We ended up getting a late start. In fact, it felt pretty awkward getting the bikes packed up in the morning. We had been at this already for a whole week and here I stood in front of the bike disorganized, wishing I was back in bed. It felt like Day 1, that seemingly random morning at home getting ready for a month long journey, and all of a sudden I had to relearn everything I knew about packing the bike. Not much had changed but things felt different amid all of the chaos.
While packing the bikes up we talked to an older couple, who were in Anchorage as part of a cruise ship tour of Alaska. They were amazed that Eddie and I had ridden all the way up from Georgia. After telling them that Tiffany had flown up to Anchorage instead of riding up, they immediately commented that she was "the smarter one in the group". A comment Eddie and I would hear throughout our time in Alaska, but one probably true after all.
After chatting a little we learned they were actually from Atlanta too. It was surprising but oddly this was not the first person we met from Atlanta, the coincidence was starting to run thin and we, Eddie and I, began to think if this could even be considered a coincidence anymore. We began to suspect that either Atlanta is a more common city than it would seem to us, or nobody from Atlanta likes staying there on their time off. They were very nice to talk with but after some time his wife had to pull him away, I think the thought of riding Alaska on a motorcycle was tempting him. You could see it in his eyes. They wished us luck on our journey, and we wished them the same on theirs. Another single-serving friend has been met.
The first stop for the day was to the local REI just down the street. We hadn't gotten any bear spray yet and had talked with a few people in Yukon and Alaska to get a feel for whether we needed it or not. The general consensus was it would be a smart idea to have it, even if we were planning to camp in relatively populated areas. It seemed like relatively cheap insurance in the event we pissed off any nearby brown bears.
I had to laugh at the guys next to us while we were packing our bikes at the hotel, who were also talking as all I heard from their conversation was "Does bear spray expire? This stuff is ten years old." to which his buddy replied "I dunno, I guess we'll find out!" I hope they never found out and made it back from wherever they were staying.
A quick trip to REI later and we had our bear spray, but not without a comment from the lady behind the counter who made fun of Eddie's and my matching hi-vis jackets. It does seem appropriate for two people on the same path to look the same. After REI, we all grabbed a bite at the nearby Subway for some sandwiches before heading out towards Fairbanks.
The weather had looked a bit rough heading out. We had bundled up a bit but without our rain gear on, a risky idea in an Alaska summer it seemed. Despite it being dark ahead, it mostly looked overcast and we decided that comfort was worth the risk. No longer were we in a bustling town in the lower-48 and pulling over to change into rain gear would not be too difficult up here.
Things stayed pretty uneventful heading out of Anchorage, through Wasilla, and up Hwy 3 towards Talkeetna. The road up was not terribly impressive, which is a shame because I knew we were in the vicinity to some nice mountains in the area. Even though we faced some pretty dark clouds ahead and the roads we were on never stayed dry, the rain held up. However, it did get really chilly after we left Anchorage and I had left my heated gear unplugged, which I regretted.
After gassing up close to Talkeetna, we decided to put on the rain gear before continuing on, honestly I was pretty surprised we stayed dry up to this point since the clouds looked like they would unleash rain on us at any given moment for the past hour. I didn't want to push our luck much further.
The ride from Talkeetna to Cantwell was pretty nasty. We started getting rained on and the construction had slowed us down a great bit. We had come to a complete stop behind a long line of cars. I could tell Tiff was wondering what was up, but Eddie and I knew the deal and got off the bike to wait it out. In the distance we could see the flagger for the construction zone and I just hoped it was not going to be too rough and obnoxious.
Eventually, the line of oncoming cars came through, a good sign as we knew we'd be heading on our way through the construction soon and will continue on towards Fairbanks. But things weren't looking good once I checked out the cars as they drove past, all looked pretty nasty and covered in fine layer of dirt and mud. So it looks like we were in for a treat. I told Tiff to be careful and just hoped it wasn't too slick.
Here they come:
We kept a decent distance from the car ahead to keep the visibility good and overall it wasn't too bad, a bit sloppy but it was packed pretty hard and wasn't too bad to ride on as long as you could avoid the potholes in the dirt.
