“Tell me, what is it you plan to
do with your one wild and precious life?”
Mary Oliver
When I tell people that I plan to ride my motorcycle from Anchorage
to the Arctic Ocean, and then back home, they usually ask three questions. The first question they ask is “How far is that?”. I tell them it is about 5,000 miles, but
depending on which way I go, the mileage may change. They generally respond with “that is a long
way. Does your butt hurt?”.The second question that I get is “Who are you going
with”. I tell them that I am going by
myself. Have you ever asked someone if
they want to ride 5,000 miles on a motorcycle to the Arctic Ocean? If you did,
you probably did not get many takers, just as I did. A couple of years ago, I
joined a Meetup group in San Diego dedicated to going to Alaska as a group. After
several meetings, it became apparent that about everyone in the group had a
different idea of what it was to ride to Alaska, with many varying opinions on the
time of year,
duration, and ultimately the route. The group quickly abandoned and people went
their own ways. I learned from my Alaska
group experience, that if I want to go to Alaska, then I would need to plan and
go on my own. The third question that I get is “Are you not scared to be by
yourself?”. The answer to that question
is “absolutely not”. If you ever wanted
not to be lonely, then ride a motorcycle across the country. When you are by
yourself, people feel that it is okay to strike up a conversation with you about
any topic that automagically pops into their heads. You could be filling up the
motocycle’s gas tank in Oklahoma, and someone will come up to you and start
asking questions about where you are from and where you are going. And when people do start talking, they just
do not stop. Often, you must jump on your bike and take off, only to look
behind you and see that they are still talking. Well, that last part might be an exaggeration,
but most conversations extends well beyond the norm.
Today, I am flying out of Orange County into Anchorage,
where I will pick up my Suzuki DL650 that I shipped to Anchorage several weeks
ago. I worked with Tyler at “Orange
County Craters” to crate my bike, and find a shipper to get my bike from Orange
to Anchorage. After the bike was crated, the first part of my bike’s journey
was by truck to Seattle. From there, the
bike went via barge to Alaska. If you
want to get something to Alaska, then you need to get it to Seattle, where it
will be loaded on to a ship or barge.
After I get my bike, I will stay overnight in Anchorage. I will then go to Fairbanks the next day and
stay the night. From there I will start
North on the Dalton Highway, also known as the “ice road” or the “Haul
Highway”. The plan is to stop in Coldfoot
overnight, and then head to Deadhorse the next day, where I will stay the
night. The next morning, I will take the
Arctic tour, which is a bus that takes you to the Arctic Ocean, via the oil
fields. You cannot get to the Arctic
Ocean at Deadhorse without an official tour, and you cannot take the tour until
they do a security check on you. Once I complete the Arctic Tour, then I will head back South
stopping at Coldfoot and Fairbanks along the way. I have not really planned any
stops after Fairbanks. I will just wing it as I go through Alaska, Canada and
the continental USA. My plan is to be
back home on September 9th, and back to work on the 11th.
I have been planning this trip for some time. I probably started
visualizing the ride sometime after I started riding a motorcycle 6 years ago. I have taken a number of long distance rides
while preparing for this trip. I have
ridden across the USA several times and done motorcycle camping, which I will
also do on this trip. I had planned to do the Alaska trip last summer, but
family priorities prohibited me from executing the plan. I chose going over the Labor Day weekend,
instead of the 4th of July and Memorial day holidays. August should
still be good for the trip, yet it does tend to rain more as September nears. The jet appears to go down low well in advance of the
Anchorage airport. I see the coast line of inlets covered in a grey overcast.
The rain is steaking over the windows of the jet. I dread picking up the bike
and getting through a new city while it is raining. The airport in Anchorage looks brand new and
has the same feel as the Minneapolis airport. I quickly retrieve my checked
bags and grab a taxi to the warehouse that has my bike.
The warehouse folk have been expecting me. I am taken into the warehouse and asked to
sign papers. I tell the guy “I have not seen the bike, how do I know it is not
in pieces”. He says he will fix the
documentation if that is the case. He then starts to walk away. I say “Wait, but where is the
motorcycle?”. He says “Oh yea.” He opens the side door to the warehouse and
says “Out there”. I look out into the
warehouse yard, and not seeing the bike I ask “Where?”. He says “Way out there. See it?”.
I look to the end of the warehouse yard and there is the bike out in the
open in the rain. I walk to the bike and
noticed that the bike is pointed into a rack.
When I get the bike out, then I will not be able to move forward because
I will hit the rack Just then a fork lift comes by and I quickly ask the driver
to turn the pallet with my bike around so I can get out. It has been
raining and the wood is very wet, which makes removing the 2” screws difficult
with my $7 electric screwdriver. I figure out that it will probably take at
least an hour to remove all the screws just to get one side of the crate down. The
driver runs off and comes back with an electric screwdriver, and he just starts
to remove screws at a very rapid rate. In a few minutes, he had removed all the
screws. We remove the plastic covering and I find that the left mirror has been
removed. I just on the bike and find that the wood wheel chocks, in both the front
and rear are massive. The driver pulls
the bike and I push and we get the bike out after much effort. I turn the
battery back on and start the engine. I hand the driver my electric screw
driver and a $20 bill, which he declines, but I insist he take since I do not
want to carry the weight. He finally
accepts the items and I ride off. He does and then comes
over to see what I am up to.
The “in theory” ten minute ride to the hotel is pure
hell. I go down the street and
immediately run into a mile long train. I turn around and start ignoring the
GPS. I quickly find that many streets
are one way and I must go the wrong way and then make a u-turn. This all becomes very difficult because I do
not have a left rear view mirror. I make big left turn hand signals because
with the heavy 4:00 PM traffic, I am not sure If anyone is really in my left
lane. I finally get down to the main
highway, only to find that the turn has been shut down due to construction. I
must once again go the wrong way and do a reverse turn. I finally make it to the hotel. The good news is they let me park the bike
under the canopy of the hotel. The other
good news is there is a restaurant and bar on my floor.
duration, and ultimately the route. The group quickly abandoned and people went
their own ways. I learned from my Alaska
group experience, that if I want to go to Alaska, then I would need to plan and
go on my own. The third question that I get is “Are you not scared to be by
yourself?”. The answer to that question
is “absolutely not”. If you ever wanted
not to be lonely, then ride a motorcycle across the country. When you are by
yourself, people feel that it is okay to strike up a conversation with you about
any topic that automagically pops into their heads. You could be filling up the
motocycle’s gas tank in Oklahoma, and someone will come up to you and start
asking questions about where you are from and where you are going. And when people do start talking, they just
do not stop. Often, you must jump on your bike and take off, only to look
behind you and see that they are still talking. Well, that last part might be an exaggeration,
but most conversations extends well beyond the norm.
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