Day 13 & 14

We made it from Tok to Whitehorse on Thursday, where Dan hit the hot springs and I opted for the Best Western. Unfortunately, our SPOT gps unit was lost somehow, and we are not tracking. We will try to replace it in Whitehorse before we head to Iskut, BC today, but I don't think it will happen.
I updated the previous post with a few good pictures, and probably won't be able to post again for a few days, as wifi is very intermittent where we are headed.
Thanks for all the comments!

Day 10 -12 Out of Alaska

Day 10, 11 & 12

We left Prudhoe Bay Monday morning with the idea of making it all the way to Fairbanks the end of the day. If you read the previous posts, you know that this was a big undertaking. Without going into too much detail, the road was in worse shape than the two days it took to ride up, with a lot of construction areas that turned the road into a sloppy, sticky, muddy mess. We left Prudhoe at 8:50 am and got to our hotel at 12:10 that night, dead tired.

Dan doing yoga along the Dalton Highway on the way home from Prudhoe Bay.

Along the way, we met several people that we found interesting:

Joseph was from Oregon and he and his dog Star were riding by bicycle from Fairbanks to Prudhoe Bay. He trained for a year to do this and said “It’s harder than I thought it would be.” We met him originally in Coldfoot, as he was having mechanical problems with his bike and we helped him take the front wheel apart to fix it. Unfortunately, the hub was gone and he was going to have to order another. Someone local sold him one instead.

Kenta was from Japan and studying at Centralia College in Washington State. He rode his bicycle from Anchorage and

was heading to Prudhoe Bay, about 850 miles and was going to take him almost a month. After taking a bus back to Fairbanks, He was going to ride south to

Montana, almost 2,000 miles and was going to take him 2 months, camping every night.

We met John at Yukon River Camp on the way south. When I first saw him, the first thought I had was that he could be a stand in for a 1850’s gold prospector in a movie. He carried a big .44 revolver in a shoulder holster and a rifle over his shoulder. When I asked what the guns were for, he replied in his gravelly voice, “Bear spray.” He told us a few interesting stories about bears trying to climb onto the deck on the back of his house, two miles away out in the middle of nowhere. He had a friend that got swatted around by a bear awhile back, and that friend now carries a big pistol around the house, and a rifle when he goes out anywhere.

It seemed at first that the people that we met along the way were unusual, but even though they have chosen to live a different life than those of us back in Chicago, without exception they all were nice and friendly and had a minute to talk if anyone said hello.

After having Nick at the motorcycle dealership check through my bike after the pounding it took coming back from Prudhoe, we left Fairbanks and made it to Tok, We intend to head to Teslin, BC today and then head south on the Cassier Highway and make our way back into Alaska to Hyder for the 3^rd and 4^th of July. We suspect that cellular service will end once we cross the border and wifi will be spotty again, so the next post might be in a few days. I am having trouble loading pictures here, but will add them when I can. The weather here is good and we are seeing scenery that we missed on our way north in all the rain.

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.

Day 8 - Service

Saturday morning we got up and headed to Outpost Honda/ BMW/ Harley Davidson and had the bikes serviced. As we have found over the last week, everyone was very helpful, knowledgeable and friendly. As we need to get moving today to Coldfoot, just a few pics of the morning.

The first picture is of Erik the Red, disassembled for an oil change and a new set of tires. Nick, the technician working on the bike, is reputed to be one of the best Honda mechanics in Alaska, and is a former race team mechanic. We hit it off well, and traded stories from years gone past. He had a few good ones about growing up near Watkins Glenn race track in New York. As I always have tried to be considerate taking pictures, he opted to not have a picture on the site here, but is a very friendly guy.














Daniel and Jerry, who runs the service department. Another great guy who was very welcoming and helpful getting the bikes ready for the 2 day run up to Prudhoe Bay.














Nick has about $45,000 sunk into tools and I didn't ask to borrow any. And another of the friendly people that work there.

