The Last Great Highway on Earth

Day 15 – Saturday, July 11

Dalton Highway

“Over four hundred miles of gravel, winding through the arctic wilderness. The lifeline of the Trans Alaska Pipeline, driveway for rural residents, and gateway to Earth's most magnificent wilderness region. Truckers, miners, and indigenous residents working together against the elements to help each other subsist. More traveled by caribou than man. The last great highway on Earth.” - quote found at the Yukon River Camp

From pics-day15-16

We left Fairbanks, a new day, a fresh start. Yesterday was rough for me. Nothing particularly challenging about the ride or the day, I was just tired and struggled to stay alert for most of it. One of the things I love about motorcycle riding is that, even 2 weeks into the trip, getting on the bike in the morning is like pressing the refresh button. There's no lingering fatigue from the day before and you can hop on feeling ready to go. Just eighty miles out of Fairbanks we hit the Dalton Highway, also known as the Haul Road and so named for the industrial trucks that haul equipment and supplies for the pipeline. First rule of the road: yield to big trucks.

The sign for the Dalton Highway is littered with stickers and names of people that have been before – like us, seeing this as one of the last big adventures to be had in Northern America. Immediately following are yellow warning signs cautioning that the pavement ends and that commercial trucks frequent the highway – we stop to take a picture. This road will lead to the arctic circle.

The road is of course dirt, but surprising easy to navigate at this point and the miles fly by with the biggest challenge staying far enough behind James to avoid being engulfed in the trail of dust that lingers behind him like the contrail of a jet plane. We watch the pipeline snake across the landscape, looking like a never-ending tube slide at a water park. Everything else is pristine and the pipe, oddly enough, looks in place with its own young history and mystique. It is, after all, the reason why we can come this far north by land – and this is truly and amazing wilderness to see.

We ride through Boreal forest – a mix of spruce, aspen and birch - the southern face of the slopes denser because of the more generous share of sunlight they receive. Permafrost creates marshes and bogs where green grass grows tall. Fire is a part of the life cycle here, and looking across the hills you can see where fires have burned their way through the forests, seeming to selectively choose a narrow path, burning some and leaving other parts untouched. Patches are covered with fireweed flowers in dense blankets. The name for fireweed originally perplexed us, as it's neither red nor orange, but rather a pretty pinkish-purple. Now the name is now longer a mystery as it's clear that these flowers brightly spring up for morale where fire has left it's mark. Some of the mountains are completely covered in purple.

We reach the Arctic Circle, marked by a wooden sign at a turnoff on the road. Here in summer, the sun takes a never-ending bow along the horizon, but never really sets. Just within and with a change in elevation we reach the arctic tundra. Within minutes the trees disappear and what's left is an landscape of lichen-covered rocks and hardy, low-lying shrubs and flowers. This is caribou country and the home of the musk ox, wolf, arctic fox, arctic hare and of course, bear.

We reach Cold Foot Camp – a stop along the road that's not big enough to claim itself a town. We stop at the gas station/general store/motel/restaurant for dinner and to gas up. Across the road, and the only other thing in town is a visitor center. It was a beautiful interpretive center with amazing displays and helpful locals.

One of the displays had some alarming advice about dealing with bears: If a bear is on the defensive, stay calm and speak to it in a calming manner. If it continues and makes an attack you should lay face down and play dead with your legs apart so that he can't flip you over. If the bear starts to feed on you, you should fight back, because now the bear is no longer in a defensive mode, but rather a predatory one.

Ya think? I'm not making that up.

At the visitor center, we received advice on where to camp and met a German fellow on a KTM that we are camping with. All is well and the road from here promises to get a bit more challenging. Word is the Brook mountain range pass is covered in 2 inches of mud. Looking forward to tomorrow it will be difficult to sleep despite our weariness.