After about half a mile into some of the rougher/bumpier parts of the construction, I saw Tiff was a bit far behind. I slowed down thinking she was just taking her time and being careful, but Eddie soon came up and told me to stop. Something was wrong. I could still see Tiff pulling up so fortunately she was still on two and moving. But as she got closer I saw the problem: her topcase was hanging on by nearly nothing.
We had to make a quick repair on the muddy road. We were a bit rushed as we tried to beat the pilot truck which was now long gone. While we quickly got some lashing straps and bungee nets to hold down the case, I saw the end of the line of cars pass us by and we were now alone.
I could see the problem pretty clearly and I wasn't sure if we would be able to get it properly fixed on the road. Tiff had made sure there was a top case included on her rental, but when we had picked it up yesterday there was none. MotoQuest had offered a soft tailbag but having assumed there would be locking hard case they had to make something work. Unfortunately for us the BMW had a perfectly good top case rack but the case it went with was already loaned out to another bike. So they had quickly mocked something up to get another brand's case mounted onto the bike and the bolts they used had already broken through. Sadly we hadn't even made it onto the Dalton Hwy yet where things would really get interesting, but I'd rather be dealing with this now than up there in the wilderness.
After getting everything cinched down we got back on our way. It wasn't the prettiest fix but it was solid and wasn't going anywhere. We thought we would be able to catch back up with the line but a few turns in and we saw the pilot truck heading back our way. The lady driving the truck was a bit confused to see us and initially gave us a bit of a hard time, as I think she assumed we had sped past the flagger behind us and tried to sneak through the construction solo. But after Tiff told her that she was in the line from before but had bike problems, the driver was sympathetic to our issue and said we could carefully continue on past the oncoming line of cars. We were pleased to see everyone move aside so that we could creep by in the other direction, so we wouldn't have to ride through the loose gravel which had become much tougher to ride through.
We eventually made it out of the construction and back onto formal pavement. I was excited to see the Denali area but the weather had other plans. The visibility was pretty bad and it wasn't even possible to see any of the mountains we were riding by. I kept going back and forth thinking which one we were riding by would be Denali (Mt McKinley) but it was too difficult to tell much of anything, which was a bit disheartening.
We were somewhere around Denali, we just couldn't see where:
Mountains loom domineering behind the weather, while we dealt with the cold winds during our short break:
Bikes were looking a bit rough:
We had a little fun with each other, taking each others picture of us taking pictures:
We gassed up in Cantwell at another relatively busy station. The weather had gotten a bit worse as it had been in a full rain for the past half-hour. We made sure we topped off the gas tanks as we had over 150 miles before getting into our last stop in Fairbanks. I talked with some guys hanging around a RV by the pumps who were asking where we were from. We chatted about our trip and after telling them of our plans to get up the Dalton one of the younger guys, probably in his early 20's, seemed to get a bit serious.
"You know what you're in for up there?" he asked.
I said I did, although obviously this was a lie.
In fact... I had no idea what I was getting into. Part of what has gotten me up here was me being obtuse to the whole thing. I had just known that others had made it up to Prudhoe Bay on street tires, so it had already been proven that it could be done.
He continued, "If it rains up there, like it is here now, you'll be fucked. Not 'kinda' fucked, but 'proper' fucked."
This did not comfort me.
I knew what he meant, and he had a point.
We continued to talk a bit and I had asked them where they were coming from, as their RV was covered in a bit of mud and looked to be in rough shape. They had just come through the Denali Hwy and nearly beaten the rain. We also planned to ride through this road after making it back from the Dalton, so I inquired about what they saw and what they thought of the road.
After paying for our gas and starting to gear up, we caught the eye of a pair of motorcycles as they pulled up to the gas station. A KTM 990ADV and a BMW F650GS, who were also heading north towards Fairbanks. The guy on the KTM came over and asked which way we were heading.
"Fairbanks tonight, then up the Dalton," I said.
"On those tires?" he asked, "you know that road can get pretty sketchy when it rains like this?" He said it with a raised eyebrow that I couldn't quite figure if it was a warning or simply encouragement.
But maybe these guys know something I don't. I'll soon find out, I guess.
