Home Page
|
BMW MOA #12
BMW RA #287 |
|
| STORIES | ||
| Back to Stories Menu | ||
|
The Ultimate Ride
by Fred Boothe On July 11, 2001, Chuck, my riding partner, and I departed Houston, Texas heading towards Key West, Florida. The plan was to do the Ironbutt Ultimate Coast to Coast ride from Key West Florida to Prudhoe Bay, Alaska. The trip had been planned for two years, and now the day of departure had arrived. To begin, I would meet Chuck at Highway 146 and I-10 just outside of Houston. We live about 80 miles apart and this seemed to be the most logical location to meet. Our meeting time was set for 5:00 a.m. I would have to leave my house at around 4:00 a.m. to be able to meet him at the designated time. My wife, who is one of the most understanding women in the world, usually does not get up to see me off on my trips. This time I noticed her wandering into the kitchen as I was loading the last items on the bike. I asked her why she was up, and she responded that since I was going to be gone for so long, maybe she should see me off. I thought that was thoughtful until she asked where I kept my life insurance papers. While my wife stood in the doorway I mounted the bike, backed it out of the garage, turned the key to the on position, and then woke my neighbors up with a few choice words that are not in the dictionary. While hitting the start button, I noticed my headlight was out. Now one has to remember that before I went to bed, I checked everything on the bike: oil, tires, lights, made sure it would start and so on. Now before I get out of my driveway, I didn't have a headlight. I figured out pretty quickly it must be the headlight bulb since the bike did start without any problem. It just so happened that I had a spare headlight bulb that I kept when I replaced my headlight with a Super White Piaa bulb. I got off the bike, got the screwdriver out, and went to work. About fifteen minutes later I had the bulb changed, and the Piaa was in the trash. That is the last time I'll spend $42.00 for a bulb that lasted six months. Now I was running 15 minutes late and I still hadn't left my driveway. I kissed my wife, remounted the bike and off I went. The ride to meet Chuck was uneventful. I arrived at Highway 146 and I-10 around 5:10 a.m. and Chuck was there waiting for me. I gassed up, got something to drink, and we stood around and shot the sh&* for awhile. Our plan was to take a couple of days to get to Key West so we wouldn't burn ourselves out before we started the run. On the way to Key West we made prior arrangements with Happs Cycles in Sarasota, Florida to put some new tires on the bikes. We planned to be at Happs by noon on Thursday and with the distance being about 900 miles, we figured a day and a half to get there would be a fairly casual ride. The ride was uneventful until we got just west of Mobile, Alabama. For a few miles I noticed the clouds were getting darker and just outside of Mobile we noticed a wall of water in front of us. We jumped off the interstate into a convenience store gas station to fill up the bikes and figure out if we wanted to ride through the storm or wait it out. While we were gassing up the bikes, the storm started, rain, wind and lightening. Usually, I will ride in rain, wind, snow, sleet, or hail, but when the lightening starts, I try to find a place to hide out. Being 6 1/2 tall, I am usually the tallest thing on the road without cover. We waited until most of the lightening stopped, but the rain was still coming down pretty hard. We decided to put on our rainsuits and head off into the storm. It rained on us the rest of the day until we stopped for the night in Perry, Florida. After a night in the local "no tell'em motel", we started Day Two at about 5:00 a.m. It started raining on us from the time we pulled out of the motel's parking lot till midday. Just like the end of Day One, it rained on us off and on all morning long. We arrived at Happs Cycle in Sarasota at noontime. As I mentioned earlier, we had made prior arrangements with Happs to have some tires waiting for us to put on the bikes. Happs is one of the best dealers I have ever visited. Our tires were there, and they worked on both bikes soon after we arrived. Approximately an hour and a half later, we were back on the road. Most of that time was spent standing around talking. We could have been back on the road in less than 45 minutes, had we been in a hurry. We encountered one more rainstorm before we arrived at Highway 41. I have never crossed the Everglades, so we decided to take the scenic route. The only thing I can say about Highway 41 is that it's straight, hot and humid. Day Two ended in Homestead, Florida. We spent the night in Homestead, Florida. Our plan now was to drive to Islamorada the next day and check into our motel as early as we could, try to get some sleep, before we started the Prudhoe Bay run. We arrived at Islamorada around 11:30 a.m. and found we could not check into the motel until 2:00 p.m. We, basically, just hung around the area, had some lunch, and waited until 2:00 p.m. to check in. Now here was the plan for the Key West to Prudhoe Bay run. Friday: Check into the motel, try and get some sleep, then leave for Key West at 11:00 p.m.. Saturday: Get our witness form signed, take a picture of the Southernmost Point in the U.S.; start the actual run at 3:00 a.m.; stop for the night in Eddyville, Kentucky. Sunday: Start in Eddyville and ride until we drop, hopefully, somewhere around Fargo, North Dakota. Monday: Ride until we drop again, hopefully, somewhere around Valleyview, Alberta, Canada. Ride until we drop, hopefully, somewhere around Whitehorse, Yukon Canada. Wednesday: Ride until we drop, hopefully making it to Pruedoe Bay. Well, that was the plan. Now I'll write about what actually happened. We were able to get a little sleep after checking into the motel. I woke up somewhere around 9:00 p.m. Chuck woke up a short time later, so we started getting ready to leave, while watching the Weather Channel. At 10:00 p.m. we were loaded and ready to go, so we decided to leave a little early for Key West. One of our major concerns about the trip was riding to Key West from Islamorada on a Friday night. There is only one major road, and being a party area, we figured there would be a few drunks on the road. Well, there was. As soon as I pulled out of the motel's parking lot, I found myself riding behind a pickup truck. We hadn't traveled a mile when I noticed all kinds of sparks on the road behind the truck. I then heard popping sounds, and it didn't take long to figure out they were throwing firecrackers out the window. I thought, what a way to start the night. I gave the truck a lot of space, and a few miles down the road he turned off. We arrived at Key West around midnight without any further incidents. First on our schedule was