From pics-day15-16

From pics-day15-16

From pics-day15-16

From pics-day15-16

From pics-day15-16

From pics-day15-16

From pics-day15-16

From pics-day15-16

Denali - Anchorage to Fairbanks

Day 14 – Friday, July 10

The ride through Denali was beautiful as we made our way from Anchorage to Fairbanks. In the distance we can see the big white peak of Mt. McKinnley surrounded by her siblings. We stop to read about those that have scaled her 20,000 feet. Here the tourists from the cruise ships are brought for the day by bus and at one stop we become part of the attraction – dirty motorcyclists on an Alaska adventure. The air is more clear and you can smell the sweetness of summer, no longer masked by that of smoke.

Land of Extremes

Day 12/13 - Wednesday/Thursday, July 8/9

The Alcan continues north from Tok into Fairbanks but we take a turn south towards Anchorage. We have tires waiting for us in Anchorage - knobby tires which will be better suited for the terrain further north. We've had plenty of fellow motorcycle travelers so far, but few will head as far north as we will and the road will get lonelier.

We left Tok and headed for Anchorage. The road is lined with fireweed, a purplish wild flower. Behind that rows of aspen, their silver and green leaves trembling in the wind like coins on a belly dancer's skirt. As we approach the St. Elias mountain range the forests look like they've been illustrated by Dr. Suess - spindly black spruce trees shoot up, some taking random turns and then heading up again. The ride, and most of the scenery in the distance is obscured by smoke from wildfires in the surrounding areas.

Through the mountain range we encounter the first glacier I've ever seen. Long and wide I can see it from the road as it carves its way between the mountain. A milky river flows from it later down the road. I imagine it would be quite beautiful, but I can barely see it because of the smoke and all attempts at taking pictures of it are dissappointing. Small homes and resorts along the highway have single or double engine planes in the driveways and strips of grass along the highway get a windsock and become landing strips.

Arriving in Anchorage we head for the Air Force base since we'll be staying at then inn there. Rolling through the gate, the guard, thinking we were here to stay, says, "Welcome to Alaska. It will be the best posting you've ever had." I'm immediately taken with Anchorage - a culturally rich port town that seems small enough to be lovable but still have everything you need. Alaska's most metropolitan city, it's set against a backdrop of beautiful mountain ranges on one side and sea on the other.

We headed to Alaska Leather - our tire change staging point. We only had time to do one bike and we headed of to the Moose's Tooth, a local institution that makes their own beer and a pretty mean pizza.

Today (Thursday), I got a special treat thanks to my friend Jennie who insisted that I needed a massage. Not one to argue with good sound advice, I took off for a massage while James went to finish his tires. My message therapist, Athena, was the bohemian sort. Curious about what brings people to this part of the world I ask her if she's from here. She came along with her family when she was ten. She loves it here, and describes Alaska as a land of extremes.

The early part of the day was spent swapping and shipping tires. Before we knew it, it was 2:00 and we still had to grab breakfast for lunch at Gwennie's, a greasy spoon kind of place that's another local must-try. Full on reindeer sausage and scrambled eggs I got to thinking that hopping back on the bikes at 3:00 to high-tail it to Fairbanks sounded like a raw deal. We were on vacation after all. Maybe the massage had gotten to me, but I suggested staying another night and exploring a bit more of Anchorage. It didn't take much to convince James and we vowed to start early tomorrow and make up the time.

We'll start off early tomorrow and press through Fairbanks. The rougher parts of the road will start there and services will get fewer and far between - I'll try to update as possible.

From Pics - day 11-13

From Pics - day 11-13

From Pics - day 11-13

Bombing about town with my new tires and the old ones strapped to the back:

From Pics - day 11-13

From Pics - day 11-13

From Pics - day 11-13

From Pics - day 11-13

From Pics - day 11-13

From Pics - day 11-13

Breakfast, lunch and dinner for the next three days - lol... the ridiculous portions at Gwennie's.

