Day 3. Alaska Ride 2017: Fairbanks, Alaska

I take off and stop for some gas on the outskirts of Fairbanks. I fill the tank and decide to put a little gas in the jerry can as a test to see what happens, as I have never used the can before. Just before I get on the bike I notice a pool of gas forming under my pannier. I am confused as to where the gas is coming from since the fuel tank and jerry can are not close to the pool.  Upon further investigation, I find that there are three little holes in the bottom back of the jerry can causing the gas to squirt out about 2 feet. Horrified, I start to panic because I need this can to get me through the last stretch of road from Coldfoot to Prudhoe Bay, which is 245 miles without gas. I put on some superglue and gorilla tape as these are the only things that I have available to me. The gas stops leaking. I reverse the can on the mount so that the holes are now at the top of the can, and the can is upside down. Off I go.

The Elliot highway is paved and easy to ride. Finally, I arrive at the Dalton highway and the road immediately turns to dirt.  I keep my wits about me as best as I can, because there is something going on around each corner. Eighteen-wheelers, tourist buses, road crews, cutting crews, construction and just plain weird sections of road.  I approach the Yukon river and start down the bridge which is about a quarter mile long angled to the other side of the river. I get about a quarter of the way across and realize that the wet wooden planks of the bridge are super slippery. Hitting the brakes causes the bike to slide, but you must hit the brakes since the bridge is pointing down and the bike left unchecked is picking up speed. Crossing the Yukon is just plain scary, because the river is a long, long way down and the river looks wider than the Mississippi at the Iowa crossing: I just did not know how scary it was until on I was actually on the bridge, which is probably a good thing for now. Unfortunately, I need to go back to cross it again on the return trip.   I make it to the other side without falling into the Yukon and head to the service center for some food and gas.

The Dalton is everything I have read about. It is mostly dirt, with patches of paving. You get going on the pavement, go over the crest of a hill and suddenly it is dirt or gravel. There must have been 25 patches of gravel that were freshly dumped upon the highway, the crews still spreading out the gravel. The gravel patches were concerning, because I was not sure what they were hiding: there must have been a good reason they dumped gravel on the road at that point.

I had a super great lunch, where I was served a delicious salmon soup. The lady serving was very proud of it, saying it had coconut and other interesting ingredients in it: I just loved it.  I continue on the Dalton until I get to the Arctic Circle, where there is the Arctic Circle sign: go figure.  I find that a tour bus is there with 20 people taking their pictures. I wait in line and a BLM volunteer takes my pictures. I ask her how many tour buses she gets, and she says that they get about 10 smaller buses and 3 large buses during the day. Before arriving at the sign, I have visions of me having difficulties taking a picture by myself:  I had no idea the sign was a major tourist trap.   I continue on and reach Coldfoot camp at about 5:00 PM, all the while it continues to rain and coat my bike and myself with mud. 

I stop at the Inter-agency center before going to the hotel. The ranger has the latest weather report for Atigun pass, and it is not good news.  The report shows up to 4 inches of snow in the next 24 hours, and temperatures in the low 30s. The storm front that has come in will continue until Tuesday. You must go over Atigun pass to get to Prudhoe Bay. The ranger will not make recommendations and gives only snippets of insight as to what has happened to others in the past. He says a trucker just came over the pass and said that there was “ice on the top of the pass, but it was gone as he descended”.  I am not a big fan of riding a motorcycle on ice: two wheeled vehicles tend to fall over on ice. A lady ranger then says “What you need to watch out for is the eighteen wheelers. They start to slide, and then they can crash right into you.”.   The guy ranger then says “The Atigun pass is something that you do not fool with.  It is better to be cautious”.  That pretty much did it for me, as I was not ready to die in order to get to Prudhoe Bay.  I check into my room, which is really just a cell in a long trailer, and crash for a bit before going to dinner.  The “hotel” room is interesting, as it is about 10 by 20 foot long with 2 single beds, a shower and a sink. The room smells of diesel fumes, but it is dry and for now, and it is home.

 

I decide to go for the all you can eat buffet, as there are no other options at Coldfoot Camp. I fill my plate and wander into the bar area, where there is one seat left at the end of the bar. A few minutes after I sit down the room is packed with people, and I soon realize they are all staring at the TV screen at the front of the bar, which is showing “initializing UFC”: the big fight is tonight.   There is a guy running up to the corner of the room with his iPhone, which is attached to the TV.  He is trying all kinds of things to stream the big fight on the TV, but apparently it is not working. To my right is a guy that says the internet is not going to work, and to not get my hopes up. Apparently, in Coldfoot there is only a satellite internet connection, that is marginal at best. The guy laughs and says “I made the mistake when I started staying here and purchased the week-long internet package. What a mistake, I could not get anything. What a waste of money”.  They try to get the fight on the TV for the next hour and it never happens. People slowly drift out of the bar.  In the meantime, the beers are flying out of the cooler. The bar keep tells us that he arranges the beers on two sides of the cooler. The beers on the left are the beers for the tourists. They are “local craft beers” made by a brewery in Fairbanks. The guy sitting next to me laughs and says “craft beer, ha.  They just charge more.”  The craft beers are $5.25 and the other regular beers or the right side of the cooler are $4.75.  Regular beers, such as Miller are for the workers and truckers.  Two young guys on my left are hanging out drinking beer while waiting for the fight? One of the young guys asks me “Did you actually choose to come to Coldfoot?” In order to avoid a bar full of people pointing and laughing at me, I tell him that “I was just passing through”, which is a kind of stupid thing to say since the road is a dead-end.  I ask him where he is from, and he says “Anchorage, but we travel all over the state doing work”.  Shortly after, he and the other young guy get up, not before he reaches over and shakes my hand and says “good luck”.  I also call it a night and head to my room.