to find a police officer to sign our witness form. That worked out pretty easy. While having a soda at a gas station food mart, an officer pulled into the parking lot. After getting our witness forms signed, we headed out to the Southernmost Point to take a couple of pictures. After that was done we went to the local Denny's to get something to eat. After eating, we found it was only 1:45 a.m. We decided to start the run early instead of waiting until 3:00 a.m. We rode to the nearest gas station, filled our tanks, got our receipts and headed north. The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. We rode, we gassed, we rode, and we gassed some more. We gassed up about every 160 miles, and at each gas stop we switched who would lead. This actually worked out pretty well. It was hot and humid, and the only real hassle we had was going through Atlanta, Georgia. We expected this, so it wasn't much of a surprise. We arrived at Eddyville, Kentucky around 9:00 p.m. Eddyville is about 40 miles from the area where I was raised. It's not much of a town. We checked into the only motel we could find. While checking in we noticed a McDonald's just up the road, so after we paid the bill, we headed to the McDonald's to get a burger and bring it back to the room. While at the McDonald's, the memories started coming back to me, on what it was like when I was growing up. Being a Saturday night, the teenagers were hanging out inside the restaurant. It looked like this was the local hangout. I know when I was growing up we hung out in a McDonald's similar to this one. The only thing that was different, was all the teenagers in this McDonalds had different hair color, and I don't mean different natural hair color. After getting the burgers, we headed back to the room, where we ate, showered and then went to bed. We set the alarm clock for 2:45 a.m. The plan was to depart at 3:00 a.m. We did wake up on time and were loaded and ready to go on time. We gassed up at the local gas station and headed north, again. Our plan was to try and make it to the Fargo, North Dakota area before stopping. The entire route for the day was interstate, so we figured we could make pretty good time. We started off the same way we did Day One. We gassed up at about every 160 miles, while switching lead at each gas stop. The morning ride was uneventful until we reached Saint Louis, Missouri. We crossed the Mississippi River and hooked up with Interstate 70. It was still early in the morning, so the traffic was pretty light. I was leading at this point, and I wasn't letting any grass grow under my tires. Suddenly, as I topped an elevated area on the interstate, I saw that an accident had occurred, and there were several cars blocking the lanes. There were people lying in the road being attended to by people who had evidently stopped after running up on the accident. Needless to say, I had to make some pretty sudden maneuvers to avoid being part of the accident. As I passed them, I watched my rearview mirror to make sure Chuck made it through. After leaving Saint Louis, it was just a lot of interstate riding. It was just the same old routine, gas and go, gas and go, and some more gas and go. An interesting thing did happen at a gas stop just north of Omaha, Nebraska. It was just a little gas station food store in the middle of nowhere. We pulled in, gassed the bikes, and were taking a small break when I saw a pickup truck pull in. There were two males and one female inside the truck, but what caught my attention was when the female exited the truck. She nearly fell to the ground. It became quite obvious that she was pretty liquored up. As this female attempted to walk to the store, one of the males came over to us and started a conversation about motorcycles. We spoke to the guy until the female came out of the store, I guess she did make it inside. She walked up to us and started cussing like a sailor. She explained that the clerk would not let her in the store without first putting some shoes on. The guy who was standing with us told the female in no uncertain terms she needed to go and get her shoes on and get the beer. Chuck and I looked at each other, and with a glance, we decided it was time to get on the road again. While we were getting our helmets on, the male kept talking to Chuck about his hot rod Venture. About the time we figured we could get away, the female came back out of the store with the beer, and started talking about our crotch rocket motorcycles. Well, our bikes have been called a lot of things, but crotch rocket has not been one of them. We finally got our helmets on and the bikes started, but as we were pulling off, the female decided to flash Chuck. Chuck asked me later on down the road if I saw what happened. I told him I did, but I wished I hadn't because I was still feeling nauseous from the sight. For the rest of the day we headed north on Interstate 29. We wanted to make Fargo by nightfall, and we succeeded. We rolled into Fargo at around 8:00 p.m., so we decided to go a little farther. Our planned route from Fargo was to head west on Interstate 94, and turn north on U.S. Highway 52 at Jamestown. When we arrived at Jamestown, we felt we still could drive a little longer, but we were concerned whether there were any motels between Jamestown and Minot. We stopped in a local convenience store to ask what the motel situation was on Highway 52. I made the mistake of being the one to go into the store and try to get some information. Once inside, I went to the checkout counter and asked the young lady who was working there if she knew if there were any motels on Highway 52 between where we were and Minot. Her response was "where is Minot". I fell into the trap and informed her Minot was about 140 miles away along Highway 52. Her next comment to me was "I don't even know where Highway 52 is". I then knew there was a problem in Jamestown, because Highway 52 was about 20 yards from where we were standing. I stood there for a minute, and I am sure I had a confused look on my face. A man that was standing behind me told me there was a couple of motels in Carrington, which was about 50 miles down the road. I thanked him for the information and got the hell out of the twilight zone. Chuck and I headed up Highway 52, and made it to Carrington at approximately 9:30 p.m. This is where we decided to call it a night and checked into a local motel. Day Three of the run started in Carrington, North Dakota about 3:00 a.m. We first gassed up at the local 24-hour gas station and headed north on Highway 52. As we were leaving town, it was easy to see this was probably going to be a long day. As we headed out of town we could see numerous lightning strikes, and heard the sound of thunder ahead of us. Now remember I will ride in rain, sleet, snow or hail, but when the lightning starts, I'm