My Alaska Journey

Why Alaska, you ask? And why by motorcycle?
It all started sometime back in the early '90's, when Tom McIntyre, an old friend, and beemer fanatic, said: "Wouldn't it be cool to ride to the Artic Circle". Yeah, I said. Then promptly put that thought on the back burner.
In August,'06 I was up in the mountains, camping with my son and our horse's. For entertainment, I had brought the "Long Way Round", which we watched on my son's laptop every night. One night we had some friends over for a gourmet cowboy dinner, and the conversation somehow turned to my trip to Africa. In 1993, I and two other friends shipped KLR 650's to Capetown with the intention of riding them to Germany. I, however, highsided my bike in the northern Kalahari after a freak blowout. My injuries precluded further offroad riding, and I regretfully returned to the states, still having had a great time riding through South Africa and Namibia. My friends did make it to Germany three months later. Their trip is a book in itself.
When I recovered from Africa, I went hardcore on the motorcycle thing. I rode everyday, commuting, traveling by bike. I owned a Suzuki GSXR 1100F, a Honda ST 1100 and eventually a Honda Goldwing GL 1500SE. I'd taken my ladyfriend to the Grand Canyon on the back of the Suzuki in November from San Francisco. ( I wouldn't recommend that, if you want to stay in a relationship). Her tears were frozen to her face by the time we rolled into Flagstaff at 10:00PM. I was a lane splittin' fool on the Gold Wing. Had to buy that after the Grand Canyon debacle. ( although I have to say the thing was amazing on the twistys after I redid the suspension with Racetech gear). My single longest day in the saddle was a trip from Cedar City, Utah, back to San Francisco one early April. Coldest ride I've ever done. Went over Donner Summit in a whiteout just before they closed it down to vehicles only with chains.
So OK, I'm not exactly a noob to riding. Sitting in the woods that night, remembering all these things, plus, I have to admit, "The Long Way Round"effect, made me start thinking: Well, why not Alaska? The retrospective blog that follows, depicts that trip.

My old friend Duane, preparing the" last supper" er, salad, I would eat prior to hitting the road on my way to the Great White North. I stopped in Hood River, Oregon, to visit my old friends Duane and Clare, or is it Claire. Really we are friends. I'm just bad with names.

My friend Clare, who didn't want me to take this picture because "I always look goofy when my picture's taken". No shit Clare. I guess you're right. : ) Seriously though, this woman baked the best damn rhubarb pie I have EVER eaten! This is no small compliment considering my late Grandmother was a rhubarb pie making fool! Thank's again Clare.

Just north of Hope, B.C. on the Fraser Canyon Highway.

First encounter with snow on the "Gold Rush Trail". B.C. ( highway 97 )

The Not So Peaceful River Valley.

I elected to take the shortcut from Chetwynd to Fort St. John on 29 instead of going to Dawson Creek. Glad I did. No traffic. Beautiful road. Lots of wildlife. This is an overlook of the Peace River Valley, which is anything but peaceful however, as the Canadian government wants to flood it for power generation. The First Nation's people who live here, would prefer they not do that.

They are not kidding. Really.

The Alaska Highway. A long damn ride, but not so bad anymore.

Sign erected for a group of wanna-be adventure riders, on non-Bavarian bikes, who upon being passed by a group of uber riders on GS's, realized how meaningless and dull their pathetic little lives were, thereby committing Hara-Kiri with their tire irons. Wasn't a pretty sight. : ) OK just kidding. No hate mail please.

Somewhere between Fort St. John and Fort Nelson. The weather continued to be outstanding through B.C. and the Yukon.

I noticed the Canucks use a lot of symbology in their signage. Maybe that's a good thing considering the prevalence of ill-iterit-c. Take this sign for instance: translation; " This will hurt more than running over a squirrel".

Lunch stop. Day 2 on the AK highway.

Is that a good looking bike or what?

Overlook east of Stone Mountain. St Elias Range in background.

