This is what the road between Tok and Anchorage looked like at midnight. Little did I know that I was heading for darker skies and freezing rain over the Chugash Mountains before I dropped down into Anchorage. Later this evening I dodged no less than 3 moose. One so close I had to brake hard in order to not harpoon the draft horse sized ungulate. They are hard to see at night. I also got my first taste of Alaska style road maintenance. They don't screw around trying to fill potholes. They just rip the whole road up for miles on end. You're cruising along on nice tarmack, then suddenly you find yourself on a muddy road right out of the congo (except colder). This was becoming more of a challenge than I wanted at the end of a thousand mile day. When I rolled into Anchorage at about 5:00 AM local time I was definetly done. You could stick me with a fork.
I got about 4 hours rack time then had to get my bike over to Alaska Leather for my new offroad tires they were holding for me. They said I was the first idiot ( I mean adventure rider) to come by this early in the season from the lower 48.
Later that evening, Chuck, a friend of a friend ( thanks again Aden) picked me up, bought me dinner, gave me the nickle Anchorage tour, and regaled me with stories of his GS exploits. The next day he loaned me the use of his garage so I could change my oil. Thanks again Chuck. Anytime, anywhere, man. I regret I didn't get a shot of Chuck.
Anchorage was OK, but I was gettin itchy to head north. Downtown was like downtown anywhere, except that the small green City Hall lawn was carpeted with drunk Indians. Sad.
I did enjoy seeing the floatplane base at Hood Lake. Largest assembly of floatplanes in the world.

Chad. The dude that mounted my new TKC-80's. The deal is, you dismount your own rims and Alaska Leather will mount your tires for you. For a price. It's not exactly what I would call a motorcycle service center or "shop". But they will order any tire for any bike and keep it for your arrival in Anchorage. This is WAY WAY convenient. As most riders put some serious mileage on their tires just getting to Alaska, and then you need specialized rubber for the gnarly stuff, it was mucho smart of Alaska Leather to offer this kind of service. I was impressed.

Mugging it up with shy little ole Barb at Alaska Leather.

This is Chad's offroad GS. Let me explain. Chad owns two GS's, one with knobbies, the other with street tires. He's always ready for anything. I learned a lot from Chad. He's done all the bad roads the Great White North can throw at you. You can find him as akmoto on the advrider.com.

My steed with it's new shoes on. Now I'm ready for the Dalton Highway.

This unassuming little dive is the coolest motorcycle accessory store Iv'e ever seen. When I rolled in there on Memorial Day weekend the place was a zoo. ( all the other bike shops in town were closed) Barb, the owner, nevertheless made me feel like one of the family. She offered me something to eat. Made a fresh pot of coffee for me. Arranged to have my new tires mounted. All the while, customers were milling around in there like ants on an anthill. She was moving around faster than a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs and never lost her cool. The crowd was this eclectic mix of adventure riders, weekend warriors, and Harley types. Amazingly, no fist fights broke out. It was like, hey man, you got the balls to ride anything on two wheels in Alaska, you're all right by us!

Could not resist getting a shot of my beemer in Mike's exclusive parking spot.

This is Mike and his very cute granddaughter. Mike is the friend of a friend who, knowing that I was traveling to Deadhorse, introduced me to him as he is the chief pilot for a major cargo carrier in Alaska. He is a pilot's pilot. This guy has flown everything from Supercubs to 747's. He flies C-130 Herculies into Deadhorse all the time. As a pilot myself, I was fascinated by this guy. He invited me over for a chat one day. I could have stayed there all day listening to his storys. As it was, he was able to talk to somebody up in Deadhorse who had actually eyeballed the current conditions. I got realtime weather info from him. Thanks Mike.

Mike's idyllic home.

Even though I haven't been a cruiser kind of guy, I have to admit that I love all motorcycles. This is Mike's custom hand built ride. Beautiful, ain't she!

No Harley parts were used in the construction of Mike's custom bike. Hence the moniker.

Through a friend of a friend of a friend, I was introduced to Rick Horstmann, who is a pilot for K2, which is located in Talkeetna, Alaska. He's a damn nice guy. I hung out with him at the airport in Talkeetna. I was lucky enough to get on one of his flightseeing tours to Mt. McKinley. In addition to being a great pilot, he was a wealth of information regarding the geology and natural history of the area. This guy has my dream job. He retired from the navy after they decided he was too old to continue having so much fun. He's been flying for K2 ~10 years. In addition, he's also a musher. He's competed in the Iditerod Dog sled Race, among others. In the winter when he's not flying, he and his charming wife, Linda, offer clients a chance to experience dog sledding. This guy has way too much fun. He offered to put me up for the night in his guest cabin. I couldn't refuse. I'd spent enough nights in my tent.

The Susitna River, not far from Talkeetna.

A terminal glacier moraine and Susitna River as seen on the flight from Talkeetna to Mt. McKinley.

The beautiful but inhospitable view out the cockpit window.

This is what the ice looks like on the glaciers when it is not covered in snow or dirt.

The Mt. McKinley base camp. Climbing season is late April- June. Only ~50% of the climbers that attempt this climb succeed. The camp is located at 7,200 ft.

This is a good view of exposed crevasses. Some of these go down thousands of feet, as the glacier itself is~ 1 mile thick here. It's easy to see how falling into one of these could ruin a climbers day. I believe this is the Kahiltna Glacier. I may be wrong.