ready to find some cover. I could tell that we were still some distance from the storm, so we continued on. Chuck usually leads at night because he runs a little faster than I do in the dark. Having had an encounter with a deer several years ago, and seeing numerous deer on the side of the road, I kept my pace a little slower. I was about a mile outside of a small town called Martin when I noticed I couldn't see Chuck's taillight. I figured there must be some curves or small hills that were obstructing my view. It was easy to figure out after I rode into a wall of water, why I lost sight of his taillight. The rain was coming down so hard that I nearly had to come to a complete stop. I was wearing a motorcross type helmet, so when I encountered the rain my visibility went to about zero. I did have my goggles, but they were safely stowed in my tank panniers. I made the immediate decision to turn around and get out of the rain. I made a quick U-turn and headed back to the little town of Martin. Before I got back to the town, the rain caught up with me, so I started looking for somewhere to duck and hide. The only place I could find was the doorway to a small building that had about a two-foot recess. I grabbed my rainsuit and got in the doorway. While I was getting into the rainsuit the main part of the storm hit. Lightning started striking all over the place, the thunder was rolling, and it was raining so hard I couldn't see my bike which was only 10 feet away. While I was there, the town's electricity went out, so I figured I was going to have to sit this one out for awhile. The rain lasted for about 30 minutes. When it let up, I decided to mount up and head out and see if I could find Chuck. I was pretty sure he drove on until he could find a safe place to wait out the storm. As I was getting onto my bike, two lightening bolts hit about a 100 yards away from me, on two different sides. Well, that made up my mind, I ducked back into the doorway, and planned to sit it out a little while longer. Now, there I was sitting in a doorway, in a town, that is not on most maps in North Dakota. That's where I stayed for the next 30 to 45 minutes until it started turning light. Once it started getting light, I could see the main part of the storm had passed. There were still some thunder and lightening, but by this time the mosquitoes had found me. I had to decide whether to sit it out a little longer with the mosquitoes, or brave the lightning. After another five minutes with the mosquitoes, the lightning didn't seem so bad. I got back on the bike and headed north again. I ran across Chuck about 20 miles down the road. When we stopped, Chuck told me that when he hit the rain, he was behind a semi-truck so he decided to try and drive through it. He told me when he arrived at the next town he saw a small store that was open, and he stopped and waited out the storm. We were now about 1 hours behind schedule, so we tried to pick up the pace, but we rode in and out of rain until we arrived at the Canadian boarder. Now, I have been to Canada a number of times, and have never had any problems crossing the border, at least not until that day. When we arrived at the Canadian Custom's checkpoint, I stopped and was asked the usual questions. The next thing I knew the Customs Officer handed me a piece of paper and directed me to pull over and go inside. Confused, I did what I was told. Once inside I was told that I would need to see Immigration, which would not be open for another 45 minutes. Now I was really confused. I asked the Customs Officer why I needed to see Immigration. I never did get a straight answer. The only thing I could do was wait and see what the deal was. The next thing I knew Chuck informed me that they told him that he would need to see Immigration. We took a seat and waited until Immigration opened. When Immigration opened, we went inside and were asked the standard questions. The Immigration's Officer then informed us that citizens of the United States do not have the right to come and just drive through their country. I felt this was a funny statement and was not sure how to take it. I had visited Canada several times and I was quite aware that Canada is a sovereign nation, and knew when visiting I should follow their laws and customs. After the Immigration's Officer made this statement, I just stood there and looked at her. She then asked me how long I had saved up to make this trip. Now I really thought this was a silly question, and by this time I was getting pretty pissed about the whole situation, so instead of answering the question, I asked her why she needed to know this information. The interview quickly ended and we were allowed to enter Canada. I guess that wasn't a question she really needed to know the answer. Now just for the record, I was not stupid enough to tell Customs and Immigration that we were planning on going through the country in less than two days. We just told them we were heading to Alaska, and we would be in Canada as long as it took to get there. So why we were held up at the boarder is still a good question. The rest of the day was uneventful. It rained on us off and on the entire way to Whitecourt, Alberta where around 10:00 p.m. we stopped for the night. After stopping we hoped, when we started the next day, we would have some better weather. We started Day Four of the run in Whitecourt around 4:00 a.m. As we were loading the bikes, we knew we were in for another long day when the rain started before we even pulled out of the motel parking lot. We gassed up the bikes, and headed for Dawson Creek, which is the beginning of the Alaska Highway. As we left Whitecourt it was a bit foggy and drizzling rain. The farther we went the harder the rain came down. By the time we arrived at Grand Prairie, Alberta, the heavens had opened up and the rain was pouring down. Needless to say, we didn't make much time, and we definetly didn't make up any of the time we lost the day before. We gassed up in Grand Prairie, and as we left the city, our spirits lifted because it looked like we were finally getting out of the rain. We could actually see clear skies ahead and it turned out we had an easy dry ride to Fort Nelson. While at Fort Nelson we had sunny skies and warm temperatures. As we headed out of Fort Nelson, it was clear for about the first hundred miles, but then it started to rain again. The rain wasn't coming down hard, but it was steady. We hit the construction zones. If you have never traveled in the upper part of Canada let me tell you how they work on the roads. First they pull up the old road, then you drive on what's underneath, which when it rains means mud. Now this mud could be one inch thick, or it could be a foot thick, you just have to grit your teeth and go for it, for there is no other way. As it turned out some