Day 7, into Alaska

Day 7

So, its midnight and we are in Fairbanks and dead tired. Looking forward to heading north tomorrow to Coldfoot, Alaska, knowing that the conditions should be, to quote Geddy Lee of Rush, "Straining the limits of machine and man." We are prepared and optimistic, but also ready for the worst. After having the bikes serviced and new tires put on mine, we are off to The Top of the World. Sunday, we leave Coldfoot and head to Prudhoe Bay, the very north shore of Alaska and the Arctic Ocean.
Knowing that we need to get some sleep, I decided to just post a bunch of pictures of the last few days.

We saw this statue in Whitehorse, Yukon. It is in memory of all the prospectors that settled the area during the gold rush. And next to him, I imagine, is his trusty friend Buck, from Jack London's Call of the Wild.





















One of the many historic buildings in Dawon City, Yukon at the Dust to Dawson Rally from ADVRider.com. All the on road/ off road bikes are parked in front, and I got many funny looks showing up on my bright red Honda sport bike.















Another historic building, and where we stayed in Dawson City.




















As we arrived at the customs office at Poker Creek, Alaska (the most northern border crossing in the United States) I noticed that my odometer had hit exactly 10,000 miles.















After crossing into Alaska, we stopped in Chicken, Alaska (Google it) and had lunch here. How appropriate that I am standing next to a free Wifi sign.... This was after 110 miles of the worst road I have ever been on, in the rain, at 38 degrees. Good times!!

ALASKA !!!

It's noon Friday and we have crossed the border into Alaska.
Leaving Dawson City, YT we rode a ferry across the Yukon River and rode 65 miles of broken pavement to get to the border. After the usual customs stuff, we rode another 45 miles of the worst road I have ever seen. Roughly, it took 2 hours to make it to Chicken, Alaska (Google it) in 38 degree drizzle and are having lunch.

An email I just received told me that the gps tracker was not working, and after checking, we found that the SPOT unit is gone. We will try and replace it in Fairbanks, but are not holding our breathe.

I have more pictures to load when we get back to civilization, so check back tomorrow or Sunday.

We are good and having the time of our lives.

UPDATE: Sitting having lunch, a guy walks in and asks if anyone has lost a SPOT unit. We will be back online tracking in a bit.

Small World - Day 4 and 5

Day 4 and 5

Tuesday started clear and chilly, with temps in the high 40’s. We left Grande Cache with hopes of adding on mileage to get back on schedule. Most of the morning we moved well, with little traffic up to Grande Prairie. We stopped at a Best Buy to resolve some camera issues and kept going, crossing over into British Columbia. After lunch in Dawson Creek, we decided to pick up the pace a little and made it to Fort Nelson in late afternoon after a run that probably would have gotten the attention of state troopers back home. In Fort Nelson, being a little groggy from so much time moving at speed, I thought it would be a good thing to put diesel fuel in my tank instead of gasoline. Oops. After draining and refilling twice, with the help of some very friendly locals, we headed out another 105 miles to Toad River, for a total of 580 miles for the day. On the way, we had an encounter with a female moose: we came around a long sweeping left hand curve to find her standing in the road, looking bored. I stopped as quickly as I could but found myself only 40 feet away. After a minute or two, she started towards me at a walk and I turned around and rode back to Dan, who was already facing the direction we came. She then stood sideways in the road for several minutes and ignored us. Women! Finally, she walked off the road and we got moving again. I suspect that she was a bit on the small side but still the size of a Chevy Suburban.

Toad River Lodge was rustic at best, but the people were friendly, telling us to grab the only remaining room and we’d all “settle up in the morning.” We pulled in about 10:30 pm and it was still very light out. After unpacking, we were told that several Moose were swimming in the lake and went down to take pictures, none of which were any good. We started talking to the other people there and as it turned out, they were from Madison, Wisconsin. Small world.

