"Life and Lessons

On The Road To Alaska"

2003

by

Bob Nash

The seed for this trip actually was planted 11 years ago when Dick Sidle, owner of Lebanon Valley Cycles, made his inaugural trip to Alaska with wife Deb, aboard a GL1500 Gold Wing. Dick realized that a smaller, lighter bike with more suspension would be a more practical means of trying to tame the infamous construction laden Alaskan roadways. His idea of riding Alaska on an dual sport motorcycle was about to go to the drawing board. The planning had started. It would be Dick, his son Rick, a friend of Rick's, and myself. We chose Suzuki DR 650's for the trip, not only would they traverse the rough roads, they would easily handle the occasional highway speeds. The availability of after market accessories sealed the deal. Not only was there a Corbin seat available,  we also found a very neat and tidy pannier style rack system that accepted hard GIVI luggage, both side bags and a top trunk. They were sturdy, waterproof, and detach with the push of a button.  We were also able to get a five gallon gas tank. We ordered the bikes only to find out that Rick's buddy has begged out of the trip. He has decided to get married, go figure. Rick in the meantime has found a great deal on a one year old DR 650 that he can't pass up. He forgoes the Corbin seat, calling us sissy's. A remark he would regret, more on that later. He also goes with soft luggage rather than the rack and hard luggage set up. He's says he's roughing it!

We try to find a replacement for Rick's friend among a group of friends and riders we know are capable of making this type of excursion, but it's too late. This kind of a trip takes a lot of planning, vacation time, savings, etc. It upsets the plan of two guys to a room, which would save tons of money. It's now late spring, "Departure-Day" is set for July 25th. We have hired a friend, who is willing to tow a trailer full of bikes to Edmonton, Alberta Canada where we will begin the trek to Alaska. We have found two other couples now interested in doing the trip, however they will be on a different time schedule, traveling as a foursome. The good news is we will now be able to split the cost of transporting the bikes 7 ways. We had checked into shipping the bikes by freight and other types of motorcycle transportation and found the cost to be prohibitive. Our driver Adam Kline would leave a week earlier to accommodate the foursome, delivering the bikes to Trike builders, Lehman Industries of Westlock, Alberta. Adam is a retired truck driver and the perfect guy for the job, not only is he dead on reliable, he has a desire to re-visit this area and travel for three weeks with his wife while we do our thing, meeting us back in Seattle to trailer ours bikes home. We have had a great working relationship with Lehman as a major supplier of trike kits  for many years and they were more than happy to accept delivery of the bikes and store them safely until our arrival.

So the stage is set. The three of us would fly from Baltimore to Edmonton on the morning of July 25th, arriving shortly after 1 pm. The plan was to ride a couple of hundred miles before dark to get the feel of the fully loaded bikes and spend the night. What follows is a day by day journal of our trip through Canada and Alaska. I, do not want to maximize our adventure as some great feat. This trip is made by thousands of motorcyclists each year. My intention is only to give you the highlights of our journey, what we learned, what we experienced, and maybe it will help someone who is planning their first trip to Alaska or encourage some to make the ride to Alaska. What ever the case maybe, if our experiences help someone in any way, it's our pleasure. As you will find I am not a writer, my skill in riding motorcycle far exceeds any meager talent I have for writing. I can only hope this will add to the true "motorcycling adventure" we had.

DAY 1  

Westlock, Alberta, Canada    

0 Miles

July 25th

We begin our trip at the Baltimore Washington Airport where we are about to learn the first lesson of the journey. Traveling to Canada requires proof of citizenship just like any other foreign country. Many of you have probably driven to Canada only to pass through a border, answer some questions, perhaps show your drivers license. Well it's a different world today, when traveling to Canada by plane you will need to show a passport or state issued birth certificate. For Dick and I this isn't a problem, we acquired our birth certificates last year when we planned on riding back from Las Vegas across the trans-Canadian highway system. Luckily we both still carry the certificates in our wallet. Rick on the other hand has a very sick look on his face. He pleads ignorance, and that nowhere on his ticket does it state that he would need proof of citizenship, that gets him a big fat "it's the travelers responsibility". Panic leads to desperation and we call home for help. The ticket counter lady finally relents and says a faxed photocopy would get him on a plane, just not the one Dick and I will have to board in the next 10 minutes. After a few frantic calls to the home front Rick's family finds his certificate and promises to have it faxed over to the number he was given at the counter. So Dick and I leave, trusting that Rick will be on the next plane out of Baltimore heading towards Edmonton, some six hours behind us.