of the construction zones had an inch of mud and others had a foot. The one thing they all had in common was that they were all mud. We arrived in Watson Lake around 8:15 p.m. It took us nearly eight hours to go the three hundred miles between Fort Nelson and Watson Lake. By now we were several hours behind schedule because of all the rain and the delay at the Canadian Boarder. We had to take a minute and think about the situation. If we wanted to make Prudhoe Bay in less than five days, we would have to drive all night and cover a distance of 1400 miles. We didn't know what kind of road construction lay ahead of us, but we were sure of one thing, there would be more. Looking at the sky we could see that we were heading into more rain, so for at least part of the ride we would have to do it in the rain. By this time we were in good spirits, but we were pretty tired. After discussing the situation, we decided that we would not be able to make up the time we had already lost, so the best thing we could do was call it a day and check into a motel. That is what we did. We started day five around 7:00 a.m. It was raining when we woke up, and as we headed out of Watson Lake we were riding in drizzling rain. It rained on us off and on until we arrived at Whitehorse. On the way, we did hit a few construction areas, which were of course were all mud. When we stopped in Whitehorse for gas we got to thinking, which in our case is dangerous, we figured out that we still could make Prudhoe Bay in less than six days. By this time, we were riding at a fairly casual pace, now it was time to pick up the pace. It was now 12:41 p.m. Pacific Time. To make it in less than six days we would have to be in Prudhoe Bay by 11:00 p.m. the next day. The distance was about 1100 miles, and 500 of that would be on unpaved roads. After some quick calculating, we figured we could do it. Our plan was to ride to Tok, Alaska, get some sleep, and then make it the rest of the way to Prudhoe Bay. By the time we left Whitehorse the rain had stopped, and we had good weather all the way into Tok. We arrived at Tok around 9:00 p.m., and checked into a motel to get a little sleep before the final push to Prudhoe Bay. When figuring out the time, it can get a bit confusing. Because of all the time changes, you just don't figure your time by counting the times you stop at the end of the day. Remember a full day is 24 hours, so one full day of riding is 24 hours. You count the time at the end instead of the beginning. We started this run on Saturday, July 14, 2001 at approximately 2:00 a.m. Eastern Time. To make it to Prudhoe Bay in less than six days we would have to be in Prudhoe Bay by Friday, July 20, 2001 at 2:00 a.m. Eastern Time, which would be six 24-hour periods of riding. In other words we would have to make it from Key West to Prudhoe Bay in 144 hours or less. So we stopped in Tok on Wednesday, July 18, 2001 at approximately 9:00 p.m., which means we have been on the road from Key West for 115 hours. We planned to leave Tok on Thursday, July 19, 2001 at 3:00 a.m., which will be total of 121 hours on the road from Key West. This means we had 23 hours to make it to Prudhoe Bay before the end of day 6. Still confused, well try figuring this out when you have been on the road for 115 hours with only about 15 of those consisted of sleep. We were on the road by 3:00 a.m. We made a gas stop in Delta Junction, and then rode non-stop the rest of the way to Fairbanks. We arrived in Fairbanks approximately 7:30 a.m. We made a quick stop for gas, bought some snack items, and then headed for the Dalton Highway. The Dalton Highway is one long unpaved road that ends in Deadhorse, which is commonly referred to as Prudhoe Bay. It is approximately 500 miles of an unpaved road where the condition changes by the mile. There are only a couple of places to get gas and they are the Yukon River and Coldfoot, which is also the halfway point. We made quick time to Coldfoot, only being slowed down by some construction zones. When we arrived at Coldfoot, we gassed up, and headed out trying to make it to Prudhoe Bay as soon as possible. The weather was good and for the most part the road was dry. The ride from Fairbanks to Prudhoe Bay was pretty uneventful, but it was rough and challenging. We arrived at the Arctic Caribou Inn approximately 7:40 p.m. This meant that we made it from Tok to Prudhoe Bay in 16 hours and 40 minutes. When we arrived at the Caribou Inn we asked where we could get gas, and a receipt for our ending time. We were given directions, and as we walking back to our bikes, Chuck asked me if I saw the bear. I asked what bear? Chuck told me the bear that was behind me. I turned around and saw a grizzly bear about a 150 yards away rooting for some food. Chuck asked me if I wanted to grab a camera and get closer for a picture. I told Chuck that I was close enough, and I wasn't interested in getting any closer to get a picture. We got on the bikes and rode to the gas pumps and filled up our bikes and obtained our ending receipt. Just as a side note, where we gassed up was on the other side of the building where we saw the bear. Now that was a big bear, so I spent most of the time watching for it and figuring out where I was going to run, ride, jump, crawl, or fly to get away from it if it came around the building. Our ending gas receipt showed our ending time as 7:54 p.m. Alaska Time. If I figured correctly, this meant that by leaving Key West on Saturday, July 14, 2001, at 2:11 a.m. Eastern Time, and arriving in Prudhoe Bay on Thursday, July 19, 2001, at 7:54 p.m. Alaska Time, (which would be 11:54 p.m. Eastern Time), the total trip took 5 days 22 hours and 43 minutes. Now that we had the gas receipts we had to get two witness signatures to complete the run. It just so happened that on the way to Prudhoe Bay we were leap froging a couple of other riders who turned out to be Iron Butt Association members. They were planning on spending the night in Prudhoe Bay and they volunteered to sign our witness forms. We were able to find them at the motel, and after getting our witness forms signed, we really weren't sure what we were going to do. We had discussed that after we finished our run, we would start to head back and stay at Coldfoot or the Yukon River. We had pretty good weather, but we knew that could change in a matter of minutes, and we didn't want to get caught that far north in the rain. After discussing the matter, we both agreed that we were pretty beat, so we decided to stay the night in Prudhoe Bay. Now, saying night is a bit of a misnomer, because it doesn't get dark in Prudhoe Bay at that time of the year. We rode back to the Caribou Inn and went inside to check in. This is when we learned that a shoe box room at the Caribou Inn is $120.00 a night. We decided to bite the bullet and cough up the