Rick, do'in his thing.

Eye candy.

More eye candy.

Rick told me why the glaciers form these horizontal bands lower down the mountain, but alas I have forgotten. Beautiful nevertheless.

Rick wasn't even sure we were going to be able to fly this day. Then it cleared enough to at least fly over the glaciers. As you can see, with the cloud layer, landing on a glacier did not look like a feasable option. Denali and the Alaska Range is so big it creates it's own local weather. Rick was in constant contact with other pilots in the area, in order to get up to date, real time weather info. As it turned out, we were able to land. That was the culmination of one of the most awesome flights I have ever had the priviledge to experience.

The view out the copilots window.

You always take off downhill on the glaciers. What a beautiful spot.

My friend Rick and I on the Ruth Glacier with "Denali" and the" mountain house "in the background. I got to sit right seat with Rick in this classic Dehaviland Beaver with it's 450 hp P&W radial. Way cool!

South peak of Mt. McKinley. The summit is 20,320 ft. above sea level. It was still 2.5 miles above us, even though we were standing on a glacier at~8,000 ft. Puts it in perspective, huh.

The south peak of Mt. McKinley as viewed from the Don Sheldon ampitheater, located at the head of the Ruth Glacier. Sheldon built the "Mountain House", the hexagonal structure barely visible to the right of the outhouse up on the rocks.

The Great Gorge. The Ruth Glacier. This is the deepest canyon on earth that's on land ( there are deeper canyons in the ocean ). The cliffs are 4000 ft. high and the glacier is 1 mile thick. If the ice melted away, the canyon would be over 9000ft. deep. Awesome.

For you aviation freaks out there, this is the dirt strip in Talkeetna that legendary bush pilot Don Sheldon flew off of. Unbelievably, despite all the dangerous flying this guy did, he died from natural causes in 1975 at the age of 55. Read" Wager with the Wind"to learn more about this muy heroic dude.

Rick put me up for the night in his guest cottage. Cozy and comfortable. Thanks again Rick and Linda.

In the winter when he is not flying for K2, Rick and his wife Linda give clients a taste of Alaska dogsledding.

These dogs love this guy. You can imagine the bonding that must go on between someone racing in the Iditerod, and their dogs. Pure teamwork. Mutual love and devotion. OK, now I've gone and made myself all misty eyed. See that shed in the center left background? That was Rick's dogfood storage til a big grizzly ripped open the door. You could still see the claw marks. Rick told me he had to move his camper next to his dogs and spend the next few nights with them. Everynight the griz came back. When he did, Rick would bomb him with a M-80. After a few nights the bear decided his serenity wasn't worth having this dude throw giant firecrackers at him and went away for quieter pickings.

Rick's dog sled team. Rick told me that the optimal size for these dogs is 55- 70#. Also note their long legs.

Future sled dog

Everywhere you looked, just more beautiful snow covered mountains.

.....yeah, I know....

View of the Alaska Range between Talkeetna and Denali National Park. Note the unusually well defined snow level. I saw the most awesome grizzly near here. Unfortunately, as he was only 50 yards from the road, and the few seconds I took to decide if it was actually safe to take my hands off the clutch and throttle, gave him time to stand up, check me out, and apparently decide I was scarier than him- he bolted, fortunately in the opposite direction. It would have been the best shot of the whole trip had I pulled it off.

Inside Denali National Park.

Moose cow and yearling calf inside the Denali National Park.

The great "Denali" as viewed from the the northeast inside Denali National Park.

The wood decked bridge at Yukon Crossing. When wet this bridge can be a nightmare for motorcyclists. Fortunately it was dry when I crossed.

Getting dirty enough to feel like a real adventure rider. It was raining for the first 50-70 miles of the Haul Road. The hills were unbelievably steep. Had to be greater than 10% slope. And slippery. Oily snot is the closest metaphor I can come up with for describing the quality of the muddy road. I don't think I got out of 2nd or 3rd gear til it stopped raining.

A view typical of the Tiaga between the Yukon River and Coldfoot.

Made it to the Artic Circle. Just as I was fumbling around trying to rig up my mini tripod and take a self portrait, this English accented voice behind me in the woods, asked " you want me to take your picture, mate?" Turns out I had stumbled upon Murray Spark, a British bloke that was riding his bicycle from Deadhorse, Alaska, to Tierra del Fuego. In addition, as if that wasn't challenging enough, he's also climbing several mountains as he proceeds south. Why you ask? Both his parents died from cancer, and he is doing this trip as part of a fund raising venture for a British cancer research foundation.
My hat's off to you Murry. Best of luck.
You can check out Murry's progress at his website: peaktopeak.co.uk

My campsite at Coldfoot. I had asked one of the transcient workers about where to camp. He had suggested Marion Creek which is just north of Coldfoot, but the next guy I talked to said Marion Creek was infested with grizzlys. The next guy I talked to said he never steps outside without a loaded 44 magnum. I'll never know how I managed to sleep at all that night. But I did.

The road between Coldfoot and the Brooks Range Mountains.

Up ahead are the Brooks Range Mountains with Atigun Pass in the clouds. I was worried that I was heading for a snow storm, which can happen any time of the year here, but the conditions remained favorable. Just cold, steep, loose rock. What more could you ask for?

The north side of the Brooks Range. Just made it down from 4800 Ft. Atigun Pass.