It all started here on this thread http://www.ukgser.com/forums/showthread.php?s=&threadid=42359 after I was served that most cold yet common of City foods i.e. the chop! Fifteen years in the City, the last five at Goldman Sachs, came to an abrupt end although I think of it more as having pulled onto the hard shoulder rather than hitting the buffers.
People spend 95% of their lives worrying about the career, what their boss thinks of them, what are they getting paid, their family, and all the other baggage of modern life. The other 5% is the "what if" and it rarely gets realised. As the Honda advert says, what's the point of having dreams if you aren't going to realise them? So on the basis that life is an adventure, I twisted the throttle and headed for a three trip across Alaska with Phil Freeman of Alaska Rider Tours http://www.akrider.com/index.html
I arrived on June 16th in Anchorage via Chicago. The first shock is of course that it doesn't get dark. Wandering around in sunshine at midnight is a new experience so ensure you take an eye mask if you intend to sleep. The next day I walked down to meet Phil Freeman, his business is on Spenard Road, only a few miles from the airport. I hired a Kawasaki KLR650 for a few days before the main trip and headed south on Highway1. This photo was taken 40 miles south of Anchorage at Beluga Point, named as you can see Beluga whales chasing salmon as the tide returns:
A few days later, Phil, his mechanic Rob Glenney(who I'd hire if I was planning to ride around the world, he saved the day on numerous occasions!) and I left Anchorage in the support van towing the bikes towards Fairbanks where we would meet the rest of the group. We stopped along the way to stock up on beer, fuel etc. I was officially christened as a "G.I.T" ie a "Guide in Training" and taught in the ways of the Force ie "GS" or "Guide Shit." This is an invaluable part of being a guide as a guide ALWAYS needs to have an answer. For example, a traveller asks you what that large tree is over there. A proficient guide would firstly assume a direction, secondly a colour and finally an object. "A yes, that is a Northern White Spruce don't you know." It worked every time.
We left Fairbanks on the morning of Monday June 20th. From left to right: Phil the guide, Paul from Canada, Fred from NY, Dee from Washington, myself, Bill from NY and Tom from San Diego. Fred and Bills wives also took the trip with Rob in the support van. They were to prove invaluable as we progressed:
We stopped a few miles past Fairbanks to see the Trans-Alaskan pipe line which runs from Prudhoe Bay in the north, our destination, to Valdez in the south. It's an awesome sight and a great example of engineering and persistence in Alaskas hostile environment:
We take the Steese Highway towards Central and after 30miles we finally hit the dirt. The bikes are perfect for the conditions and in no time we're hitting mountain trails and as many stream crossings as we can find. My new Sidi Courier motocross boots snap a strap on one river crossing, far from amusing. Thankfully due to the wonders of Duck Tape, Rob saves the day and I begin to develop that "I've been Alaska-ised look." A few days later the strap on the other boot would also snap.
We plan to spend two day staying in Central. On our first night it is the Summer Solstice and we're invited to join in the local game of "4-wheel drive bowling," with sports like this the US is bound to win the next Olympics:
Having doubled the locals income by some heavy investing at the bar, we hit the sack. The next day we ride 30miles up to the end of the road at Circle on the banks of the Yukon. It's the first truly rough road and the back wheels are spinning in deep sand and gravel. Its a blast and we all feel that we're on stage one of the Dakar rally:
And no they didn't have Starbucks.
Paul and I took off on our own after lunch and found a gold prospector. Once fuelled by our donation of a six pack, he invited the whole group to visit. There's gold in them hills:
His biggest pay day was 10yrs ago when he found $170,000 worth of gold.
This is what it's all about - no Gatso's, no traffic lights, no traffic, no congestion charging:
A few miles from Central was Circle Hot Springs. Similar to a Japanese onsen except it was falling apart and the owner was nuts. It had been closed for 3yrs but as the watchman was Irish (of course he was), I gave him a bit of the Blarney (and another six pack, Alaska's favourite currency) and he let the group use the spring. It was similar to bathing in pea green soup. The place is for sale on eBay, the current bid is $84 versus the $6mn the owner wants. Cuckoo!