We are met at the Edmonton Airport by Lehman Industries representative, Clay, who will shuttle us the more than a hour and a half to Westlock. He has been fully briefed by our home crew about the situation with Rick and quickly offers to get us to our bikes, a motel, beer and food and turn around and head right back to Edmonton to retrieve Rick. He also suggests a stop by his bank in Westlock to do a currency exchange for our time in Canada, which proves to be an excellent idea. It is so much easier and cost effective to pay your way in Canadian dollars. Also when you travel in the frontier areas of Canada, store and shop keepers make up their own exchange rate when presented with US dollars. We get an excellent exchange at $1.35 Canadian to one US dollar.

 We're not sure yet if Rick has made the later flight, and if he has will the faxed copy of his birth certificate get him through customs at the Edmonton Airport. I'm happy to report that due to the great efforts from our folks at home and Clay from Lehman's the day ends well. Reunited in Westlock after a long day we do what comes natural, dinner, beer, and finally an early turn in. We are now behind schedule and are expecting a full day of riding to try and catch up. Lessons for today; do not try to leave the country without proof of citizenship, a good home crew can be invaluable, and do an exchange for Canadian dollars.

Day 2

Fort Nelson, British Columbia     650 miles

July 26 

We are up at 5am, breakfast done and on the bikes at 6:30 am. We head north and west of Westlock, this is flat land looking more like Kansas than what I expected western Canada to look like and it is boring. We make Dawson Creek around lunch time and stop for gas. While trying to figure our gas mileage using liters instead of gallons, the lady at the station tells us that a gallon is equal to 4.2 liters. At first it doesn't sound right but living in Canada has to trump any ideas of what we think it is. We do some quick math using her 4.2 conversion and come up with some idea of what our gas mileage is like. Now I know you people that are "metric intelligent" are saying "man, she was way off" Actually she was off by more than half a gallon. For what ever reason we decide it would be premature to fill our extra gas jugs which we are all carrying. We have lunch at an A&W and hit the road hard.

We are making great time over the flat land and are stretching every ounce of gas we can to keep from having to stop too often. With our tanks almost empty we pull into the only gas station we've seen in the last 50 miles only to find a sign on the lone pump "sorry out of gas"  A person at the store tells us the next gas is about 75 kilometers. We know our remaining gas is low but we head out hoping to make the 46 some miles to the next gas. It's about 10 miles when Dick runs out. We are in the country, traffic has been scarce. We decide to take the little bit of gas I have left and put it in Rick's tank which has slightly more than mine, and send him ahead to find gas and fill up, then come back and share it with us, and we watch as he rides out of sight. Not ten minutes after Rick heads out we flag down a pick up truck towing a trailer with an ATV. Turns out it's a soil conservation officer and he is carrying two jugs of spare gasoline. He offers us all the gas we need to make it the 35 miles to the next stop and refuses any idea of money in exchange, instead making us promise to help anyone else we may come across in need while traveling through Canada. We catch up to Rick in about 10 miles, not hard to do since he is pushing his bike. We drain gas from both our bikes and get Rick going, easily making the next station.

All in all, we still are able to put on 650 miles and make it to Ft. Nelson by evening. We find a decent Travel Lodge at $84 a night (Cn.) and a package store where a six pack of Coor's Light is $12. I'm not a smoker put I notice cigarettes priced at $10 a pack, combine that with $3.50 a gallon for gas and you get the idea how Canada can offer "free" health care to it's people. Tax the hell out of liquor, tobacco and gas. We opt for dinner at the hotel, which is pretty decent, and hit the beds early. We find out that many of the motels in Canada and Alaska offer rooms with three beds, and if not, a roll away bed is usually available. Splitting the motel bills three ways will help a great deal and turns out better than if there would have been four of us riding. Today's lessons; learn some basic metric conversion, take an extra gas jug with and fill it up, three in a room is better than 2,  oh, and pack a suitcase full of money.          