From Pics - day 11-13

From Pics - day 11-13

Midnight Sun

Day 11 - Tuesday, July 7

We are in Alaska - finally! I'm sitting here at our camp table, it's almost one in the morning and it's still light out. You know in theory that Alaska summer days are long, but it's a different thing to experience it. And as I sit here, it's hard for me to keep in mind how late it is. Even more amazing is that I can hear wolves howling not too far in the distance.

Today we rode from Whitehorse in Canada's Yukon province across the border into Tok, Alaska. The Yukon is wild just as you'd expect. The word Yukon solicits images of burly men, dog sledding and panning for gold - and and it's not without cause. Gold panning has gone high tech though, and when passing glass lakes you see the occasional dredging pump strategically placed by some hopeful.

A hundred miles into the ride today we started getting warnings from people that the road up ahead would worsen. Armed with our BMWs, that news, plus seeing a bike coming from the direction we were heading covered in mud, was enough to elicit smiles on our faces.

James and I had just finished a break and were heading back out when construction brought us to a halt. Waiting for a pilot truck to take us through the construction area several people on bikes and locals in cars hopped out to chit chat. This is normal in these parts. No matter where you stop you talk to fellow travelers or locals, everyone passing stories of where they've been and where they're heading. There aren't a lot of people out this way, but the roads are frequented by motorcyclists and other adventure seekers. Yvonne, the self-proclaimed artist of Destruction Bay who talks to us like old friends issues us a stern warning about the road ahead and tells that just a few weeks ago a motorcyclist fell prey to the poor road conditions and never made it home.

Of course this was cause for concern - you never want to hear something like that. With it in mind we take extra care as we continued on beyond the construction and hit a good patch of road and picked up the pace a bit. This was still the Yukon and the speed limit was 90 kilometers per hour - so something like 45 mph. On big open road that's really hard to do on a motorcycle - trust me on this. So we were cruising along, just a bit faster, when a Mountie (called this even though he's in a pick-up) coming from the other direction flashes his lights and pulls us over. James and I look at each other. This could get expensive for not one, but two bikes. The tall gentlemen comes along side us and asks if we understand kilometers and if we knew how fast we were going. He didn't make us sweat it for long and kindly told us early on that he would just be giving us a warning - a lucky break. He and his wife used to ride, he said, before kids came along. Genuinely concerned he too shared the story about the fallen motorcyclist, gave us each a formal warning, and telling us to be safe sent us on our way.

We took it easy through gravel patches and frost heaves and kept waiting for the really bad part. It never came. Matter of fact, what was a nightmare for many was just getting to be the fun part for James and I. A quick peak at the forks indicated that sure, we'd used just about all our suspension travel on some of those roller coaster-like frost heaves, but there was nothing to get distressed about. Frost heaves? What frost heaves?

We finally made it back to the border and in to Alaska. It was a relief to see speed limits and distances in recognizable measurements. Ninety miles into the border we rolled into Tok and at the first campsite we checked who do we find but our lost travel buddy Brad. He had traveled the same roads earlier and jokes about having been jealous of us and our BMWs as he was bottoming out in thuds over the frost heaves.

Time for a good night's sleep.

From Pics - day 11-13

From Pics - day 11-13

From Pics - day 11-13

From Pics - day 11-13

Our new friend Brad

From Pics - day 11-13

This Adventure Stuff is Hard Work

Day 10 - July 6

From pics - day 10

The highway took us from B.C. to the Yukon, back to B.C. and then to the Yukon again - guess it couldn't make up its mind! We made it to Whitehorse for the night. It was actually a lighter day of riding - only 380 miles compared to 400 plus most days so far. We're on day 10 of our trip - almost 1/3 of the way through. It's hard to believe that we've come this far and exciting that we should finally be entering Alaska tomorrow. We made really slow time and lost our friend Brad who we met at the beginning of the highway (he took our picture at the sign for us). He's riding from Texas by himself and our trips were heading the same way for a while so we've been camping together the last couple of nights but we lost him on the way to Whitehorse. You can check out his ride blog at http://bradrides.wordpress.com/.

