bigger brethren were challenging him. He chose Bruce to face down first. I was snapping pictures when I heard Bruce's bike talk off. At that point the bear stopped and looked in my direction. I was off the bike, without helmet and shooting pictured and he must have thought, Ah, another bike! So he headed towards me. I ran for the bike, threw the camera in the trunk, popped my helmet on, tried to pull my gloves on while trying to start the bike at the same time. As soon as the engine kicked over, the bear must have felt it had won and it galloped across the road and into the bush, where it seemed to settle right down and start sniffing around for stuff to eat. Nevertheless, it was a little exciting there for a few moments!

Tomorrow we should make the north edge of Banff. We have changed our itinerary and will probably swing through Yellowstone instead of doing the pass in Rocky Mountain National Park.

Note: Alaska was dry and relatively bug free despite the carnage on our windshields. Walking about was not a problem. Same is true for Alberta, the Yukon and BC. We have had reasonably dry days for the important parts of our trip and no bugs. Bruce's research proved dead on.

Day 16

Another bright sunny day. High cumulus clouds pepper the sky. There are a few showers but they are avoided by speeding up or slowing down.

More dirt as we approach the border. It appears to be part of the Homeland Defense system. You can't drive into or out of Alaska without enduring several hours of bad road.

Nonetheless, it's beautiful ride scenery-wise. More of the same different mountains.

I notice a beautiful magenta flower that often borders both sides of the road in the Yukon. They tell me it is called a Crocus and is the first to bloom when winter is fading. That sounds like our Crocus but, this is a short shrub. More research is needed. I took a picture to try to track it down. Sometimes a carpet of dandelions is spotted with five or six “crocuses”. It's impressive. The dandelions are not like those in my lawn in that one plant will produce 6 or 7 flowers. The color is the same and it stikes me that they would make an excellent ground cover on the hill around my driveway, especilly if I could get some Yukon crocuses to throw in the mix. More research there too.

The road after customs is atrocious!! There are huge dips and bumps for the next two hours. Not nice easy ones but something similar to speed bumps and roller coaster dips. I had to ride thyem as if in a steeple chase – all in the stirrups. My legs are still pretty strong but it was a workout. Speaking of which, my left shoulder is getting stronger every day. I can wave to other bikers without stabbing pain. I can even reach back a little. However, a sudden change from warm to cold, as often happens riding the mountains in the spring, nearly paralyzes my entire left arm until it acclimates. Weird.

Of note today, we see four moose, four swans, and a geological puzzle.

The highlight of the moose was that two were a mother and a new baby. The calf could hardly stand and walk to keep up with mom. Mom became nervous when I stopped even though I must have been a 2000 yards away. She hustled junior into a bush patch on the “plain” and he either collapsed from exhaustion and on signal from mom. After a bit, she decided I was OK and followed him into the bush and laid down, too. The next car passed would never know that there was a mother moose with a baby there. I wondered how many hundreds, or thousands, of moose I have passed in this same way.

The interesting thing about the swans was that their necks were yellow. I believe there are three kinds, Mutes, Trumpeters, and another, but, I don't recall this feature. I think there was some black on their face, too. More research to do and I did not get a picture. I was in travel mindset and I missed it. Well, it's first a bike adventure, then a photo documentation. I'm going to miss some good ones and get some bad ones --- like today's “mountain of the day”. Or for that matter, the moose. Even with my 270mm lens all the way out, the picture is little more than evidence of the veracity of my observations.

The puzzle of the mountains was that, heading south, the mountains on the left side of the road were worn down domes while the ones on the right were tall, sharp, and pointy. Maybe the last glacier stopped at the road or maybe the pointy mountains grew after the last glacier receded. Whatever, it's a bit curious to be riding down the road with old beat up mountains on one side and sharp new ones on the other.

Tomorrow we head to Watson Lake and beyond to cruise Banff and then Glacier parks. We'll ride Rocky Mountain National Park to add crossing the highest pass to our checklist and then point ourselves east.

Note: On a past day we traveled through a poplar forest. Who knew they existed. But the entire area was nothing but poplar trees. Such uniformity was rather pretty. It was a warm day with now breeze and the air was filled with that sweet poplar smell. I was reminded of learning to make a wooden whistle from a poplar branch one spring when I was in grade school. I was so thrilled to learn the “secret”. On another day we passed through a white birch forest. On both sides of the road, as far as the eye could see, birches. Lovely. They are sweet smelling too when they warm up, only a little muskier that poplar.