On Wednesday 22nd June we leave Central and head back on the Steese Highway. It is very cold and wet:
Turning north on the Dalton Highway we head towards our next stop at the Yukon River:
On the way we bump into the first of our fellow GSer's on a 1200GS. Art has ridden 10,000 miles from Atlanta on the east coast of the US on this trip. It makes me feel inadequate as my own GS has a mere 7,500 miles from 2yrs of riding. This will have to change. Art's bike has been faultless although I believe a pannier fell off while he was riding and he didn't notice. It was a few hundred miles round trip for him to recover them:
We reach the "hotel" at Yukon River and Neena and Bobbi, the travelling wives, have arranged an impromtu cocktail party in the car park. Grey Goose vodka, VSOP cognac, stuffed olives and nibbles flow with a laugh about the journey so far:
On Thursday June 23rd we reach the Arctic Circle. To be honest it's a bit of a disappointment, no polar bears or penguins at all:
We head north on the Dalton towards that nights stop at Coldfoot. Forest fires are everywhere. Caused by lightening strikes, last year they consumed over six million acres. It's a frightening sight:
Well you have to take a photo when somewhere is called this:
The two main hazards on the road are huge 18wheel lorries flying down the dirt road at 70mph kicking up rocks and sand, and wildlife. We had moose run straight across our paths on several occassions. The best advice is two fold. One, always aim for its arse as that is its softest part, and two, have you ever seen a moose walk backwards?:
We reach Coldfoot, 240 miles from Prudhoe Bay and the last fuel stop:
The sky is a mass of greys and pinks as fires burn all around.
The next day we head for the Atigun Pass at the end of the Brooks Range before hitting the tundra:
We stop 90 miles from our destination to recover a bike left a stranded biker from LA. He's since gone but left the bike with a huge hole in the radiator. He's also left a key medication in his panniers, one which all long distance bikers will appreciate, "Anti-Monkey Butt Powder":
Two hours later we reach Prudhoe Bay on Friday June 24th. The final ride has been bitter and only the thought of a large Bushmills Irish Whiskey has kept us all going. Imagine our shock when we discover that Prudhoe Bay is dry and that coffee is our strongest alternative:
Would you believe that it's midnight in the photo below?????:
Five days and 970 miles later, you couldn't remove the smile from our faces with plastic surgery.
**** PART TWO OF THE TRIP FOLLOWS ****
People spend 95% of their lives worrying about the career, what their boss thinks of them, what are they getting paid, their family, and all the other baggage of modern life. The other 5% is the "what if" and it rarely gets realised. As the Honda advert says, what's the point of having dreams if you aren't going to realise them? So on the basis that life is an adventure, I twisted the throttle and headed for a three trip across Alaska with Phil Freeman of Alaska Rider Tours http://www.akrider.com/index.html
I arrived on June 16th in Anchorage via Chicago. The first shock is of course that it doesn't get dark. Wandering around in sunshine at midnight is a new experience so ensure you take an eye mask if you intend to sleep. The next day I walked down to meet Phil Freeman, his business is on Spenard Road, only a few miles from the airport. I hired a Kawasaki KLR650 for a few days before the main trip and headed south on Highway1. This photo was taken 40 miles south of Anchorage at Beluga Point, named as you can see Beluga whales chasing salmon as the tide returns:
A few days later, Phil, his mechanic Rob Glenney(who I'd hire if I was planning to ride around the world, he saved the day on numerous occasions!) and I left Anchorage in the support van towing the bikes towards Fairbanks where we would meet the rest of the group. We stopped along the way to stock up on beer, fuel etc. I was officially christened as a "G.I.T" ie a "Guide in Training" and taught in the ways of the Force ie "GS" or "Guide Shit." This is an invaluable part of being a guide as a guide ALWAYS needs to have an answer. For example, a traveller asks you what that large tree is over there. A proficient guide would firstly assume a direction, secondly a colour and finally an object. "A yes, that is a Northern White Spruce don't you know." It worked every time.