money for the room. While checking in, I asked the clerk what happened to the bear. The clerk, without looking up, said he wasn't sure but security probably came and shooed it away. Remember we have been on the road for thousands of miles, through all kinds of weather, and being tired, hungry and generally beat to shit, I just had to ask "how in the hell do you shoo a two thousand pound bear away?" The clerk looked up and started laughing, and stated that he guessed his answer was kind of funny. He went on to explain that security uses rubber bullets and sirens to run the bears out of the compound area. After unloading our bikes, we went to see about getting something to eat, and learned that dinner was over at 8:00 p.m. In other words, we weren't getting anything to eat. They do have a store, so we decided to go and see if we would be able to get some lunchmeat and a loaf of bread. The store had everything but lunchmeat and bread, but that was probably for the best, because looking at the prices in the store we wouldn't be able to afford it anyway. We did have some snacks that we bought in from Fairbanks, so we went back to our room and ate them while watching the 13-inch color TV. They do have satellite TV in Prudhoe Bay. We woke up the next morning around 5:00 a.m. Finding out we would not be able to get any breakfast until 8:00 a.m., we decided to head out. We were about 10 miles outside of Prudhoe Bay when all of a sudden an Arctic Fox ran out in front of my bike. This caused some amusement with Chuck, because he says I am the only person he knows that can be riding in the middle of nowhere, with not a bush in sight, and the only animal within a 100 miles runs in front of my bike. I guess I need to give a little background as to why that is funny. I am notorious for being an animal magnet. I have had, just about every type of animal imaginable, run in front of my bike. The unfortunate thing is I have hit most of them. The ride back from Prudhoe Bay started out well. We had clear skies and sunshine, but I had the feeling of pending doom, because ahead of us you could see the dark clouds hanging over the Brooks Mountain Range. When we arrived at the mountains, the rain started. Now, how do I write about the next 250 miles? Let's see there was mud, some more mud, and believe it or not we had to ride through more mud. Did I mention how we had to ride through some mud? For those of you who are reading this write up, and have never ridden in the far north part of Alaska, let me explain what we had to ride through. You already know that the road is unpaved, and I mentioned that we were in the mountains; but did I write about the inclines that we had to go up and down in the mud? When they cut the road to Prudhoe Bay, they basically took the shortest route. This means that when they had to go over a hill they pretty much went straight up it and then back down on the other sides. The inclines in the Brooks Range were on the average about 8 percent. That is pretty steep. I remember as we topped the Atigun Pass, and started back down the other side, I remember saying three works "OH MY GOD". What I saw was a steep decent that was pretty much straight down that looked like it was a sheet of mud. It was foggy and there was a steady rain coming down. As I started down, I was pretty sure that I would not make it to the bottom upright. I had the bike in second gear and was praying that the tires would not break free, for if they did it was a long slide down. This decent was about two miles long with a 90-degree turn at the bottom. To my surprise we made it down without any incidents. Before this trip, Chuck and I had a lot of discussions about what tires we would run. We decided on Michelins T-66s. After doing the next 250 miles I was sold on the T-66s. Only once did they really break free in the mud. These tires which already had about 6000 miles on them handled the off road condition better than I could ever imagine. The rest of the way to Coldfoot was uneventful, but it was all mud. Once we arrived at Coldfoot the weather seemed to be trying to clear up, but we were still going through pockets of rain. We gassed up and took a fairly lengthy break at Coldfoot. By this time is was around 2:00 p.m. and we still had about 250 miles to go to get to Fairbanks, so we decided it was time to hit the road again. The sun was out when we left Coldfoot, but by the time we got a few miles down the road, the rain started again. The rest of the way back to Fairbanks was fairly smooth except for one incident. We were a fairly good distance out of Coldfoot and running at a pretty brisk pace. The road conditions were muddy at times but then we would hit some dry sections. While running about 50 miles per hour, I noticed the coloring of the road changed. I then suddenly found that I was running at that speed in mud. The tires were holding, but I could see we were about to go down a hill so I let off the throttle to slow the bike down. I got down to about 20 mph or so when for the first time the rear tire broke free. I did the correction and ended up sort of high siding back in the opposite direction. I went back and forth so long that I remember getting tired of trying to keep the bike up. I knew I was at a fairly slow speed so I made up my mind that I was just going to let the bike go down, and I would pick it up and start all over again. About that time, the bike all of a sudden straighten up. I stopped the bike and was just sitting there trying to get my breath back when Chuck pulled up next to me. I saw he was laughing, and his question to me was "Do you want to wipe you're ass here or do you want to pull off the road first?" He told me it was a pretty good show and he felt for sure I was going to loose it. Of course I had to explain to him this was all skill. We made it the rest of the way to the paved road that leads into Fairbanks without any other incident. Once we got back on a paved rode we felt like we were in heaven. We rode until we came up to a truck stop, which if I remember correctly is named Hill Top Restaurant. It was now around 11:00 p.m. and we were hungry so we stopped and ate. After we finished eating we headed into Fairbanks to get a motel. Now as you would know we would have to pick the weekend in Fairbanks that they were having some big celebration and parade. Every motel we went to was filled up. We ended up finding a room in an old hotel in downtown Fairbanks. The next morning we woke up around 9:00 a.m. to find out the parade was suppose to start at 10:00 a.m. We did not want to stay the rest of the day in downtown Fairbanks, so we broke the record in loading the bikes and getting out of there. We planned on having a down day to do some wash and just generally rest up, so we made the decision to ride to Delta Junction. After we arrived in Delta Junction