Day 3

Whitehorse, Yukon Territory    1231 miles

July 27 

We're up at 5:00am to find a few sprinkles and some fog. We are approaching the Canadian Rockies and soon come on two confused coyote pups playing in the middle of the road, it's our first wildlife sighting. It's also the day we find out why we made this trip on dual sport motorcycles. The roads now have long sections of loose gravel, the kind of conditions at home on a street bike that would have you being very cautious. It doesn't take long for us to realize that on dual sport motorcycles the conditions are nothing more than a minor nuisance. We hit the gravel doing 60 to 65 mph, even in curves with little effect on the handling. Road construction is now becoming commonplace, the old road is stripped away to the bare rock, stone and mud. Some areas are very soft, some muddy, and it tends to wash the front end making things interesting. Normally through this type of construction you have to wait for a pilot car to lead traffic. In the lower 48 this type of construction would never be allowed, you would have to install temp roads  before ripping away the road surface and allowing traffic to continue. Occasionally if they see motorcycles approaching a large construction site they decide it's a good time to bring out the water trucks to help keep down the dust. It must be some kind of sport for them to watch motorcyclists trying to traverse these kinds of conditions and keep the bike upright. This is life on the famous Alaskan Highway.

British Columbia scenery is by far some of the most impressive I've ever encountered and the closer we get to the Yukon Territory the more active the wildlife becomes. We come across some deer crossing the road along with caribou, big horn sheep, 3 bears and something that stops us in our tracks. Along the shoulder of the road we come across a huge buffalo bull. The largest animal I've ever seen in the wild, probably 1500 pounds or more. We stop just across the road to takes some pictures of him and he doesn't seem to mind us at all. About this time we notice a second bull coming up the side of the road, he is as big or bigger than the first. As they approach each other they both go to the ground and roll in the dirt only to get up shake it off and do it again. After several times the second bull approaches and they lock horns and begin to push each other around like two giant sumo wrestlers. What an awesome sight, we watch for at least 15 or 20 minutes as they struggle with each other in what appears to be a "playful" display of unbelievable power.

It's been a good day, our bikes have performed flawlessly through everything the Highways could throw at us. We've seen wildlife, along with the sight of two buffalo warriors, seemingly putting on a show just for us and we've traveled the equivalent of home to Key Largo in two days of riding. Not overly impressive by street bike and interstate travel, but two full days of riding for dirt bikes on the roads we're experiencing. We reach the town of Whitehorse and stay at an old original looking hotel just off the main street. It boasts a very fine Italian restaurant and bar, and is a very nicely restored hotel. Now for today's lesson, the further north you travel the less chance you will find air conditioning in any building including motel and hotel rooms. It is probably not a problem in most one floor motels in cooler temps, however this day turned out to be quite warm and our room turns out to be on the third floor. It was not a comfortable night.  

Rick has appropriated a motel pillow and dubs it his "Corbin Seat." He tries to stuff it in his riding pants but when that fails he swallows his pride and throws it over his seat. Remember that "sissy" remark about our seats.   

Day 4

Tok, Alaska  1,747 miles

July 28

We get up to our coolest morning yet, too bad we could not get any of it in to our sweltering hotel room. Today will be a short day, we plan to take in scenery and head for the Top of the World Highway and on to Tok, Alaska. First it's north and west to the mighty Yukon River and the mining town of Dawson City. The day warms in to the high 60's and is a picture perfect day as we arrive in Dawson City, this is the real thing. Many original buildings and the dirt roads are still in place since the days of the Gold Rush. We have a fantastic lunch on a side street at a place called Klondike Kate's. We cruise town and check out the visitors center to ask about the ferry across the Yukon, the shortest way north. We are told the ferry is free and basically runs non-stop shore to shore 24/7, except early Wednesday mornings when it gets scheduled maintenance. After some sight seeing in town we head for the ferry and cross the mighty Yukon River which is running deep, fast and muddy. We ride a few hours and find ourselves on the Top Of The World Highway. The gravel road is in pretty nice condition, It's a combination of hard packed earth and some loose gravel. The road is on a ridge surrounded by endless snow capped mountains and peaks, an awesome sight, and a great day. 