It was another beautiful ride. We saw more wildlife (I'm going to start a little ticker to count all the wildlife we've seen) and visited the sign forest. People from all over the world have left signs there and the history of how it started is actually tied back to the building of the road in the 40s. It was really interesting to walk around and see all the signs and pieces of themselves that people have left behind. We'll be back through there on the way down to the Casiar highway so James and I are on the lookout for a way we can make a sign and add it to the forest.

On to Alaska!

From pics - day 10

From pics - day 10

From pics - day 10

From pics - day 10

From pics - day 10

Enter the Rockies

Day 9 – Sunday, July 5

Yesterday we made it to the beginning of the Alaska Highway. Confusingly, it doesn't actually start in Alaska, but in Dawson Creek, British Columbia. We still had all of British Columbia and the Yukon to ride through before the road enters it's namesake state. We stopped for the night just outside of Fort St. John, had dinner and made another new friend who we rode with for most of the day.

The Alaska Highway was originally built by the Army Core of Engineers in 1942.Until that point, there were no roads connecting the lower 48 with the Alaska frontier. In short, with the events of WWII in mind, the road was commissioned to make Alaska reachable and therefore more defensible for the US. It was a rough road, literally and figuratively, for the troops, but they pressed on through the wilderness, laying the trees they cut to make the way as the base of the road. The project was a feat of determination and engineering that would be impressive even by today's standards.

Today we started out again on the legendary Alaska Highway. The first 100 plus miles were quiet, but the the Rockies began to gracefully introduce themselves and what started as foothills quickly became impressive mountain range. Slowly climbing, the peaks and valleys began to reveal themselves. In the distance, a collage of mountain shapes in various shades of bluish-gray were covered with ominous clouds making not so idle threats.

From pics - day 9

From pics - day 9

As the day went on blue mountains became green and rocky and we were carving our way through them, stopping frequently to take pictures along the way. As we reached the higher parts, there was snow atop the peaks in the not-too-far distance. At one of our picture stops just as we were done taking pictures of the scenery a big horn sheep came tromping down the road towards us. He was beautiful and surprisingly brave. He came close, about 8 feet away, and looked at us quizzically, seeming almost as curious as we were. He was a highlight and I got some great pictures of the handsome fellow.

From pics - day 9

From pics - day 9

Capillaries of rushing mountain steams made their way towards bigger rivers. The road meandered down along the river, sometimes crossing paths - road and river like two big, twisting ribbons strewn between the mountains. The river met lakes and we road lakeside as the sun began to take its time setting.

We encountered so much wildlife. Certainly more than I've ever seen in my life. The first we saw was a black bear on the side of the road. We pulled up and warily stopped to take pictures. He just sat there, happily chomping away at wildflowers, ignoring the strangers there were rudely staring while he was eating. We saw a moose along the road, also eating. Everyone seems to be making the most of this plentiful season. The moose is a rather odd looking animal. It seems like God got creative one day and went to the spare parts bin and grabbed a little camel, cow, caribou, and viola, moose! They are serious looking animals despite their awkwardness and I find them rather charming. We saw many more bear as well as wild buffalo and other critters. It was so amazing to see a momma bear and her two little cubs, not much bigger than footballs along the road – apparently the wildflowers along the side of the road are even enough to tempt a watchful mother bear. We didn't stop for pictures, but road past twice, just in grateful to see them.

From pics - day 9

From pics - day 9

From pics - day 9

The ride ended well and the best way I can describe the day was enchanting. We stopped at Liard Hot Springs to camp and and ended the day soaking in natural hot springs at midnight.

Getting to the good stuff

Yesterday we got to beginning of the Alaska Highway. Now for the fun part. I'm sure their will be lots to tell about tonight.

From pics-day 8