we checked into a motel and spent the rest of the day doing some wash and generally resting up. After relaxing for a day in Delta Junction, we woke up early with plans to get an early start. The only real bike problem happened when I tried to start my bike. I hit the starter button and the engine turned over once and stopped, the cause, a dead battery. Now, before the trip I thought about the things that may need to be replaced on my bike, the battery was my main concern. I planned on replacing it because it was over two years old, and I felt the end of its time was coming. In the past I have never had a battery last more than a year and a half, so this battery had already lasted six months longer than any battery that I had ever owned. I decided to go ahead and run the battery since it hadn't given me any problems. Well, I made a bad decision. As you can imagine, I was kicking myself in the butt for not replacing the battery. Fortunately, I did have some motorcycle cables, and we were able to jump-start the bike without a problem. The problem that I did have, is that it was Sunday, in the middle of nowhere, and the odds of finding a battery for a BMW was probably slim to none. My options were, to return to Fairbanks where there was a BMW dealer and hope he had one in stock, try to find one that may fit in an auto parts store, or try and make it down into the states where I can get one at a BMW dealer. As it turned out the bike started after it had run a while, so we hoped it would make it back to the states with us just having to jump start it in the mornings. We did stop in several places, and were able to find a couple of batteries that would probably fit, but I didn't like the idea of paying for a battery that I would throw in the trash in the near future. So the decision was made and we headed out. The day was uneventful. We rode at a moderate pace, and wasn't even sure where we would end up that night. We did stop for gas before we crossed the Canadian Border and started a conversation with a couple of riders that were headed north. In our conversation we found out they had come up Canadian Highway 37 and that was the road we planned to go down. We asked about the road conditions, and were told that it was terrible and was nearly impassable. After talking to these riders we felt we couldn't hit anything worse that we had already been through, so it didn't change our plans. This was my second trip to Alaska, and one thing that I found in common is when you meet up with other riders the first part of the conversation starts with, where are you from, and what are the road conditions ahead. For anyone reading this, and is planning on riding up north, I will give you some good advise. Don't ask about the road conditions because the information is never reliable. Everyone has different ideas of what is good or bad, and we have found that what they think is bad, to us is usually not that big of a deal. A good example of this is when we spoke to the riders at the Canadian Boarder about Highway 37, as it turned out we never broke stride while going down it. The construction zones were a piece of cake compared to what we had already been through. I can say one thing, those two riders were in for a big surprise if they thought 37 was bad, what laid ahead of them was ten times worse than what they came through. After leaving Delta Junction we ended up stopping for the night in Haines Junction. This is nothing more than a turn point on the highway that has several motels, and a couple of restaurants. After checking into a motel with the mosquitoes, we decided to eat in the restaurant that adjoins the motel. I didn't pay attention to what kind of restaurant it was, but it turned out to be a Chinese restaurant. Living just outside of Houston, Texas, I have about 10 Chinese restaurants, which are actually owned by Chinese, within two-miles of my house. Since I like Chinese food, I was quite pleased when I found out what kind of restaurant it was. Well, things up north don't always turn out to be what they are. The only thing that was Chinese about this restaurant was its name. It had some Chinese sounding things on the menu, but when you got what you ordered, it didn't look like any Chinese food that I have ever eaten. It was not bad food, but it was quite unique. The next morning we headed out of Haines Junction planning on making it to Watson Lake before the end of the day. We stopped at Whitehorse and ate breakfast and checked out some local motorcycle shops to see if they had a battery for my bike, which they didn't. My bike was still starting after the initial jump-start in the mornings, but with each start it was getting weaker. I still had hopes of making it back to the states before it completely went out. After breakfast we left Whitehorse heading towards Watson Lake. We were a couple of hundred miles out of Whitehorse when I suddenly saw an arm sticking up from the grass on the side of the road. This caught me by surprise, but I was able to stop fairly quickly. I found a man lying in the tall grass. It was quite obvious that he was injured. It turned out he had a badly broken leg, so I yelled to Chuck to head down to the next roadhouse and get some help. Luckly the next roadhouse was just a couple of miles down the road and it turned out this guy was an employee there. When I found the guy he was covered from head to toe with mosquitoes. I grabbed my can of Off and told him to close his eyes, and I sprayed about a half of can on him. I then used some on me, for the mosquitoes were starting to tear me up. It turned out the guy was injured while riding his three wheel ATV. He tried to climb an embankment next to the road and it flipped back over on him. He had to crawl about 100 feet up the embankment with a broken leg to flag us down. Looking at his leg there was no doubt it was broken. While we were waiting, the guy told me that he was in a great deal of pain and asked if I would go down to his ATV and get a can of beer that he had to see if it would dull the pain. I told the guy that the beer was probably the cause of his problem, and having seen that kind of injury before I knew he would need some surgery, so he shouldn't drink any kind of alcohol. Plus I had no intention of wading through that mosquito infested grass, down a muddy embankment, to get a beer somebody else was going to drink. Hell, if I went after it I was going to drink it. Chuck arrived with some help, so we assisted in loading the guy into the back of a pickup. We then got back on the road heading towards Watson Lake. We arrived at Watson Lake around 6:00 p.m. that evening. We gassed up the bikes and decided to stay in a lodge type motel that was about ten miles outside of Watson Lake at the intersection of the Alaskan Highway and Canadian Highway 37. After we checked in, we decided