The food all trip has been nothing but trucker food and not very good. So, I've stopped eating it. I had nothing yesterday and a sandwich today. I do like the shot of protein or fiber, or both, in the morning but most is too greased up and loaded with potato. It's not worth paying for. A bag a cheese curls would be as healthy and taste a lot better. Maybe I'll do that tomorrow if I can raise an appetite.

Day 15

We are blessed with another beautiful sunny day to go find Jerry, the 78 year old top Goldwing mechanic. We flounder around in Sterling and Soldotna until we find the shop we had seen from the road day before yesterday. The area has changed the house numbering but the phone book I check still has to old number, a peat moss distributor. After some prodding, a phone call is made and directions obtained. Although we get the street number, it is not remembered long enough to take advantage of out technology. I do my best and Bruce uses dead reckoning to get is on spot without trouble.

Jerry is a nice fellow with a well equipped shop and years of experience. A lucky find. But, the bad news is that the wheel bearings are gone. So much for the word from on high – now she laaaaughs!! But, it get worse. After pulling the tire off and removing the dust seals, it's obvious that the left (I think) side has completely deteriorated. It IS amazing he didn't go hurtling off the cliffs on The Top of the World Highway!!. It is so bad, that what is left can not be knocked out and it must be cut out. A Honda dealer would not have been authorized or cared enough to do this work despite that it would add 2 hours to their bill. They would want to sell Bruce a new wheel, bigger bucks, but I doubt they would have had it in stock. So, we would have been stranded for 3-5 days waiting for a shipment. Thank god for Jerry. What a guy. Within 3 hours he has the old bearings out and new ones in and we are back on the road. His fee? $154. I helped with the work – holding the tire steady and stuff and Bruce provided a substantial tip with both surprised and gratified Jerry. Even so, it was cheap at twice the price.

The ride back to Anchorage provide another mountain shot that I had been waiting for. The light had left me a little but it was now or never so, I pulled over to my pre-selected spot and shot. Certainly good enough for what I need to share with friends and family. It is posted here.

We move on toward Tok (pronounced “toke”) which has us backtracking north on I A1 to where it joins I A3 to Fairbanks where we came down. We are on new highway that begins as a beautiful little country road with overhanging poplars and firs and begins to wind up into the mountains. It goes quickly, the temperature drops and we find ourselves maneuvering tight switchbacks and twisties higher and higher into sharp, craggy peaks … big ones. We go up and up and the view is simply indescribable. And then, right in front of us … a dieing glacier. She's a bit pitiful but her past rage and determination are in evidence all around the valley walls. And, she is still beautiful in her last days. I have a feeling she will return, stronger than ever and maybe in the not so distant future is the cooling continues.

Since we have lost time with repairs, we decide to push on to Glennallen, where we will pick up the I A2 to Tok. It will mean an 8:30 arrival to a location that may not have any facilities. Somehow, we make it by 7:30 and there is a lovely lodge that has a room. Some times she loves me and sometimes she just laaaaughs. The last 10 miles are dominate by a straight road aimed at a huge mountain that seams to raise alone from the plain. I am transfixed and it's very lucky a moose didn't want onto the road. I couldn't take my eyes off that miles long allee of trees bordering the tarmac rifling us at this behemoth. Incredible!

Note: We saw many Bald Eagles and a moose I n addition to the glacier.
Note: Because the wheels are wider on the new Wings, there are two bearings on each side.
Note: Increasing the darkside tire pressure to 32 psi makes devouring the twisties impossible and part of the fun of our final road is lost. I'll drop it to 30 or 28 and then back to 26 if the reliable and consistent “grab” does not return.
Note: It surprises me what a small change in tire pressure can do to your competitive edge. I'll bet Joel knew this, but probably doesn't care, from his NASCAR involvement.
Note: Except for the depressing run from Tok to Fairbanks, Alaska is awe inspiring. The north is a big disappointment but the south is incredible almost without exception.

Day 14

It's a beautiful, bright, sunny day. After a hearty breakfast at the Sunrise Motel, a real old fashioned road side motel with nice rooms, good food, gas pumps, and fun staff/owner, we head to Homer. Immediately, the scenery becomes more sedate but it's an enjoyable ride with many fine sights. Closer to Homer, the mountains across the bay really shine.

