Leaving on the Midnight Plane

Well, 12:35 AM to be exact. I am sitting in Anchorage International Airport waiting for my flight out. Of course, it is 09:30 PM so I have a while. The main thing is things are rolling and I should be home Friday morning.

I picked up the bike around 1:00, road it, (slowly), to the Allied Van Lines depot, walked back to the bike shop, picked up my rental truck and turned it in. That about sums the day up.

I treated myself to a fine wild king salmon bake and another Alaskan Summer Ale before browsing some more local craft and tourist shops. Downtown Anchorage is really geared for out-of-towners. While all my pictures have been of downtown, Anchorage is a large city just like any other you find in the lower forty-eight.

Looking out the window of the Gate C4 waiting room I can see a fantastic sunset over the harbor and if I look out the window behind me I see the mountains shrouded in clouds. It is quite beautiful. There has never been any doubt about that. Perhaps I can use this whole experience to teach me to take some time and enjoy the journey instead of plowing strait to the destination. Maybe?

There are very few pictures from today but you are welcome to enjoy them.

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What is an ECU and why should I care?

An Electronic Control Unit is the computer that makes modern machinery run. Without it our fancy cars, trucks, and motorcycles stop running. The ECU is what stopped my motorcycle dead. So says the service technician at Anchorage Motorsports. That and it may take a week or two to get a new one. Time to adapt.

This morning, I secured shipping for my bike back to California through Federal Transport, the company endorsed by the American Motorcycle Association. I also booked airfare back to John Wayne for Friday morning so I should be sleeping in my own bed Friday night. Don't worry; I will wash the sheets first.

Am I giving up? Sure, what do I care? I successfully road the length of the Alaska Highway and then some. I won't be making the return trip but I have already seen that route and have no desire to repeat it. It would have been nice to ride the ferry back but the schedule was difficult and almost as expensive as shipping the bike back. It is an inglorious end to an endeavor that was probably insane to begin with. At least, that is what everyone has been saying.

Considering I've only seen B.M.Ws, Harlies, and KLRs the whole trip, maybe taking the Multistrada was not the best idea. But you know, I tried and I tried in style. Truthfully, the Multistrada is wasted up here with the slow speed limits and the endless miles of highway. When I road up the Kootenay Rockies in British Columbia, there were miles of highway but there was the reward of fantastic curving roads like scenic rout 31A and marvelous places to stay like the Windsor Hotel in Trout Lake and fantastic food like at Café Kas in Nelson. This trip has simply been a right wrist-numbing drudge with more stress than I care to admit to.

From the moment I chose to take this trip, I've been driven for reasons I cannot seem to elucidate. Failure was probably inevitable simply for the fact that I was expecting it at any moment. What ever. Enough of the existential crap.

I spent the evening walking through downtown Anchorage and started to enjoy myself. I had a fantastic King Crab dinner and tasted some local brew. Downtown is geared toward the tourist with many native craft shops, tour agencies, a large bus station, and an FBI office. I guess when you are the FBI, you want to be downtown where the action is.

The Port of Anchorage is near and you can see huge container ships entering the harbor. There is a three-story height change in the tide here so you can actually see the water coming in over the mud flats.

It is interesting to watch the tourist and try to guess why they are here. The sportsmen are usually easy to spot. The hunters are carrying sent block camo and the fishermen are wearing Columbia fishing shirts. There are a lot of young couples dressed in versatile gear that can be converted for any situation. Many of the tourists, though, are older folk. Many seem to be German or Dutch or Chinese or Japanese. Maybe it is the time of the year but I have heard a lot of German spoken along the way.

Now for the popular part of the tour: Photos.

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This is a Test

So you want adventure? You want to see what you are made of? You want to test your limits?

Hell with that, I'm on vacation damn it!