            We reach an outpost border crossing at about the half way point to Tok. The crossing is a formality and the guard is happy to answer our questions, like how long do you guys stay up here? He explains they are there for the summer in the living quarters until the snow flies, than it is shut down and they get to go home. These types of secondary borders are operated on an hourly basis, this border closes nightly at 7pm. The road is now heavy stone on the American side. Rim denting kind of rocks and a lot dustier than it had been in Canada and it goes on for 40 miles to the blacktop. Once we hit the hard surface Dick decides to go ahead of us and pull off the road to snap a picture of Rick and I with the spectacular scenery behind. As we roll down a mountain we see something in the distance beside the road but it doesn't look right. Turns out it's Dick's bike on it's side, as he tried to get off the shoulder the front wheel hit some loose stones and went down. Nothing serious, but it counts, he has registered the first official crash of the trip.

                 We head into the village of Tok. It's a very small town with two gas stations, a restaurant or two and maybe three motels. Everything is on the main drag so we gas up and check in to the West Mark. I asked if there was air conditioning, but the lady at the front desk tells me we won't find any air conditioned buildings in Tok but guarantees us a room with a good breeze. The room turns out to be quite nice with three beds dormitory style, with a window fan and color TV with satellite. We decide to eat at the motel restaurant which again turns out to be great and hit the sack. Turns out the room is breezy and by the middle of the night we are all reaching for blankets.

Day 5

Fairbanks    1,961 miles

July 29

We sleep in today and don't get up till 6 am. It's only about 200 miles to Fairbanks and we are not in any hurry. It's cloudy and a bit cool but it looks clear in the direction of Fairbanks. We've been wanting to try our hand at fishing and this looks like the day. We have a great breakfast at the motel restaurant and pack up for the road. We are on the road about an hour when a large black bear crosses the road, he is too far for a picture and he seems to be in a hurry. Another 20 or 30 miles and we come on a large moose on the shoulder having her breakfast. She is not the least bit bothered by us and at the beep of a horn does a nice pose for a picture. We've passed a bunch of streams and rivers but most are running very high and muddy. Rick finally spies one through the trees that is about 100 yards wide and clear as a swimming pool. We unpack the rods and hit the creek fishing it hard with a variety of spoons and lures but there is nothing interested in what we have to offer. We can see some pike along the shore line but we can't coax them out. Dick opts for a nap on the boat launch. As with every other recreation areas we've come across, it's deserted. We've talked to some shop keepers in this area and they confirm their business is at least 40% off a year ago. They blame it on the economy and the jitters of traveling since 9-11. It's been great for us travel wise, light traffic, empty motels and restaurants, but it has really taken it's toll on the tourist dependent businesses in this part of the country. We pack our gear and finish the short ride in to Fairbanks checking in to a Super 8 at a pricey $150 a night. Fairbanks is a large town by Alaskan standards and offers a variety of shopping opportunities. We stock up on very expensive alcoholic beverages for the night and a few goodies like a tow rope for our attempt on Prudhoe in the morning. It's gotten windy and cool and starts to rain as we unpack and go to our room. It turns out it has been raining in this area of Alaska since the beginning of the month. The local news states that it is the wettest July since 1904, and the forecast for tomorrow is dismal, a cold front sweeping in from the north is bringing more rain and cold temps. We find a good restaurant, have dinner and drinks and turn in anticipating a rough go of it early in the morning.