We stop at the end of the road and Bruce notices that he has front end trouble (on the bike). He's been complaining of break issues for a few days but won't let me drop the pads and check them. Now he thinks it's hid front wheel bearings. So, we head slowly back to Anchorage where Bruce things the Honda dealer may have some experience with Goldwings. We stop at the Sunrise to top off the tanks since we now know the next gas is 89 miles away!!

As we enter the city limits, it occurs to me that it might be wise to call. They may be open on Sunday and be able to help AND they may be closed on Monday, as so many dealers are. The machine tells us they are closed both Sunday and Monday. So, we turn to the Gold Book, a listing of Goldwing riders who are willing to help stranded travelers. Our Anchorage contacts points us in the direction of the best shade tree Goldwing man in the state – just about 10 miles south of the Sunrise Motel – we passed him and noticed two trikes and a Wing on the lawn. I figured he was a used bike dealer. Guess we should have stopped.

Route I-A1 out of Anchorage to Coopers Crossing, where the Sunrise is, is caller Trooper Ally by the locals. We have skipped by 5 today and take, I wish I could say, took it easy on our return. But, we made record time as I we like a horse that smelled the barn. My day was done. Bruce kept up even though he was worried about his front end. A little pay back – I had bearing trouble after our Labrador 400 miles of horrible sand and loose stone and he told me not to worry and we pushed on for 1500 miles. Although he was ready to have a tow truck haul his baby out of the Walmart parking lot I had discovered from which to make calls, he was more anxious to get her to a trusted mechanic so he wouldn't have to do 1500 more miles to get it repaired.

I finally convinced him to let me take a look. He held down the back as I spun and twisted the front wheel. There is a definite drag coming from somewhere but I don't think it's bearings. It's breaks. One of the calipers has stuck because of the dust of The Dempster and The Top of the World. A little compressed air and some “dry slide” and it will be fine. Could have done it all at Walmart. Well, we'll see if god will make a fool of me again and produce some dire failure that we were lucky to get this far with tomorrow.

Until then, we'll have a nice meal, maybe a beer and a good night's sleep again!!

Day 13

We meet a gray morning. We decide to head south toward Homer and the day quickly turned wet with cold rain. But, by 10:30 the clouds were lifting and, eventually, the sun came out and we shed our winter gear. By 3:30 it is back on and we were in rain again.

Regardless, the entire trip from Fairbanks to Anchorage is beautiful, if you like mountains. The road runs a valley between two ranges of mountains. So, we have rugged snowy peaks on both our right and left. We stop for a view and pictures of Denali but he/she is cloaked in clouds. I'm told she, I will say, is fully visible only about 30 days out of the year. We catch only the occasional glimpse through the heavy clouds. She lies in a notch cut within a closer mountain range that act like her guardians. They ARE visible and very striking. She is 20370 feet, although recent GPS/satellite readings have placed her a tad higher. (A diversion – the same methods used to calculate her hight are being used to calculate the universe's size, expansion rate and the distance to stars. If Denali is off by even a foot or two, and we thing it might be 7, how much confidence can one have in the measurements of space and time? As I've often pondered, there is a lot of faith in science. And, accepting that, as most serious scientists do, one cannot rule out the existence of the almighty – as, of course, those who know my story, I can not do despite my devotion to physics.)

We are headed to Homer. We'll return the way we went in and then drop down to Seward returning on the same road. Both destinations are end of the road destinations and a little backtracking cannot be avoided.

Leaving Anchorage, a very large town with a Nordstrum and a Westin, we are delivered to long bay with mountains that just drop into the water. It's an impressive sight and the road is a blast. It's flat as it hugs the shore line but it is filled with twisties that, given the number of other bikers we meet, is the primary Saturday putt. I don't blame them. If there is so much as an ice cream stand at the end of either the Seward or Homer runs, that would be all the excuse needed, assuming any is needed at all.

Here my mother would have found her paradise with the mountains at her back and the sea before her.

Reindeer kielbasi for supper tonight. Tastes just like kielbasi!