Wednesday we left Toad River and hit a construction area that was 6 miles of gravel. The four semi trucks and 3 huge RV’s caused so much dust that I thought I was in a blizzard. We finally stopped to give the trucks a head start and inched our way along. Afterwards, we were covered in dust and couldn’t see out of our helmets. Good times!! We arrived in Watson Lake with thoughts of taking an alternate route, but found intel in town that told us the road was under construction, so we stayed on the Alaska Highway and kept going. Again this afternoon, we made better than good time up the Alaska Highway, with the scenery very similar to Colorado, or perhaps the north woods of Wisconsin, sans mountains. After crossing into the Yukon, we stopped in Teslin for a break, and spoke to a couple on a Honda Goldwing, (the benchmark of all touring bikes). They had left Missouri in late May and were going to keep riding until the 2^nd or 3^rd week of July. Must be nice! We arrived in Whitehorse, the capital of the Yukon Territories and almost immediately ran into people we had talked to in Toad River.

We have traveled more than 3,000 miles since leaving Chicago 5 days ago and all I can think is “Small World.”

This is Toad River Lodge... very rustic but everyone was very friendly.















This was taken along the Alaska Highway. I think it was called Dease Lake, but it might as well be called Mirror Lake.














This was also along the Alaska Highway. June 25th and there is still snow in the mountains.














P.S. We have made it to Dawson City, Yukon and have had a great time today, day 6. Currently, we are at Bombay Peggy's, drinking Yukon Discovery Ale. Good stuff. If you get here, ask for Shauna. Unfortunately, massive internet connection problems have kept me from posting. The pictures above take about 7 or 8 minutes each to upload, and I have about a dozen I would like to post. Tomorrow we head to Alaska, with our target Fairbanks. Hopefully (I am told) my phone will work again once I get near Tok, (rhymes with Coke) Alaska and I can post more pictures when I get to Fairbanks. Stay tuned.

The First Three Days

Day one and two were a straight shot from Chicago to Calgary; long super interstate runs broken up with a blur of gas stations stops. In the middle of North Dakota, we headed due north and made it to within an hour of the border, before we ran out of gas ourselves. The border crossing was easy and quick, and the rest of the trip to Calgary was made in periodic drizzle and sporadic sunlight.
Monday, day three, we loaded up and headed for the mountains of Banff. Two national parks and elevation changes up to nearly 7,000 feet and the weather turned colder, dipping to 47 degrees at one point, although mostly the temps were in the 50's. Quite a change from the 88 and humid back home in Chicago. Our rest stops stretched out and we found ourselves running behind schedule, deciding to stop in Grande Cache, Alberta instead of Grande Prairie, 100 miles further. To say that I am tired as I type this would be a serious understatement. I only managed a few pictures today before the battery in the camera went dead, but a few turned out ok.
How to go on vacation:
Step 0ne: Take a well engineered motorcycle.


















Step 2: Add a bunch of stuff you probably won't use like tents and sleeping bags and such



















Step 3: Go to a country that has signs about Elk and Bears and ride around.























The placard here tells about the geography of the area and also some of the wild life. There are signs all over that say to keep away from bears.
Who really needs to be told that?


















Looking at a few of the bluffs near Banff and Lake Louise.

Is this what we are in for?

Somehow, a week before the trip, this seemed appropriate.

Brenda's House and Sassy the Pug

Brenda's house/ basecamp in Calgary. Where's the dog?

The dog has been found, off on an errand.

A practice post

The road tires that handle curves at speed.

The new ones that will take me to the top of the world.

Travels with TC

Travels With TC
(or The Adventures of El Rojo)

So…I did it!! 1,073 miles (or 1,068 depending on who you believe) in less than 24 hours. Here’s the story; Friday the 24th of November, day after Thanksgiving, I get up at 5:30 and get all suited up. Going to be a cold ride I think. Long underwear, new motopants I bought 2 days earlier along with a new pair of riding boots. Turtleneck, a mock turtleneck over that (I hate being cold). North Face windproof- waterproof- insulated gloves. And my best friend…a Gerbing Union Ridge heated jacket. Time to go. Get the bike out of the garage, warm it up in front of my building for a few minutes and I’m off. A quick stop at Citibank to get some cash (just in case…) and a tank of gas at the Shell station up the street. No cold ride would be complete without of thermos of hot coffee so a few minutes at Starbucks and I’m good to go. Stand up at 7:20. It’s 38 degrees.