Day 6

Fairbanks   2,124 miles

July 30

Today the weather gods and good fortune turn their backs on us. The promised weather has closed in on us. It's cold, windy, raining and in a word "sucks" but this is what we came for, to ride. We are in Denny's at 5:30 am for breakfast and on the road by 6. As we ride north it starts to rain, not like that sissy rain in Fairbanks but like " Arctic Circle rain." The hard road stops and we hit a sea of mud that was once a gravel road, however the gravel is now gone. The going is almost impossible, you can't get traction to go forward and if you gas it the back end gets loose. We ride like this for a few miles and then stop for a conference. We decide if the road remains in this shape for any length of time we will have to abort. Not far up the mountain the gravel seems to have a better hold and the road improves enough that we decide to keep on, however it is still very greasy in sections. As we build confidence we find our speed gradually picking up and we are soon doing 55 and even 60 mph with only the occasional front wheel wash to get your attention. We continue to climb toward Eagle Summit and into the clouds, visibility is about three feet, winds are ferocious, and now it's really pouring. Thank goodness every summit has a down side and we finally clear it and head down to a dry valley, in fact it's dusty. The rains are on the windward side of Eagle Summit and the going now is a breeze. We come across a small store and gas station near the village of Circle and stop. We find the owners inside and they seem a little surprised to see us, and what a sight we are. Mud sprayed head to toe, soaked and chilled, they ask where we got so wet, unaware of the conditions on Eagle Summit and beyond, and they're curious as to where we are heading. When we announce we are heading to Prudhoe they get a funny look on their faces and tell us we are on the wrong road. That's right, we took the wrong road some 130 miles back, and we are at a dead end. In the rain and crappy weather we took the only other road north out of Fairbanks. We are within the Artic Circle but no way out except the road we came over, our hearts sink. There was a moment of hesitation back at the fork in the road but we caught the glimpse of a sign that read "Circle" and headed that direction. Well, we came to ride, the only problem is we need to go back over the summit and down the mountain that is a sea of mud and getting worse by the minute.

As we reach the summit the conditions have now worsened, the winds have picked up, the rain is very heavy and the visibility is less than one foot. It's all you can do to make out the guy right in front of you and there is no guardrails up here. We clear the summit and are moving along pretty well considering heavy rain, however I find myself falling back, hardly able to keep the bike straight. Dick and Rick soon realize I must be having some problem and pull off and wait. As I approach Rick he confirms my worst fear, a flat rear tire. Now changing a rear tire in the wilderness is enough of a challenge, but in the pouring rain and a few inches of mud....... We remove a saddle bag and find a large rock to prop up the rear end just far enough to get the rear wheel off. A man in a pick-up towing a trailer with an ATV drives up and offers assistance, and we accept, using his trailer as a make shift work bench. Actually we manage to change the tube in pretty good time thanks to our good Samaritan, a part time gold miner who is out scouting a spot for the upcoming hunting season. We're back on the road and moving right along, I take the lead and soon we are back up to 60 to 65 mph. 

The only problem is the awful section of deep mud and no gravel that threatened to abort the trip on the way is now coming up fast and has gotten even worse under the relentless rain. I hit it full steam, it tears the bars out of my hands, pitches wildly left and then right and then digs in hard spitting me high above the seat. As I get off the high side I hit my knee on something which turns me in mid air. At one moment I'm high in the air looking down at the front wheel, and the next, straight up in the sky. I hit hard flat on my back, it stuns me and knocks the wind out of me. Somehow, I guess instinctively I manage to jump to my feet and turn around to see how my partners have made out. After seeing that they both got stopped I collapse back to one knee and start that computer like scan we all have in our brains. You start moving all your extremities, rolling your neck, and then your shoulders. Nothing sticking through the skin, nothing seems broken, you stand and walk around. The program comes back negative on broken bones and serious injury, however I still feel like I was just run over by a truck and I know it will be worse in the morning. Turns out I have injured my back far more than I thought and now have the fused discs to prove it, and the rest of the trip is pretty much in pain, but after all this was Alaska and the trip of a life time, you deal with it. The bike has come through almost unscathed, the one saddle bag has been ripped off and has some light scratches, but the rest of the bike is in drive-able condition. I try to shake it off and we head cautiously back to Fairbanks and right to a car wash to blast us and the bikes off.

 The mud here is different, it seems to be very powder like and has a grit like fine sand, probably volcanic in nature. It is in everything, locks on bags won't work, my ignition jams, and even our flip up helmets are sticking. Not a great day, we limp into a very nice motel complete with indoor pool and Jacuzzi, just what the doctor ordered. Dick heads out for beer in the pouring rain and we call Pizza Hut for wings and pizza.  A good long soak, food and we're in bed early in anticipation of another attempt on Prudhoe Bay in the morning.        