Well it was bound to happen sometime, and it certainly could have happened at a worse place. I made the end of the Alaska Highway when I arrived in Delta Junction, Alaska. That is the official end of the Alaska Highway. I could have done a several things. Go on to Fairbanks, go south to Anchorage, or head back the way I came and only see a small part of Alaska.

I continued on and arrived in Fairbanks Friday afternoon. Since it was early, I headed up into the hills to look around. I saw the Alaska Pipeline and took photos along with three busloads of other tourists. It started to rain heavily so I headed back to the city center to find out about lodging. I wanted something outside of town and secluded.

On the way back into town, my motorcycle lost power. I figured some of the wires got wet because it was raining and I was behind some cars that were throwing up a fine mist. The power came back after a few miles so I hoped for the best and continued. At the Fairbanks Visitor Center, I found a B & B that had a cabin available and secured it for the night.

On the way to the 3 Bears Bed and Breakfast, the bike sputtered and backfired a few times and the check engine light came on. Still hoping is was the moisture and not having any way of fixing the problem, I had a furtive night's sleep. After breakfast in the morning, the bike still did not run correctly and I determined the front cylinder was not firing because the header pipe was not hot.

I slowly made my way to town to pick up some cleaner and paper towels to see if I could clean the bike up and determine if there was any water where it should not be. Unfortunately, I could find no obvious problem except there was no spark getting to the cylinder.

Barbara and Sean Young are the owners and proprietors of the 3 Bears Bed and Breakfast, and Sean also has the Denali Towing service. I must commend Barbara and Sean for all their help and encouragement while I had my motorcycle torn apart in the driveway. On Saturday, Barbara drove me into town to pick up some food and on Sunday, Sean took me on the grand tour of Fairbanks while trying to secure transportation. If you are ever in Fairbanks during the summer, I highly recommend giving them your patronage.

Now, owning a Ducati is a special thing. There is something about the sound and how they handle and how they draw positive attention. Of course, Ducati is also special in that not just anyone can work on them. They are computerized, like many vehicles now, so you must take them to a shop that has the appropriate equipment to analyze and fix them. Thus the crisis; the only place that can fix my Multistrada is in Anchorage and here I am in Fairbanks, 360 miles away. I tried to rent a pickup truck but none of the big car rental agencies would let me take a truck to Anchorage as a one-way deal. I wound up renting a 10-foot box van from U-Haul, which, while not optimal, worked out well.

I spent Monday driving down Highway 3, past Denali, to Anchorage. It was amazing country but unfortunately it was a little lost on me since I was on a mission. All weekend, I was very stressed trying to fix the bike myself and then trying to secure transportation. Once I started heading south, I started feeling more confident since I was making a positive step toward solving my crisis.

Of course, I'm not out of the woods yet. I am in Anchorage, a few blocks from the Ducati dealer waiting for them to open in the morning. I am assuming that the front ignition coil is bad but I am not certain. These are computer-controlled machines after all and Alaska being Alaska, who knows if parts will be available.

Not to mention, I am still over 3,000 miles from home and have some hellatious highway to traverse. Thus a plan… Alaska has a tremendous ferry system that covers much of the coast and can be used to go all the way to Washington. I intend to check with the ferry schedule to see if I can work out a way to bypass Canada and follow the coast down to the lower 48. I have a booklet of the ferry schedules but it is incomprehensible so I will call the agency directly to see what is available.

Until then?

Click the picture to open a photo album.

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By Popular Demand

Internet connectivity is crappy at best so I have been unable to make regular posts so the important stuff first. Click on the photos below to open an album of that day’s pictures.

I made it to Tok, Alaska, which is way the hell out there. I have about 260 miles to go before I arrive at Fairbanks. The highway from Whitehorse, Yukon Territories, to the Alaska border was the roughest paved road I have ever been on. I am beat so enjoy the photos.