We left Fairbanks on the morning of Monday June 20th. From left to right: Phil the guide, Paul from Canada, Fred from NY, Dee from Washington, myself, Bill from NY and Tom from San Diego. Fred and Bills wives also took the trip with Rob in the support van. They were to prove invaluable as we progressed:
We stopped a few miles past Fairbanks to see the Trans-Alaskan pipe line which runs from Prudhoe Bay in the north, our destination, to Valdez in the south. It's an awesome sight and a great example of engineering and persistence in Alaskas hostile environment:
We take the Steese Highway towards Central and after 30miles we finally hit the dirt. The bikes are perfect for the conditions and in no time we're hitting mountain trails and as many stream crossings as we can find. My new Sidi Courier motocross boots snap a strap on one river crossing, far from amusing. Thankfully due to the wonders of Duck Tape, Rob saves the day and I begin to develop that "I've been Alaska-ised look." A few days later the strap on the other boot would also snap.
We plan to spend two day staying in Central. On our first night it is the Summer Solstice and we're invited to join in the local game of "4-wheel drive bowling," with sports like this the US is bound to win the next Olympics:
Having doubled the locals income by some heavy investing at the bar, we hit the sack. The next day we ride 30miles up to the end of the road at Circle on the banks of the Yukon. It's the first truly rough road and the back wheels are spinning in deep sand and gravel. Its a blast and we all feel that we're on stage one of the Dakar rally:
And no they didn't have Starbucks.
Paul and I took off on our own after lunch and found a gold prospector. Once fuelled by our donation of a six pack, he invited the whole group to visit. There's gold in them hills:
His biggest pay day was 10yrs ago when he found $170,000 worth of gold.
This is what it's all about - no Gatso's, no traffic lights, no traffic, no congestion charging:
A few miles from Central was Circle Hot Springs. Similar to a Japanese onsen except it was falling apart and the owner was nuts. It had been closed for 3yrs but as the watchman was Irish (of course he was), I gave him a bit of the Blarney (and another six pack, Alaska's favourite currency) and he let the group use the spring. It was similar to bathing in pea green soup. The place is for sale on eBay, the current bid is $84 versus the $6mn the owner wants. Cuckoo!
On Wednesday 22nd June we leave Central and head back on the Steese Highway. It is very cold and wet:
Turning north on the Dalton Highway we head towards our next stop at the Yukon River:
On the way we bump into the first of our fellow GSer's on a 1200GS. Art has ridden 10,000 miles from Atlanta on the east coast of the US on this trip. It makes me feel inadequate as my own GS has a mere 7,500 miles from 2yrs of riding. This will have to change. Art's bike has been faultless although I believe a pannier fell off while he was riding and he didn't notice. It was a few hundred miles round trip for him to recover them:
We reach the "hotel" at Yukon River and Neena and Bobbi, the travelling wives, have arranged an impromtu cocktail party in the car park. Grey Goose vodka, VSOP cognac, stuffed olives and nibbles flow with a laugh about the journey so far:
On Thursday June 23rd we reach the Arctic Circle. To be honest it's a bit of a disappointment, no polar bears or penguins at all:
We head north on the Dalton towards that nights stop at Coldfoot. Forest fires are everywhere. Caused by lightening strikes, last year they consumed over six million acres. It's a frightening sight:
Well you have to take a photo when somewhere is called this:
The two main hazards on the road are huge 18wheel lorries flying down the dirt road at 70mph kicking up rocks and sand, and wildlife. We had moose run straight across our paths on several occassions. The best advice is two fold. One, always aim for its arse as that is its softest part, and two, have you ever seen a moose walk backwards?:
We reach Coldfoot, 240 miles from Prudhoe Bay and the last fuel stop:
The sky is a mass of greys and pinks as fires burn all around.
The next day we head for the Atigun Pass at the end of the Brooks Range before hitting the tundra:
We stop 90 miles from our destination to recover a bike left a stranded biker from LA. He's since gone but left the bike with a huge hole in the radiator. He's also left a key medication in his panniers, one which all long distance bikers will appreciate, "Anti-Monkey Butt Powder":
Two hours later we reach Prudhoe Bay on Friday June 24th. The final ride has been bitter and only the thought of a large Bushmills Irish Whiskey has kept us all going. Imagine our shock when we discover that Prudhoe Bay is dry and that coffee is our strongest alternative:
Would you believe that it's midnight in the photo below?????:
Five days and 970 miles later, you couldn't remove the smile from our faces with plastic surgery.
**** PART TWO OF THE TRIP FOLLOWS ****
.