He said he and his wife are heading up that way too, and maybe we'll catch up with them tomorrow. It was nice to see some fellow motorcyclists on our same schedule, and we let them know we'd keep an eye out for them. A quick wave later, and we were off towards Fairbanks again. Little did we know how much this encounter would impact our trip to Alaska.
I couldn't help but think about all those I've met so far that have talked about getting to Deadhorse on street tires. So far nobody has said it can't be done, which is good. But nothing has been said that has been encouraging either.
More construction:
Eventually, we made our way out of the weather and the construction:
I followed Tiff as the road wound through the mountains. We kept the pace towards Fairbanks with the weather and the roads not improving. At one point, Tiff slowed down, then sped back up. A few turns later she slowed down completely and stopped on the side of the road. She was clearly upset about something. It's always easy to tell the emotions of a motorcycle rider.
"It's out of gas!" I heard her yell.
WTF! We had only gone 100 miles! No way her tank ran out this early.
Not only is this bad now, but it makes heading up the Dalton Hwy questionable now since we've got to make it almost 250 miles between gas stops up there, and she only had a 2 gallon gas can for extra fuel. Of course we hadn't filled it yet since we figured Fairbanks was an easy ride up without worrying about fuel.
I tried to calm her down but clearly this was pretty upsetting. She said the fuel light was on about ten miles back but thought it was wrong. I guess the nozzle at the last gas station had stopped early but we weren't sure. Whatever it was, it didn't matter now, as we were 40 miles away from Fairbanks and maybe 30 miles from the nearest gas.
We decided I would continue on and search for gas, while Tiff and Eddie stayed behind and waited it out. Before I left I told Tiff that if anyone came by and offered gas, to take it and continue on and I would meet them on my way back. It was a comment influenced by what I remember when we met the husband and wife on the KTM and BMW. He had a 5-gallon gas can strapped to the back of his bike and I knew he was heading our way soon. So maybe we would luck out and he would be a bit sympathetic to our situation.
I pulled off and continued north. Against my better judgement (or maybe I just listened to the wrong voices in my head) I kept the pace pretty quick towards Fairbanks while in search of a gas station. I had no idea how far I'd have to go but considered the worst. Despite the fact that it had stopped raining, it was still pretty tough since the fog had come in so I had to ride through some twisty roads with somewhat limited visibility. The road would have been pretty fun in better circumstances, but I was on a mission. Knowing Tiff and Eddie were on the side of the road with no phone reception certainly encouraged an aggressive pace I had given in to.
I passed by a few buildings, unmarked roads, and driveways but didn't really think trying them would be too useful. Possibly someone has some spare gas but it would just be awkward. I kept at it but ended up going over twenty miles before catching a liquor store with a Tesoro gas station attached. I topped off my tank (so I could make the return trip back to Tiff myself) and filled one of my cans with gas for Tiff to use.
(Tiff's comments: Meanwhile, as Eddie and I were waiting on the side of the road we make small talk about my bike and why we think it ran out of gas. We conclude that I didn't top off the bike enough and therefore I didn't get the maximum mileage of the bike. Hard lesson learned, but I'm glad I figured it out early. We hear the distant sound of a motorcycle engine and realized it's not Blake returning as it's coming from the opposite direction. We patiently wait to see the bike or bikes that are coming upon us. We see the KTM and the BMW from the gas station getting closer and notice that they are slowing down and pulling of the road to where we are.
They park their bikes and turn them off, pull off their helmets, and come and chat with us. The man introduces himself as Ian and introduces his wife, Kristina. He said that he has a 5 gallon container of gas on the back of his bike that I can use. He said it's "road karma" as he ran out of gas earlier and someone stopped and gave him some spare gas, so he needed to do the same.
And just as quick as I got there, I turned around and headed back. About ten miles in I see some headlights heading my way and I think it must be Tiff and Eddie. As they got closer I don't quite recognize the headlights, but realized they are our buddies that we met earlier at the gas stop in Cantwell, on the BMW and KTM. The guy on the KTM gives a big wave, points to the gas can on the back of his bike, then a thumbs up. I was relieved! I give him a thumbs up back and thanked him inside my helmet. I slowed the pace down and in another five minutes I see Tiff and Eddie heading my way. I turn around and continue back north again as my heart rate goes back to normal.