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The Adventure Begins

The adventure truly began today. I left Dawson Creak after taking the obligatory photo of the mile zero marker in the center of town. Of course, the first few hundred yards of the Alaska Highway was under construction so they moved the milepost to an adjacent street. The highway to Fort Nelson was walled in by tall conifers and aspen trees and rained half the time. My wet weather gear is proving to be worth the purchase price.

I always pictured the north as being forested but it is amazing just how vast the forest is. The few times I was up on a ridge, I could see nothing but pine trees from horizon to horizon. Approaching Fort Nelson, I noticed the foothills of the northern Rockies growing closer.

Past Fort Nelson, the Highway 97 turns to the west and right up into the mountains. This narrow, two lane road is precisely what the Multistrada as designed for. It is really wasted on the interstate highway.

More wildlife has started appearing. I saw the biggest buck of my life just off the highway and shortly before reaching Summit Lake, two caribou on the road. I was approaching the summit when an oncoming car started flashing its lights at me. I know from past experience that usually means there is something in the road ahead so I slowed. I managed to find a place to stop and take a few photos.

I finished off the day by stopping at Toad River Lodge, the site of an Alaska Highway work camp. I had dinner with a group of Harley riders from Yakima, Washington. I first met them when I stopped at Sasquatch Crossing for lunch, where they asked me to take a group photo of them with the owner of the hotel who was dressed in a big foot costume. One of the couples had to purchase a used bike in Prince George when their engine blew due to a lack of oil.

I am planning to reach Whitehorse tomorrow where I will take a day off to do a little exploring and touristy things.

Trip stats:
· 2548.4 miles
· 47:48 total time
· 38:41 moving time
· 09:07 stopped.

Milepost Zero

I finally reached Dawson Creek, BC so now the trip really starts. Dawson Creek is the starting point for the Alaska Highway, the main reason for coming up here. The funny thing is, the Alaska Highway is about 1000 miles shorter than my total mileage so far. The good thing though is I have two weeks to explore it. I am glad for that because the trip to this point has left me thrashed. Too much, too quick.

From here I will take two or three days to get to Whitehorse, the capital of the Yukon Territory, where I plan to spend a day just enjoying the Northern culture.

I think I saw a timber wolf running across the road into a wheat field just above Grand Prairie. I suppose it could have been a large coyote but it would have been the healthiest coyote I've ever seen.

Trip stats:
· 2144.9 miles
· 38:04 total time
· 31:22 moving time
· 06:42 stopped.

Dawson Creek to Fairbanks: 1462 miles

Second Day Blues

What an arduous day. I was only able to make it to High River, Alberta, about 60 km south of Calgary. I started out the day getting my first speeding ticket just north of Pocatello. Its not like I didn't deserve it. I've been tear-assing all around this country for years and up until today I was lucky.

The ride from Butte, Montana along the Missouri was nice but most of the day was just burning miles through the endless prairie east of the Rockies. There was a fire in the mountains casting a haze of smoke throughout the canyon.

I got to the Canadian port of entry around 4:30 PM PST where there were two substantial lines of cars waiting to get in. During the ride through northern Montana, I could see a storm following me off to the left. When I finally got through with the port of entry, the storm had caught up to me. There was a substantial cross wind and lightening strikes close to the highway. Gratefully, my wet weather gear works very well and I had no problem with my helmet fogging up like I did with my old helmet.

After about an hour, I was past the storm and trying to navigate through all the small towns along the way to Calgary. It finally got dark and I had had enough of the road for the day. I should be able to make Dawson Creak by tomorrow even though the speed limits are lower so far than they were in Montana.

No photos yet. I have not stopped long enough anywhere to take any.

Today's stats:
· 1551.1 miles
· 26:38 total time
· 21:40 moving time
· 04:58 stopped.

Going Long

I made it to Pocatello, Idaho. It was a long day, 853 miles worth. I got a little wet, just north of Salt Lake, and saw several accidents between Provo and Salt Lake. One wreck was a bad roll-ever where the car was flattened. The rest was just the long tedium of the main highway. The bike is working well and I am keeping a sharp eye out for the state troopers.