The Stone Mountain area S.E. of Muncho Lake

Stone sheep or Dall sheep depending on who you talk to. It was common to round a blind corner and find these little buggers in the middle of the road, totally oblivious to oncoming traffic. Worse was being behind some Okie in a land yacht, who, when spotting these things, would slam on his brakes in the middle of the road to grab a picture- also totally oblivious to the traffic around them.

Muncho Lake. This is the longest lake in the northern Rockies, which end near here, or begin depending on your point of view. The name Muncho is Tagish for "Big Lake". I saw the most wildlife of the whole trip around this area.

Much of the Alaska Highway looked just lke this.

I, Dances with a Screw Loose, was probably too close to this mammalian assault weapon, but he paid me no mind.

Running into one of these guys will ruin your day.

The boardwalk back to the Laird hotsprings. While this seemed like a good idea after a long days riding, I was mindful that two people were killed here by a black bear in 1997, and Charlie Boorman of "Long Way Round" fame had his wallet stolen here. The ranger at the gate offered to let me park my bike next to him and kept an eye on my gear. This brings up one of the few downsides to traveling alone- no one else to watch your back, and your stuff. I took advantage of this guys offer, and was glad I did.

The denuded right of way bordering the Alaska Highway provides some warning from animals jumping out into the road. It also creates a roadside pasture, as enjoyed by this herd of bison. There were numerous signs warning motorists of the wildlife carnage that happens along this road. The most dangerous time for intimate full body contact with these beasts by your vehicle is between the hours of 7 pm to midnight. 150lb. deer take out bikers in California all the time. I could imagine the damage that would occur if I harpooned one of these guys or a moose, which can weigh up to a ton.

Sadly, this is the only shot I got of a bear on the whole trip, despite seeing lots of black bears and a couple of grizzlys. One local I talked to in Watson Lake said "Yeah, the black bears are as thick as rats up here. But don't tell the Chinese ." I ran into some bikers in Anchorage who told a tale of being chased by an angry female bear on the Stewart Cassiar Highway. I personally had no problems. But then I was fastidious about my bear prevention camping technique. I rather prefer staying out of the food chain when I am the protein du jour.

While the Alaska Highway is better than it used to be, there are still sections that are unpaved.
The only surface that scared me, was a short section of road just outside Whitehorse, which was being resurfaced with a layer of 2 inches of sand laid over a thick, hot, coating of oil. Somehow, I managed to skate over this. But if it had been a few feet longer I'm pretty sure I'd have gone down.
I imagined the Whitehorse highway maintainence engineers coming to work that morning, and finding that no life threatening motorcycle accidents had happened in a while, set about trying to remedy that situation. If they could take out an American rider, so much the better!

The Nisultin Bay Bridge at Teslin, Yukon. At 1917 ft. long, this is the longest bridge on the Alaska Highway. I crossed over without incident, but many bikes go down here due to the uneven steel grating it is surfaced with.

A stop for lunch at Teslin, Yukon

The Kluane National Park. It took most of a day to ride through this 13,209 sq. mile park, which is dominated by the St. Elias Mountains. These are the short mountains you see here in the foreground. Farther west these peaks climb to include 20 summits over 16,000 ft., including Mt. Logan at 19,520 ft. Due to it's huge base near sea level, it is the world's largest massif.

A nice piece of Alaska Highway through the Kluane National Wilderness.

I encountered my first serious experience with the road destroying phenomena called "frost heaves" between here and the U. S. border. In fact, several kilometers of road around Kluane Lake was in the process of being rebuilt because of this. Sections of the road looked like the Royal Canadian Airforce was using them for bombing practice. Then it would become smooth sailing, I would let the bike drift up to 70mph, then "oh shit!" I caught some serious air time. I just couldn't see these dips in the road far enough out. That happening once was all it took to regain some commonsense, and slow down.

Kluane Lake.

Kluane Lake, still partially frozen. Man, what a beautiful day in the Yukon!

After murdering a couple of million Yukonese bugs with my windshield, I finally made it to the Alaska border.

That's P.M. After a bucket of coffee in Tok, and given the daylight conditions still present, I felt like riding on to Anchorage. Mind you , I had been riding since leaving Watson Lake, Yukon that morning. This was not necessarily the smartest option I had.