Out of Chicago (90/94 to 55 south) is uneventful, the highway is quiet. I figure most people are taking the day off from work or shopping. The guy on the radio said the crowds were out at the malls already, but I didn’t see them. An hour into the ride and I’m a little cold, but not concerned; I know it is supposed to be a beautiful day. I get settled at speed and start eating miles. Really the only thing that I have noticed so far is the number of deer that have been hit by cars. I figure I see one about every 5 miles or so. Living in the city, I don’t see deer very often. I stop after 155 miles for gas. An older lady asks if the cross winds on the highway bothers me at all. Back on the bike and I figure out my mileage as I’m riding. Something like 33 mpg. Not too good. As I get closer to St. Louis, I am seeing more and more deer that have been hit. I guess I see one about every mile. That’s a lot of smashed cars too. Traffic picks up closer to St. Louis, and a police officer pulls me over. The ticket says 80 in a 65 zone. I don’t think I was going that fast and "How does he estimate my speed from ½ a mile behind me anyway?" Well, either way I have to slow down. St. Louis is great. I took a picture of the bike with the Arch in the background, get some gas (35 mpg!!) and eat a few White Castle sliders (I am going to regret it later, but I am hungry and they taste so good). Its 73 degrees and sunny; fantastic weather…sure beats being at my office.

64 East. 260 miles to Louisville. The sun is off to my right, the highway is curvy enough to keep my attention and the scenery is great. Late fall and all the trees are dark red and brown. Very light traffic. Cops are out but I can see a good distance and I’m taking it easy anyway. On previous trips, my GPS unit has told me how fast my bike will go, no reason to cause any trouble today. At the border of Illinois and Indiana, I take a picture of the “Welcome to Indiana” sign to add to my collection (I think that makes a total of 26).

I get gas in Ferdinand, Indiana and get back on the bike quick (I’m in the zone). Another couple hours and I cross the Ohio River into Kentucky. I wanted to take a picture of the ‘Welcome to’ sign but I was on the highway with traffic and there was no shoulder to be had. Through the city and another stop for gas (39 mpg). I am about half way done (570 miles so far). It’s starting to get a little dark so I changed the lenses in my sunglasses to orange (I thought they would be better than nothing in the dark). I was wrong, they sucked.

I left 64 and took 71 North towards Cincinnati. As I crossed over some small rolling hills it got dark fast and I saw more and more deer. Live ones. Theses things were everywhere. 45 minutes out of Louisville, I figured I had seen 5 or 6 hundred deer in the median between the northbound and southbound lanes. 10 feet away from the side of the highway, they stood and munched grass, unconcerned about all the speeding cars. I couldn’t help thinking “How did they get between the lanes?” They must have crossed traffic at some point, right? I doubt they would live their whole lives in an area 100 yards wide and 20 miles long. Never before have I been on my bike and so happy to be surrounded by cages (cars)…I guess there is a first for everything.Traffic was fairly heavy but it moved steadily (and it kept the deer away from me) as I got closer to Cincinnati. I had never been to that city before. Approaching from the south the city was lit well and I could see the skyline; very picturesque. I wanted to stop and get the camera out, but again I couldn’t find a good spot on the shoulder and I didn’t want to get run over in the dark. Besides, Chicago has the best skyline in the world…look at it from a mile out in Lake Michigan, you’ll agree. 71 merged with 75 for a few miles and then I stayed on 75 and headed north towards Dayton. I am not sure what I expected (one of my nieces goes to school there) but Dayton was a non event.Another gas stop in Sidney, Ohio. I just rode 205 miles on 4.3 gallons of gas which translates into 47 mpg. I did the math over and over in my head, thinking I was making a mistake before I realize I was cruising at 63 mph for 3 hours. I have never had mileage like that; around the city it’s always about 35. At the gas stop I change my plan and decide to exit the highway a few exits early and ride northwest to Fort Wayne on route 33 instead of route 30. But I’m hungry so I stop at a Wendy’s in Wapakoneta, Ohio, get some chow and flag down a police officer. He tells me route 33 to Fort Wayne is an easy drive and I ask him how it would be on a motorcycle “Oh, you’re on a motorcycle?”…No Sh*t Sherlock…why else would I be holding a helmet and be standing next to a bright red bike? I digress.