to eat at a restaurant that was on site there. The night before it was Chinese, this time it appeared to be Russian. The soup of the day was borsch, so Chuck asked me if I knew what this was. I explained to him it was soup that was made from beets, and I have heard that it is a main staple food in Russia. Chuck then asked me if I had ever had any, and I told him I had tried some a few years back, and to the best if my memory I wasn't too impressed with it. We both decided to order some borsch, and after eating it I recalled why I wasn't impressed with it. I don't remember what else I ordered, but in all I don't recall it being bad. All I can remember is the food there, as well as everywhere else on the Alaskan Highway carries a high price. I guess this is to be expected, due to the distance the products need to be shipped. The next morning we pulled out of the motel around 5:00 a.m. Of course, it was drizzling rain. Our plan for the day was to make it to Hyder, Alaska to get Hyderized. We hit several construction zones on the way, and even though the weather cleared up a bit we still had to contend with the mud. These construction zones were a breeze compared to what we had already ridden through. To get to Hyder, Alaska, which is the southern most city, driveable to in Alaska, you'll have to take a short road off of Canadian Highway 37. The road is only about 40 miles long, and it leads to Stewart, Canada, and as soon as you cross the border you enter Hyder. As it turned out this short road, (37-A), turned out to be one of the most scenic roads of the trip. As you ride over a small hill you suddenly come upon a glacier. This was a big surprise to me, for it was the last thing I expected to see. After stopping and taking a few pictures we continued on to Hyder. Hyder is nothing more than a dirt street with a few buildings that don't appear to be less than 50 years old. We stopped at the first bar, aptly named, the "Glacier Inn", which had a sign out front that stated this is where you get Hyderized. This was the reason we were there so we parked the bikes and went inside. There were two customers and a little gal tending the bar. I wish I had a picture of her face when I walk in, slammed my hand on the bar, and told her that I just rode ten thousand miles to get Hyderized. For the ones who don't know me I'll try to paint a visual picture. As I mentioned earlier I stand 6 1/2' tall and weigh a bit over three hundred pounds. My hair was cut short for the trip, and I haven't shaved in over two weeks. I was wearing the largest Darien jacket made, with blue jeans and Corbin boots that still had plenty of Prudhoe Bay mud on them. Chuck is about 6'3" tall, weights just under 200 pounds, bald headed and hadn't shaved for about the same amount of time as me. I think Chuck was covered with more mud than I was. When this gal saw us, I think her eyeballs grew about three times larger than normal, and figured that trouble had arrived. I have a feeling she was moving towards the phone to call for help because she was sure backing away from us as quick as she could. I guess my smile won her over because she informed us we were in the right place and told us to cough up three dollars apiece if we wanted to get Hyderized. Well, we put the money on the bar, and we were properly Hyderized. Now, if you want to know what you have to do to get Hyderized, then you need to ride to Hyder and find out. We ended up staying in Stewart, Canada for the night, mostly for the fact that after we were Hyderized, we decided to have a few drinks. The next morning we headed out bright and early. We didn't have a clue how far we would get, but by this time my battery was really going south quickly, our intentions were to try to get to the BMW dealer at Post Falls, Idaho as soon as possible. We rode 37-A back to 37, where we continued south until we reached Highway 16. We then went east on 16 to Prince George where we turned onto Highway 97. We stayed on 97 until we stopped for the night in Clinton, Canada. The ride was uneventful and extremely boring. The next morning we figured we could make it to Post Falls by early afternoon. We headed out and took some back roads, which ended up crossing into the U.S. at Osoyoos, Canada. The crossing into the U.S. was without delay, but by this time my battery had taken a total dump and every time I turned the bike off we had to jump-start it. Needless to say, I quit turning the bike off and just kept it running through gas and other stops. We decided to take a small detour to see the Coulee Dam. It was a big thing, but I was a bit disappointed because I was expecting to see something the size of the Hoover Dam. After leaving the Coulee Dam we took the most direct route to Post Falls. We arrived in Post Falls around 1:00 p.m. Not sure where the BMW dealer was, we stopped at a pay phone and asked for directions. The name of the BMW dealer at Post Falls is Beaudry Motor Sports. They were very accommodating, they had the tires and a battery charged ready to install. I would like to mention they held the tires, and charged the battery after a phone call I made. They never asked me for a credit card number, and I'm not sure they even had my name. If I had tried this with the dealer near my house, who I have been a customer with for many years, I would have to send a pint of blood, my credit report, three references and secure the purchase with a major credit card before they would put a battery on the charger. Matter of fact, I would bet the battery would still be in the box and dry when I arrived even after doing all the above. The Service Manager told us that he could put the tires on right a way, but he could only do one bike at a time due to his other mechanics being tied up on other jobs. This turned out to be OK, since I needed to install my battery. They took Chuck's bike in and by the time they had his rear tire on, I had installed my battery and was ready for my rear tire to be put on. Thirty minutes later we were back on the road. Before leaving Chuck and I sort of looked at each other trying to figure out where we were going to go. This was the end of our planned route, so we had to decide which route we wanted to take. We knew we didn't want to do anymore interstate than we had to so we decided to take U.S. Highway 95 south out of Coeur d'Alene, Idaho. This turned out to be a fairly scenic drive, and we ended up stopping for the night in Lewiston, Idaho. That night we decided we would go through Colorado on the way home. We figured it would be cooler in the high country, and we also knew we had about 700 mile or more of New Mexico and Texas heat to ride through before making it home. We pulled out of Lewiston before daylight. We continued south on 95, which ended up running along the Salmon River. This was very scenic and I would have had a heck