Day 7

Anchorage  2,704 miles

July 31

We're up early to a cold rain, same as the day before. As I expected I can't hardly get out of bed and need help dressing, especially my boots but I know if they can get me on my bike I can ride. We have a quick breakfast in the motel lobby and pack up. We ask the lady at the desk if she has any info on road conditions and she suggests dialing 511 for statewide conditions. The picture is grim, roads north out of Fairbanks have suffered major washouts and the haul road to Prudhoe is sleet to the circle and snow from there to the Bay. We have a choice to make, hang in Fairbanks for one more day or head south and give up on the idea of a second try. We head south for Denali, but the weather plagues us all the way to the park. As we pull into the visitors center near the base of Mt. McKinley we can't even see the other side of the parking lot. Aside from the fact that we know the 20,000 foot mountain is there it is totally hidden in the clouds. It's not a good day for sight seeing but we make the best of it and enjoy what we can of Denali. (yet another reason to return to Alaska, a better day in Denali)

 In the visitors center we talk with a couple of guys on Harleys that are out of New York, they have been plagued with rain most of their trip, too bad. We really have been lucky until recently. We mount up and keep heading south, soon the sky breaks up and the temps warm into the 60's.  We've found the boundary between the rains in the north and the sun and it seems to be about 100 miles from Anchorage. It's about here we come on a bad accident scene, a mini van is in the woods upside down, it has clipped off a couple of trees and it appears there are people trapped in the vehicle. It may have just happened recently, there is no emergency people or vehicles in the area but a large number of motorists and trucks have stopped. In fact the scene is becoming even more dangerous with the traffic stopping along side the road. Not even 20 miles down the road we come on another accident, a truck driver is setting up flares as we are driving through. I notice something on the highway, it's too late to stop we are already in it, it looks like various body parts. I'm relieved to find a large black bear has been struck, a terrible end for such a beautiful animal, but thank God it was animal and not human.

We are about 40 miles from Anchorage when we see our first ambulance heading towards the original accident scene with the mini van. I just realized what the response time must be like between decent sized cities in this area. Those people have been in that van a very long time. We make Anchorage in good time and decide to forgo big city life and keep on the road south to Portage Glacier on the Kenai Peninsula. It's an awesome ride along the inland ocean waters all the way to Portage where we find little in the way of motels and restaurants. It's pretty much a dead end for us so we turn around and head back into Anchorage. We check three sold out motels before finding a nice place at $120 a night. After check in we cruise the town and find a lot of nice looking non-chain type places advertising lower rates. This is one town it would pay you to do some research if you know you will be spending the night. We find no shortage of restaurants, we settle for a great seafood place near the motel and have our first halibut. As we leave the restaurant some time after 10 pm we realize it's still very light out. It appears to be about 5 in the afternoon back home, up until now we had been turning in so early we never realized we have about 22 hours of daylight.

Day 8

Glen Allen, AK   2,888 miles

August 1

Today will be an easy day, so we go in to the heart of Anchorage and do some shopping. Find a shop, go inside, buy something, get out of town. We find some really nice stuff in the Alaska Mint, I highly recommend it. We head north onto the Glen Highway and hit possibly the worst road construction of the trip. It's a slow go through 15 or 20 miles of massive road destroying. It stretches up one mountain, down in to a valley and back up the next mountain, and it's rough and dry. We are about an hour from Glen Allen when the clouds thicken and the temps on top of the mountain drop. First rain, then hail, and finally sleet. We head in to the village and check in to a motel to do some much needed maintenance on the bikes. Chain adjustments and lubrication of all the locks, check oil levels and tire pressures. The bikes have been working flawlessly. It has been a pretty uneventful day.

Day 9

Beaver Creek, Yukon Territory Canada

3,374 miles  

August 2

Today is our coldest start of the trip, it's in the low 30's at 7 am. We plan on a dead end 250 mile trip to the Port of Valdez, Rick looks at us like we have lost all sense. His butt has just about had it, remember that remark about our Corbin seats. He has decided to head north the 130 miles or so to Tok and wait for us there. The road to Valdez is beautiful, lined with snow capped mountains, glaciers and snow fields. We stop at one glacier for an up close and personal visit. We also come across the pipeline and stop there for some photos. Valdez is a small fishing village, and the harbor is a post card. We find a stream with salmon in full migration. It's been a great side trip, however we told Rick we would meet him for lunch in Tok and we have fallen way behind schedule. On the way out of Valdez we pass a few bikes that we have been seeing throughout the trip. So many places in Alaska are serviced by only one road and it is not uncommon to see the same people over and over. These three guys we have seen several times and even stayed in the same motels twice.

