7 Days In

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So here we are in Canada after only 7 days of the trip. How did we get from Anchorage Alaska to Haines Junction Canada. The silliest route possible really. But first things first.

A week ago our "official" send off was provided by Team Pterodactyl, a Anchorage Bike Group, consisting of lots of BMW GS riders. Fortuitously at least one member of Team P are members of the Alaska Machine Gun Club. So a short ride north of Anchorage to a shooting range and we were met with the biggest variety of gun hardware any Brit not in the forces will have seen in a long time. Magnum 45, AK47, M16, M60, Browning 1919, SA80, Uzi's and the daddy a 50 Calibre rifle! All live ammo resulted in fantastic fun for us non gun owning Brits. The Magnum, M16 and the 50 Calibre rifle were definite favourites, even if the rifle was in danger of dislocating your shoulder!

Terry of Team P then invited the whole group back to his house where he and his gang laid on the most fantastic barbecue of fresh salmon and steaks. Their hospitality and generosity was spectacular and will be remembered by all.

Bright and early in dampish weather the next day we are off on our long planned adventure and a nice easy days ride to settle in to Fairbanks. Every-one desperately looking for wildlife, particularly bears to little effect. At Fairbanks we met former US senator John Binkley, a fascinating and charming man (and Democrat) who had made contact because he has done the Trans Am ride as well. Except he did it in 1975 on a BMW R75, before the Dalton Highway was open to the public (he had to get special permission) and left Prudhoe in December (!) which was the only time he could get the Oil Companies to agree for him to use the road. Temperatures of -40 C, no goretex clothing, no internet or worldwide credit cards. Made us all feel a bit soft really!

Onwards North and onto the Dalton Highway, to Coldfoot Camp and to Deadhorse at the end of the road. The fabled Dalton behaved largely very well. Over 300 miles of gravel and mud, was dry and firm and the only really tricky bits were where the road was being graded. A process that involves dumping new gravel and mud on the road, scraping it flat, watering it and then waiting for the huge one or two trailored lorries to pack it down. These stretches claimed two fallers on the way up but both were OK with just bruised bodies and pride. On the Dalton we cross into the Arctic Circle, a stop punctuated by the largest mosquito's ever seen. Approaching Deadhorse we spy a massive herd of Caribou migrating across the arctic tundra. Very impressive as huge stags wade through rivers and drive the heard.

Deadhorse is an oil drilling and pump station "town" of massive proportions and the camps there and at Coldfoot are porta cabin buildings and very basic. Food however was excellent and plentiful as it needs to be to keep 1000's of oil workers happy. Deadhorse is however a DRY town - also a good idea with little to do for entertainment.

A day off at Deadhorse consisted of a two hour tour of the facility, skinny dipping in the Arctic Ocean (Warmer and disappointingly browner than expected) visiting the post office and general store and.... No thats its you've done Deadhorse!

Back down the Dalton to Coldfoot again, as there is only one road in and out and from there to Delta Junction. Back on tarmac of varying quality allows me to relax a little and Karen to stop holding her breath which I think she did for most of the Dalton. Delta provides a chance to wash the bike and boy she needed it. Delta is as they say here a "one horse town with no blacksmith" And then we continue heading south through the high smoke haze of forest fires and onto the Alcan Highway. A big name for a pretty rough, sparsely traffic'ed two lane road that spans from from Alaska down through Canada. Crossed the border into Canada and the first passport stamp. A few miles further on and we stop for the night at Beaver Creek. It's Saturday night, in small town (30 buildings in total!) Canada, there's a bar, a pool table, a few local boys and girls and they are playing Rush (Canadian band for those that don't know) on the stereo. Suffice to say a very good, very late, very boozy night was had. Ended up in a bar called Ida's. To be fair it is the only other bar in town.

As a bit of good karma, I am reading Ghost Rider (lent to me by Paul) a motorcycle travel journal, written by Neil Peart, drummer of the aforementioned Rush, who is traveling the very same road that we are on in my current chapter on his BMW. So today riding the long, still smoky and largely dull Alcan to Haines Junction with Rush playing in the crash helmets, made it fell like it was all meant to be.

So one week in and the trip is definitely living up to expectations. The riding has been varied as has the style of accommodation. Some great high points already ranging from the enormous vistas of Alaska, Caribou, Moose, riding the top of the world highway to Chicken and watching Christine crawling across the roof of the Alaska 7 Motel to retrieve a frisbee.

Will get some nice photo's added - but this internet link is so slow I can't do it here - Sorry....

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Photos

Arnie 2
Uzi 9mm - The only way to go...

Dalton Highway
One road north from here and its nearly all gravel...