Day 12 - Top of the World

We were early for breakfast and waited a few minutes. Then, with a goodbye to the Belle of The Yukon, we hit the road to Fairbanks. We were warned at a tourist info booth in Watson Lake and then heard the grumbling from the locals that the road from the US customs was 46 miles of dirt. More dirt we didn't want but it's the best way to get from Dawson City to Fairbanks. What they failed to mention was that the 80 miles in the Yukon to get to the border are also dirt. We've done over 700 miles of dirt.

I was sorry we stayed at Zero Mile, at The Junction, and not Dawson City because Dawson City is a mining town that promotes itself as such and has a casion with Can-Can dancers and lots of fun pubs/bars. Also, thats where the movie crew, Steve Martin and Jack Black were partying. Maybe we could have bought them a drink! When we pulled into town, I wasn't sorry any more. It's a real tourist trap. All the above opportunities are there but it all fake. It would have been fun to rub shoulders with the movie types but I've got a bad rotator cuff, so … It was nice to get to know our people and the Zero Mile is handy to The Dempster, which was the point in our being there.

Three other riders that we passed heading out to Eagle Plains and maybe Inuvik all came back after crossing the circle. The wind and pea stones were not only a problem for our big bikes and small courage but for the small bikes and their reckless youth. I felt vindicated as I was beginning to doubt that I still had the adventurous spirit and was too willing to easily give up. I guess not.

I must say that the seniors bicycling through our hail storm on The Dempster and on their way to Inuvik put all us macho bikers to shame. I'm sure they have a chase or lead vehicle and some were working hard to slug it out to the first camp, probably Tombstone, but hail, rain, mud, slick clay surfaces were not stopping any of them. I was humbles. What guts and determination showed on their faces.

We crossed the Yukon River on a free ferry provided by Dawson City and suddenly I am experiencing one of my other wanna do rides, The Top of The World Highway. Who knew it was there? I had the idea, mistakenly apparently, that it was in central Canada.

It was threatening rain and the clouds hung low. It's dirt, yes. And, that's not fun on our machines. But what incredible views. It makes the Blue Ridge Mountains look like just so many hills. The Top of The World takes you HIGH. It's above the tree line where you look down on frozen rivers and snowy peaks. Despite the poor weather, or maybe because of it, it was spellbinding. I almost missed more than one turn as I tried to gather it all in. There were no guard rails and the drop in some places was easily over 3000 feet!! There were numerous switchbacks, especially on the US side. I would have loved to have devoured it but it just wasn't one of those days.

I was not in a Drive Like Hell mode – odd. So I just cruised it and if an opportunity justified a picture, that is, something really representative or different, I stopped and shot it.

We saw a moose, some rabbits and a coyote. Plus the VIEWS!!

We stopped at Chicken at the technical end of The Top of The World Highway and had a beer in the Chicken Saloon. It's a bit of a local “must see”. It's a small, only about 15 x10 foot room, with two tables and 5 stools. And, of course, the obligatory brass foot rail. I don't know if it goes back to the mining days but it's made to look old even if it isn't. Inside is bedecked with thousands of business cards, hundreds of ball caps, tee shirts, and police/fire/military patches from around the world. Oh yes, and, mostly, ladies underwear that has been shot out of a canon, I assume after a good party night and some coaxing. Unfortunately, Susan, the proprietrix appears to be an ass. If there was any competition, I fear she would be put out of business. And, I think the young and very nice couple in the 'other' gas station, who have build a very appealing gift shop … from which we did not buy … are putting together a little log house that will be a restaurant. If they get a liquor license, the saloon may be in trouble. I wish them luck and her no good.

The town got its name when the original minors wanted a post office and needed an original name. They all wanted the name Ptarmigan after the local prized bird. But, no one could agree on the spelling. However, everybody knew how to spell chicken … so there you have it. That my story and I'm sticking to it.

Within a mile of Chicken, we are back on tar and the rest of the trip to Fairbanks is like riding through any one of the 57 states in which Obama campaigned.

Funny, all the states reflect the same homogeneous impression. The crown of the road, the hight of the electric poles, the spacing and color of the dots on the road, the size of the shoulder, the setback of the houses, the entrance to gas stations, placement of street lights, the size/shape/color of street/route/and highway signs, etc. From state to state, it's all the same. Even the guard rails scream USA. Maybe this is good but, it depressed me as I saw it. We are all slowly being cookie cutter-ed.