      We meet up with Rick in Tok, he is asleep in the grass in front of the visitors center where he has spent the day watching videos. Over a late lunch he fills us in on all the local lore, legends and history. After lunch we head out toward the Canadian border once again. Construction zones are now long and rough, and either very dusty or just freshly watered and muddy. We ride all afternoon and finally reach an outpost border crossing at Beaver Creek only to find a back up of traffic. It seems there is only one guard on duty and he has two guys on bikes and is giving them the third degree. People have gotten out of their vehicles and it turns in to a  "where are you from" party. It's about a half an hour until they release the two guys and a second guard comes on duty. The line starts to move and we cross with no difficulty. We find a West Mark motel in Beaver Creek, actually the West Mark is Beaver Creek. We get a respectable room, no phone, no TV, but a private bath and a pretty respectable bar/restaurant combo. The bar has a TV, so we eat and drink and watch some bad TV before turning in for the night.  

Day 10

Skagway, Ak

3,736 miles 

August 3

It's another cool start but it's clear and looks like a great day to ride. We are on another dead end ride, this time it's Skagway. The road into Skagway is awesome, we pass through Kluane National Park where the road winds completely around an aqua colored Lake, which we find is deserted. The boat launches empty, no fishermen, no campers. We again cross the border between Canada and the US. Skagway is a port village near the top of the inside passage and is rich in history. It was here that the Gold Rush fever hit it's pinnacle. Men and women from the lower states would come to Skagway by boat and launch their journey to the gold fields of the north, over the treacherous mountain passes that claimed many lives. The town has been mostly restored and resembles the way it looked in the 1890's. The road into town has many vantage points where the old trails and passes can still be seen winding up the rugged mountains. It has also become quite the tourist trap, a town of shops and gimmicks. It is a favorite stop to most cruise ships making their way through the inside passage, and from 8:00 in the morning until about 5:00 in the afternoon it is a very busy place. The small streets are crowded with souvenir seekers making it difficult to even ride through town. The lady at the liquor store tells us to wait until after 5 to go find a restaurant. We find a room at Sgt. Preston's Motel, yeah you heard me right Sgt. Preston's. Hey there aren't many choices in town and it turns out to be a huge room with two beds and a pull out sofa with TV and phone. A very nice place for $90 a night. I highly recommend it.

After 5:00 we head out and check out the town. It is now a ghost town, and we find many of the shops have closed. We find a real nice seafood restaurant near the docks and have some great halibut. It's been a good day and a fantastic ride, we retire early. 

Day 11

Dease Lake, BC

4,212 miles

August 4

We get up early and are in a small cafe on a side street by 6:00 am. We are among the railroad men and charter fishermen who will soon welcome the next cruise ships full of people. We can't wait to get out of town before that happens. We head up the mountain pass out of Skagway to find very bad visibility and a light rain, spoiling the opportunity we were hoping to have for some great pictures across the valley towards the famed Chilkoot and Whitehorse Passes to the gold fields. We soon come on the border once again, this being the third crossing in as many days. A young border guard greets us back into Canada and seems more interested in our bikes as anything else. He gives us some ideas for a stopover tonight and bids us good luck.

We reach Carcross on our 60 mile back track north, and head east. As we head east a large eagle swoops down between Rick and Dick, giving Rick and I a great sighting. The road through the rest of the day winds through the Yukon wilderness, but it's hard to enjoy on such a gloomy day. It has been raining since 6:00 this morning, and the hard road has now given way to dirt and gravel, or more like slime and mud on this day. The oncoming traffic spreads a brown mist in the air. We travel the rest of the afternoon in these conditions, finally reaching the small village of Dease Lake, BC. The town is basically a gas station which is closing down for the night, and a motel and restaurant. We decide to give it up for the day and check in to another very nice motel. The room is large and comfortable and we proceed to trash the place with our wet and muddy gear. We find out the restaurant is open til 9 pm and we head over for dinner. By now you know the routine, beers, dinner and early to bed.