Tomorrow I should be able to make Edmonton, Alberta. Another long day and three cities to ride through but for me the trip doesn't start until I get to mile post zero of the Alaska Highway, in Dawson Creak, British Columbia.

Today's stats:
· 853.6 miles
· 13:54 total time
· 11:25 moving time
· 02:29 stopped.

Scuff Ride

I got the mighty Multistrada back from the shop yesterday so I took it out to scuff-in the new tires. It was also a good opportunity to try out the new Zumo GPS, helmet, and jacket.

I started out early riding up Santiago Canyon to Old Town Orange where I stopped at the Filling Station for breakfast. The Filling Station is a small restaurant that is suffering from over popularity. I should have had breakfast at home.

I wanted to get some mountain roads in so I headed out to San Bernardino to pick up Highway 18. Highway 18 up to the Crestline cutoff is a very fast, four lane wide road that is a great place to move out your chicken lines. Just what I wanted to scuff-in the new tires. Many tires will feel a little squirrelly but the Scorpion Syncs don’t seem to suffer from that. Probably because they have limited traction as it is.

Past the Crestline cutoff, Highway 18 narrows down to two lanes and traffic becomes more intrusive. There are plenty of turnouts but few seem to use them. Locals tend to treat the road as their own, day-trippers either don’t know any difference or they just don’t pay attention to what is behind them. Luckily, most of the traffic turns off to go to Lake Arrowhead or Blue Jay leaving some very fun road heading into Running Springs.

Once in Running Springs, I picked up Highway 330 back down into San Bernardino. It was wide open until the turnoff for Barton Flats, where I fell in line with a freight train of motor homes and trucks towing watercraft.

I do not stop in San Bernardino often so I decided to take the opportunity to visit my parents in Mountain View Cemetery. It was especially appropriate since it was the fourth anniversary of my Mother’s death.

The 210 extension opened a few weeks ago so I decided to try it, much to the confusion of the Zumo GPS, that had no clue there was a freeway there. It kept trying to recalculate my route by piecing together parts of surface streets.

Alaska Trip Countdown

August is finally here and there are 18 days before I leave for Alaska. I have spent the last couple of months acquiring and testing new gear.

My touring jacket and helmet are getting old so I decided to replace both. Choosing my new helmet was fairly easy; I have admired the Dainese Airstream Course for a couple of years now for its fit and light weight. Dainese produces several helmet models but only one full-face model is DOT approved and only three color schemes are available. I wound up purchasing a Titanium Grey helmet from the D-Store simply because that was the only one available. I tried finding one in mat black but that proved impossible. As it turns out, grey became a theme.

Choosing a four-season jacket was much more difficult, especially in the middle of the summer. I dislike making big purchases without first trying the product but I wound up ordering a Rev’It Cayenne sight-unseen. I wanted a Gore-Tex adventure touring jacket and my research revealed several brands that would work but, aside from the BMW Ralley 2 Pro jacket, none of the brands had a presence in the shops. Even the Firstgear Kilimanjaro proved elusive. The BMW Ralley 2 Pro was a great jacket, and slightly better than the Cayenne, but it was quite expensive and had BMW badges plastered all over it.

I ordered a Garmin Zumo 450 gps and Touratech mount for it and expect to receive them next week. The Zumo 450 has all the features of the Zumo 550 except for Bluetooth and XM radio/weather. The XM weather would have been great but I was not interested in subscribing. Of course, the $400 difference was the real decider.

The bike is getting a service this Saturday where I am having some fresh Pirelli Scorpion Sync tires mounted and a new RK chain. I only have 4,500 miles on the bike but I will put 8,000 on it by September and I don’t want to hassle with the running gear on the road. I am taking the extra huge socket required to remove the rear wheel just in case, even though it weighs 9 pounds. (Hyperbole.)