Day 8 & 9, Darkness and Light

Day 8

We left Fairbanks after having the bikes serviced and headed north. Most everyone was telling us how bad it was on the roads, and how we should consider not going. Obviously weather was an issue, but terrible road conditions and mechanical failure was also something to worry about.

We stripped most of our gear off our bikes to make them lighter for the upcoming run to Prudhoe Bay. Outpost Honda/ BMW/ Harley Davidson stored it for us and we would pick it up next week on our return trip south.














We made it out of Fairbanks 10 miles and exited onto a two lane road that Google maps had a hard time finding during our planning stages. We continued on about another 30 miles to the James Dalton highway and it was just our two bikes, and a bunch of oncoming semis. The road deteriorated to broken pavement, then to gravel and we found it treacherous at best. It was like driving on a washboard. After an hour of this, Dan came up behind me beeping his horn, waved me over, and told me my license plate was hanging by two wires. The tools came out and a few zip ties later we were on our way.

Repairs on the road, literally.















A self portrait with the Alaskan Pipeline in the distance.















Some of the great scenery along the James Dalton Highway, heading north.














We stopped for pictures a few times and finally made it to Yukon River Camp, which is really just a tour stop along the Dalton, with rooms to rent and a low key restaurant with pretty decent food. When we arrived and fueled the bikes, it was 75 degrees and the sun was blazing hot. After we ate, we walked outside to find it in the mid or high 50’s, and starting to rain. Knowing that we were only 60 miles to the Arctic Circle, we pressed on. After 25 more miles of gravel, some of which was so poor I was struggling to maintain 20 mph, and then 35 miles of patched pavement (which felt like a godsend at the time) we finally made it to the Arctic Circle and stopped for more pictures. As soon as our helmets came off, mosquitoes attacked with such ferocity that we didn’t do more than take our pictures and get moving again. We had been told that the bugs were bad, but I had never seen anything like it. 60 more miles to Coldfoot Camp. Google it.

The Arctic Circle, complete with scenery and Navy SeAL-type mosquitoes

As we traveled along our way, we could see several storms in the distance that threatened heavy rain and wind. It was almost like special effects in a bad sci-fi movie. At one point, the temperature dropped from 70 to 48 in less than a minute as we headed downhill trying to beat the storms. As the rain hit, we slowed and rode very defensively as cross winds pushed the bikes first to one side of the road, then the other. We finally made it to Coldfoot Camp to find a very make shift set up. Seemingly, the inn (if you could call it that) was made of converted cargo containers that might have been on an ocean liner at one point. We ate before getting to our room and found the food decent and hot, with an Asian themed buffet with plenty for everyone. Knowing that this place is frequented by truckers from the haul road and oil field workers, we expected worse. Our room was perhaps small, but clean and warm.

As we prepared for tomorrow, we discussed our plans for the coming day and decided that regardless of the weather, we would attempt a run to Prudhoe Bay. We know that the road is going to be terrible, and weather conditions could be horrendous, but we feel that we are prepared for the worst, and hope for the best. There is an area called Atigun pass that is going to be the toughest we have seen yet and probably will be for the entire trip. The road goes over a mountain, up to 4,800 feet, and it snows there year round. We are hoping for sun, but know we have to play the cards dealt to us. If it can be done, we will.

Day 9

We left Coldfoot and headed north yet again. It has been nice during the first half of our trip in that we have never driven into the sun, unfortunately, the entire second half will be nearly blinding. As we got under way we found the road bad, but negotiable. Several miles later, we encountered construction zones that were in the early stages of grading the crushed gravel surface. As the gravel moved under the tires, the bikes would want to stay in ruts caused by the machinery, and the bike would want to “duck walk” down the road. 55 miles of this forced us to take a break, as aching wrists and shoulders needed to be stretched. We made it up to Atigun Pass, and the temperature dropped to a chilly 38 degrees. The sun was eclipsed by the clouds and we stopped to don our heavy gear. We continued on.

Dan at the base of Atigun Pass.














We dropped down to almost 3,000 feet and found a nice stretch of chip seal road, which was a big improvement from the gravel and potholes. Chip seal is sort of like pavement that is mixed with gravel; the surface is solid, it provides good traction, but is very tough on tires. Over the next 100 miles, this surface gave way to gravel, potholes and the occasional stretch of pavement. With 85 miles to go, we found a nice long stretch of actual concrete, and picked up our speed. We stopped for a quick break and coming towards us was an older couple riding a pair of BMW’s. They stopped to make sure we were ok, and told us they were from Boise, and were riding all over the country for the entire summer. The lady said the road behind them was in decent shape, relatively, with some of it paved, and had maintained good speed. Dan mentioned that he had heard the last 50 miles were the worst, and they agreed it was tough. After they left, we got moving again and found that she was correct, but knowing that we were running low on fuel, we kept the speed down. With 55 miles to go, we crossed on to gravel washboard that made the bikes vibrate so bad, we had to slow down yet again. The surface shifted under the tires without warning, causing the bikes to wander to both sides of the road. Trying to maintain any kind of speed was out of the question, and we crept on at 20 mph, stopping every so often to get off the bikes and ease aching shoulders and wrists. With 20 miles left, we found the road conditions worse than anything we had yet encountered, with a mix of shifting gravel, potholes and crushed pavement. As we kept moving, we saw what appeared to be deer on the road ahead of us. Stopping quietly, we observed a herd of Caribou, with a few Reindeer mixed in. A pickup truck came up behind us and the herd scattered, after posing for a few pictures.

The Caribou herd with a few Reindeer mixed in. They ignored us until a pickup truck came up behind us.














We got going again and almost immediately I lost control, almost dumping my bike in the gravel. A good save, but a lesson learned: Take it slow. Another 15 miles and we arrived in Prudhoe Bay, the Top of the World. Success!!!

Dan and I at the Arctic Caribou Inn at Prudhoe Bay, Alaska, the top of the world.















Dan and myself at the arctic ocean. Behind us you can see ice in the water.