Day 12

Prince George, BC

4,812 miles

August 5

Today is our earliest start to date, here is a lesson, don't let guys 12 days out in the wilderness screw around with a strange alarm clock. The alarm gets set for 4:55 am, but also gets set an hour ahead. So after several hits on the snooze we get up at what we think is 5:20 and pack up and head for the restaurant that opens at 6:00. However it is only 5:00 am, I go back to bed while the guys watch some crap on TV. At 6 we are in the restaurant, have breakfast and hit the road. It turns out to be a cool but nice day. The road is mostly dirt and gravel all the way to Highway 37, which turns out to be one of the best roads we seen. It winds through the pines and deep wilderness with a lot of turns and twistys. It's not long before we come across a bear sighting, a medium sized black bear foraging right along side the shoulder of the road.  I turn around and head back to see if I can get a picture, I stop and fumble for my camera. He has his head down and I can't really see how close I've gotten until he looks up and I realize I'm within twenty yards. It's way too close for his comfort and he runs for the safety of the woods. Several miles later we come across mama bear and three cubs crossing the road. She hurries two cubs across and up a bank to a tree line where they all stop to watch us, one of the cubs is now separated from mama and guess who is in between, yeah the jerk with the camera again, me.  Soon one of the curious cubs heads back down the bank and out onto a rock to get a better view, he is a little to close for our comfort, a mother with cubs is nothing to mess with. Over the next thirty miles we see 3 more bears, and a full grown coyote, it has been one of or best wild life days. The road winds down in to a valley surrounded by snow caps and ice fields. We pass literally hundreds of lakes, streams and rivers, but not one fisherman. It is fisherman heaven, but no one is taking advantage of it. The road-side stops and camp grounds are empty.

  As we leave the valley we start to enter civilization. The towns are now just 20 to 30 miles apart, and the roads have painted lines once again. We check out a few of the smaller towns and decide to head in to Prince George for the night. It's by far a bigger town than anything we've come across in a while and should have some good choices for motels and restaurants. We decide on a very new looking Super 8 right in town. We are no sooner off our bikes when I'm approached by a panhandler looking for money. I refuse him and he goes his way and the matter is forgotten. We have a very nice night in town finding an upscale Italian restaurant which is empty. The food was outstanding, We turn in for the night expecting an easy day tomorrow on our ride to Seattle.

Day 13

Bellingham, Washington

5,216 miles

August 5

We get up late and take our time about breakfast and checking out. As I head to the bikes to pack up something doesn't look right. I find cut bungee cords on the ground and soon notice that my rear luggage rack bag is gone, so is Dick's nice leather tank type bag which contained maps, old sneakers and poo-poo undies. I lost only my spare gas tank, we remembered the panhandler from our arrival at the motel. We had no proof, of course, and we refuse the lady at the desk offer to call the police. That would be a waste of everyone's time. We chalk it up to "welcome back to civilization" and head for the states.

We bid Prince George farewell and head south towards Frazer Canyon. The road through the canyon is remarkable. It winds down to the valley floor for at least a hundred miles and offers great views of the river and canyon walls on both sides. The weather has now turned warm and continues to heat up the further down the canyon we get. We are soon in tee shirts and half helmets for the first time in almost two weeks. We cross the border for the final time and head toward Bellingham, our stop for the night, our last night of the trip. We could head for Seattle but that would be to final. One more night on the road with the bikes is in order. 

Day 14

The End Of The Road

5,403 miles

August 6

We are up late for the short ride to Seattle. It's mostly interstate travel and it's hard to take all the traffic after the past two weeks. We are in Seattle by early afternoon and check into to a predetermined motel at the Sea-Tac airport. Adam meets us a few hours later with our trailer in tow. The other riders straggle in and we begin the sad duty of trailer-ing the bikes for their return home. We have one more night and we enjoy it at dinner sharing tales of the road. I wish I could have recorded the conversation that night. 

Well that's it, an incredible journey repeated by thousands of motorcyclists every summer in the wilds of western Canada and Alaska. We hope you enjoyed reading about our trip. If we can be of any help in planning your trip to Alaska or anywhere else in the States, (we've done them all) give us a call or e-mail me.

Bob