We take some time to relax at the gas station I was just at. Tiffany looks completely frustrated and spent. Even after topping off again her gauge isn't showing completely full. On top of the gas fiasco, she says her heated gloves have been giving her fits since the Cantwell stop and getting way too hot. She tried leaving them off but it was just getting too cold without at least heated gloves, and I had to agree with her with the temperatures dropping a good bit once we had gotten into the mountainous areas. She pulled her gloves off and her hands were beet red. We asked if she was okay and she responded "yeah" with an air of hesitation and malaise.
After taking a few minutes to check out the GPS so we could find the hostel, we plug in the address, gear back up, and get into Fairbanks which was just a quick ride at this point. The hostel was pretty easy to find, we get the bikes parked and prepare for getting the bikes unpacked and into the hostel, which I wasn't looking forward to. Unlike last time, everything was a bit wet and pretty muddy after all the construction we rode through so I felt a little bad for the hostel owners, but they didn't seem to mind and welcomed us to put our wet gear wherever would could fine space.
I finish getting the last of my luggage off my bike. As I'm collecting the last of it, I notice an older lady slowly walk by the driveway, with a watchful eye on what I'm doing. She's probably around 65 or so. I saw her come from the house next door a few minutes earlier. She stops just past the bikes. I feel compelled to break the silence between the two of us.
"Hello", I said, with a wave and a smile.
Her face lit up, in a way that warmed me as if she was an old friend who hadn't seen me in too long. She responded with a quick "Hi" herself and approached me closer. She asks where we were from and why we've chosen to ride all the way up to Alaska.
I reply, "It seemed like the right place to go. The weather up here is beautiful, I couldn't ask for any other place I'd rather be right now".
She smiled.
We chatted for a long while. Her husband had retired from the Air Force and they had stayed up here ever since. She spoke about the weather, and especially the winters in Fairbanks. She even spoke about the neighbors and the fact that one was an old Hells Angel member that nobody messed with. "But he's a really nice fellow" she said with a smile!
The more we talked the more I realized that she just wanted someone to talk to and enjoyed every minute of it. I was more than happy to oblige as it was great to see Alaska from the view of someone who lives here. She was very interested in hearing about our trip so I suspect the feelings were mutual. After talking with each other we realized we had both lived in Ramstein Germany which helped clarify her accent.
We get the bikes unloaded and help each other find places for everything, which was easier said than done. Tiff complained about her gloves again and soon realized her hands were pretty burnt. They were a bit red now and you could make out the beginnings of some good blisters on her knuckles. None of us thought it was that bad earlier but clearly we were wrong. No way her heated gear was getting that hot so something must be wrong.
The bikes are unloaded and we take a look at her setup and try to figure out what's going on. Her gear works fine on my bike and Eddie has Tiffany check her gear with his spare controller which also works. We can only figure that the problem is in the bike's adapter or in her Heat-Troller. We knew we didn't have much time so Tiff planned to use Eddie's backup controller. She would need something to get her through the North Slope on the Dalton Hwy.
We got back inside, admittedly pretty beat. Not to mention hungry. But by now it was past 10pm, despite how bright it still was outside, and there was no way we were getting back on the bikes. We settled on delivery pizza but sadly nobody was still delivering. We were shit out of luck. Tiff took this as a sign and said she wasn't that hungry, and went to bed. She had been keeping ice on her hands and I think she had about as much of the day as she could handle.
Eddie and I were not left with many options for food, so we relied on our supplies and cooked some ramen. It seemed to be our fallback meal and, regardless of how bland it is, seemed to hit the spot pretty well. I was interrupted throughout my meal by a young kid who stayed at the hostel. He is working on his Masters in Statistical Analysis at the University of Alaska Fairbanks but seemed mostly occupied with his change of plans to get to Barrow Alaska in the upcoming weeks. He told me his reason for trying to get up there but his attention couldn't handle more than a minute without changing directions, and I found it hard to get information from him before the subject changed.
I hoped tomorrow would be a better day. The weather didn't hold out for us today and I couldn't imagine a dirt/gravel road in weather we saw today. I got into my bunk and wrote in my journal by the light of my cell phone. Tiff had already passed out. Everything was quiet except for some conversations outside the room from my friend discussing his plans with someone else at the hostel.
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