of a good time if it wasn't for my front tire being cupped, and the rear shock blown. By this time my bike was handling like a log truck. We stayed on 95 until we hit State Highway 55, which led into Boise. We took 55 and ended up connecting with Interstate 84. We decided to take I-84 east to Salt Lake City where we would then take U.S. 40 into Colorado. As we were traveling on I-84 nearing the Utah State Line, I noticed some signs warning that sudden frequent dust storms occur in the area. This didn't surprise me too much because for the last 30 to 40 miles I have been watching what I though were rain clouds, but as we got closer turned out to be a big dust storm. Chuck was leading at this time, and we had no choice but to keep going. My thoughts were, we've ridden through almost every type of weather condition so what's a little dust. As we headed into the storm I lost sight of Chuck. We had strong cross winds that I would have to guess were greater than forty miles an hour. At times the gusts would be so strong it would actually push me into the left lane. At one point I suddenly came into a pocket of still air, sort of like the eye of a storm. Looking ahead I saw a tumble weed shoot across the road that appeared like it was moving 80 miles an hour. I know it wasn't going that fast, but it sure looked like it. When I saw this I knew I was about to get slammed, so I put the bike on the solid white line next to the right side emergency lane, checked to make sure no vehicle was coming up on my left side, and waited. I didn't have long to wait. When the wind hit, it struck like a truck. I was pushed so far into the left lane I just about crossed the left emergency lane white line. With a lot of leaning and some more gas I was able to get the bike back over to the right lane. We rode the rest of the way to Ogden, Utah, where we stopped for the night. We checked into a motel that had seen better days, but it was cheap. The female clerk asked us if we wanted a smoking or non-smoking room. Chuck informed her that as long as the air conditioning worked and the toilet flushed it didn't make a difference. The girl started laughing, but Chuck told her that he was serious. Chuck pointed at me and told her the first thing I was going to do when we got to the room was turn on the air to make sure it worked, go to the restroom flush the toilet to make sure it would flush before we start unloading the bikes. The girl started laughing and said there wouldn't be any problems. She shouldn't have laughed. When we got to our room I check the air conditioner and it worked. I then went to the restroom and flushed the toilet and guess what, it didn't flush. The reason I do this is because I have been caught short a couple of times in motels where the toilet wouldn't flush and when reporting it I was told there was no maintenance man to fix it and they had no other rooms to give out. To eliminate this problem I always check those two things. I walked back to the office and informed the clerk the toilet didn't flush. I think she first thought I was kidding, but I guess I had this serious look on my face so she gave us another room. The second room did not have the same problem as the first room so we figured it would work for the night. There is a restaurant located next to the motel, so we ate there instead of getting back on the bikes and riding some place else. We went over to the restaurant and found out we were two of five customers in the place. It was an extremely large restaurant and looked like it could handle several hundred customers. It was about 6:00 p.m. on a Friday night so we were a little concerned about the quality of food we might be getting. We talked about it and figured we have eaten in worse looking places, so we decided to stick it out. We placed our order with the one and only waitress. We then became concerned when the waitress came back to us a few minutes later informing us it may take awhile to get our food because she couldn't find the cook. This turned out to be quite hilarious because she would periodically call out his name, when receiving no response she would go to the back door, open it, and yell out his name. This show went on for about 15 or 20 minutes until the cook showed up. I never did find out where he was, and in hindsight I really didn't want to know. The meal turned out not so bad. We were on the rode the next morning around 5:00 a.m. We took the long way around Salt Lake City and caught U.S. Highway 40. We then headed east on 40 towards Colorado. We stayed on Highway 40 until we crossed into Colorado where we turned south onto Colorado State Highway 64 headed towards Rangely. Just outside of Rangely we turned south onto State Highway 139 which we took into Grand Junction. When we arrived at Grand Junction we headed south on U.S. 50. We stayed on U.S. 50 through Gunnison until we came to State Highway 149. Up to this point, the raods were ones we had taken on previous trips, but Highway 149 was new to us. This turned out to be a very scenic road. We ended up in South Fork, Colorado for the night. We decided to get an early start the next day, which ended up being out last day on the road. We rode from South Fork to Houston in one day. The day was long and hot, and of course, we encountered rain at Abilene. When we stopped for gas the clerk told us it hadn't rained for three months. As our luck would have it, we were riding through on a day it rained like a hurricane. Chuck split off at Caldwell, Texas heading for his home near New Waverly. I rode the rest of the way into Houston, arriving at home around 12:30 a.m. It was a great trip and the total mileage turned out to be around 12300 miles for an 18-day journey. I have been asked if I would do this ride again. If this question were asked me within a few days of my returning home, I would have said "no". Now that some time has passed, well, maybe. |
||
| Back to Stories Menu | ||
|
Copyright © 2005-2008 BMW Club of Houston, Ltd. and respective authors and contributors. All rights reserved. This material is for personal use only. Republication and redissemination, including posting to news groups, is expressly prohibited without the prior written consent of the BMW Club of Houston, Ltd.
Disclaimer: The BMW Club of Houston links to external Web sites and eMail addresses that help us perform our mission-"The BMW Club of Houston connects the BMW motorcycle community in the Greater Houston area and around the state." Links to external Web sites and eMail addresses do not imply any official endorsement of the opinions or ideas or activities expressed therein, nor guarantee the validity of the information provided. Links to external Web sites and eMail addresses are in no way an endorsement of any vendor’s products or services. Web site created and maintained by FYI-Media, 713.892.8394 |
||