I take 33 west for only a few minutes and realize not only did I leave the highway, I left civilization. Route 33 is a 2 lane country rode that is probably a very good time during the day if you know the area. All I know is I’m out in the middle of nowhere, its pitch black (10pm-ish) and I have no idea where I am. I cruise along at the posted speed or maybe a little over, but about every 10 miles or so, I have to slow down to 25 and go through a town (if you want to call it that). I’m a little nervous, but I figure I’ll be ok. After maybe an hour of this, I start playing with my GPS unit. This thing will tell me pretty much anything I ask if I ask it correctly; Garmin makes a good unit. Well, I don’t know what I asked it because in some small town (very small) it told me to turn right instead of following 33 as it continued northwest. 200 yards later I turn left on to RR 49 (RR means rural route and that’s accurate). 5 miles later I take another left and this road (calling it a road would be generous) turns to all gravel. Crap. A mile later it dead ends into a dirt road (path would be better). The h#ll with this, I turn around and retrace my tracks. About halfway back through the gravel a big dog (very big) comes out of the shadows and starts chasing me while barking his head off. Nice. It is at this point that I think maybe things aren’t going so well. I leave the dog behind (after just about wetting my pants) and follow 49 back to 33 and keep going the way I was originally. It is somewhere along this road I notice that the thermometer that said 73 earlier now says 37. My heated grips and jacket are both turned on full blast.I make it from 33 onto 469, which is a bypass around Fort Wayne and get on 69 north. I ride through a few miles of construction and get out into the boonies again. I am tired and cold and I just want to get home. I realize that I need to upgrade my headlights or something because I can’t see much without my high beams on. 200-ish more miles to go. 69 goes north all the way to Lansing, Michigan and the original plan was to get over the border into Michigan (just so I could say I rode 6 states in one day) but I was running on fumes at this point. From 69 I took the 80/90 toll road west back towards Chicago. The woman at the tollbooth told me its 22 miles to the next gas station. I made it there, filled up (42 mpg) and walked around to get some feeling back in my feet. It was then I remembered I had packed my heated socks (they plug into the jacket). I put those on and just stood next to the bike in the parking lot with everything turned on high. 144 miles to go.
I got back on 80/90 and just sat at 70 mph for an hour and a half. I reached the end of the toll part of
the highway and paid $3.70. I asked if motorcycles got a break because they use less of the
road…the woman just laughed. Another 10 miles or so and I reach the Indiana – Illinois border
where I had to give them $0.50 (I’m not sure what for …“Didn’t I just pay?”). Once I cross the border
I am almost immediately in Chicago (or maybe I don’t know where the border is…) and I made a
$2.50 donation to Mayor Daley so I could cross a bridge (?). I’m tired. I’m really tired.
Once I get on the Dan Ryan Expressway, it’s not hard to keep my attention on the road. Its 1:15 in
the morning and the traffic there is moving. The Ryan is not the greatest place to ride a motorcycle
because it’s half demolition derby and half Indy 500. Plus, most of it is under construction (the
construction project started about the time I was born and isn’t done yet). I am trying not to get hit
when I catch a red light (red light?). Somehow I managed to not watch all the lanes closure signs
and I find that I have exited the expressway and I am looking at Cermak road. “You gotta be kidding
me!!” Anyway, I drive around for a few minutes before I get back on 55 south (where this whole
adventure started) and make it to 90/94 west (which actually goes north). Exit at Ohio Street and
back to the same gas station I filled up at 19 hours ago. 1073 miles by the bike’s odometer and 1068
by GPS.

-TC Rides

Tail of the Dragon/ May 2008

Another day in the twisties....