Scooter Wanderlust

2010-09-16T20:07:00.000-07:00

It's Thursday, 16 September and I have given up the idea that I can catch up before Cannonball is over. It's mainly due to poor time management and a chronic netbook keyboard gremlin. I hope to get it all sorted out and resume updating soon. Big thanks to all who've sent messages of support and encouragement!

In the mean time, many of thses folks are updating their Cannonball blogs fairly regularly. Take a look at the ride from their perspective if you've got time.

Cynthia (Bodacious)

Pistol Pete

Oz (TheO.Z.)

David (feb31st)

Brian (bklwashere)

Mogeewogee

BillyComeLately

Starr (starreem)

ScooterMe

Karen G.

Bagel

Geoff (HelixGeoff)

2010-09-07T10:56:00.001-07:00

[My roommate for Cannonball just arrived and very generously allowed me to use her netbook since mine is misbehaving. Thanks, Starr!!!]

Sunday, 22 August 2010 – Denali National Park to Anchorage – 245.5 miles

There were three things I hoped to do today: (1) see Mt. McKinley, (2) attend the sled dog demonstration at Denali Kennel, and (3) ride to Anchorage.

Seeing The High One proved more difficult than I thought. I mean, it's 20,320 feet tall. That's almost 4 miles from the base to the peak. I ought to be able to see that, right? Last night, the bus driver told me I might get a peek at it if I ride out to Savage River or one of nearby the viewpoints. "In the morning," he said, "After 7:30 or so. But before 11. It might be clear."

It definitely was not clear when I got up. My camp neighbor said the weather was expected to be cloudy all day. Dang! She also said that of the 5 times she and her family had been to the park, not once was the mountain in view. I learned later you should consider yourself lucky if you actually see Denali. The mountain is so tall it makes its own severe, unpredictable weather. During the summer months, it's only visible about 20% of the time, making the questions "Is the mountain out today?" a very common one.

The sled dog demonstrations are held three times a day. I could have made the 10am but decided to ride over to the visitor center campus and take a look at the bookstore, the museum and the science center. It was well worth it! There are very informative displays, exhibits and film presentations. There's lots to learn here. Plus, there are ranger-led hikes and talks, as well as the evening campfire programs. And it's gorgeous. I could easily have spent a week or more taking it all in.

The bus to the kennels departed at 1:30. There were four bus loads of visitors. (Our driver said this was quite common as the dogs were especially popular with children.)

These Alaskan huskies, more simply known as sled dogs, are bred for specific characteristics: a thick two-layer coat, long legs for breaking trail through deep snow, tough feet with close pads, speed, endurance, a great work ethic and a friendly demeanor. Since they are not bread for a specific look, there is a wide variation in their appearance. Something else I thought was interesting – about a third of the dogs have blue eyes, the rest have brown eyes. Occasionally there are dogs that have one blue eye and one brown eye. Cool!

The kennel typically houses about 30 dogs. The number may vary slightly depending on how many puppies are born and how many older dogs are retired. They usually have new litter of about 3 to 5 pups in the spring or summer. The eight- or nine-year old dogs are retired and adopted out to park staff or visitors who live in a northern climate. They just had 3 pups about a month ago. They were snuggled in their house with their mom, so we couldn't get a photo.

Dogs have been a part of Denali for over 70 years. They are canine ambassadors during the summer months, putting on demonstrations like the one I saw. During the winter months they return to their real work with the rangers: hauling equipment and supplies, setting trails, monitoring park borders, assisting mountaineers, etc.

I rode back to the Mercantile because it was the only place in the park with WiFi. I sent a few quick e-mails and looked for a place to stay in Anchorage. Many of the hotels, motels and hostels were already booked for the night. Who knew Anchorage was such a hot spot on a Sunday night?! I finally found a hostel with one bed open. Whew! Now all I have to do is get there.

I was almost ready to go when three riders pulled into the lot - one KLR and these two BMWs.

One of the BMWs belonged to Amir. He's a physician, originally from South Africa and currently living in Prince Rupert. The other BMW belonged to his South African school chum who also became a physician and recently moved to Prince Rupert (which struck me as kinda funny). The KLR rider was a fellow they met on the ferry. That happens a lot - riders meet, chat, find they have a common destination and end up riding together. Sometimes for a couple of hours, sometimes for days. Anyway, Amir said their time was short (only 10 days) so they only rode to the Arctic Circle. That's still a pretty good ride, if you ask me! I hope you send me the video of your ride through the Rockies, Amir. Sounds like that was quite an adventure, too!

It was later than I thought when I finally headed out of the park toward Anchorage. The good news is I saw an igloo. Not a real one, and it was tattered, but still, an igloo.

I stopped briefly at yet another turn-out hoping for a glimpse of Mt. McKinley's peak from the George Parks Highway. I'd have to settle for the base and the information plaque.

I also stopped briefly to see if I could help a couple with a lovely yellow Harley Davidson. Their rear tire was flat. They had those shiny spoked rims (and tubed tires), so my plug kit was no help. Their phones were dead and holding all the phone numbers, so my phone was no help either. Oh, well. At least the tow service was on the way. I was happy to hear from them later - they got back to Fairbanks safe and sound.

The clouds were clearing and made for a very dramatic sunset at around 10:30pm.

I rode through Wasilla and took this photo for Liz and Julie. I looked among all the roadside political posters for "Levi for Mayor (or Governor, Senator or President)" but found none. Sorry, ladies. This is the best I could do.

It was very late and dark by the time I got to Anchorage. I was lucky that the fellow from the hostel was still there to answer my distress call. I had either missed a turn or taken a wrong turn and had no idea where I was. He gave me clear directions and even offered to drive to my location so I could follow him back. His directions were so simple and straightforward that I assured him i'd be there shortly. And when I rode up, he was standing in front waving at me. He also helped me get the scooter in the back yard - a more secure location for over-night parking.

The hostel was kind of like a fraternity house. Lots of people up and about late at night. And not the cleanest place I've been. But it was only for one night and every one was friendly. I took a shower (with my shower shoes on!), climbed into my top bunk and went to sleep.

Getting back to blog updates at last!

2010-09-06T13:31:00.000-07:00

There's something whacky going on with my netbook's keyboard, so this may take longer than I thought. Thanks, all, for your patience!

2010-09-03T09:04:00.000-07:00

Today is Friday, September 3rd and I am waaaaay behind in blog updates.

The scooter and I are just fine. We're in Seattle. The scooter is getting serviced and I'm getting ready to head up to the rally in Vancouver. I promise to bring this blog up-to-date before Cannonball starts.

2010-08-26T19:16:00.000-07:00

Saturday, 21 August 2010 – stayed in Denali – 3.1 miles

I purposely selected a tent site near the road. I knew some campers would be up early to break camp and ride down this very road fairly early in the morning. Since I had no alarm, I figured those early-risers would be my wake-up call. And I had a 9am reservation for the bus up to Eielson Visitor Center. (Private vehicles are not allowed this far into the park.)

The bus ride was long and the driver was entertaining. He’d been driving in the park for 22 years and seemed to know everything. Plus, he had a good sense of humor. He stopped for every wildlife sighting so we could all get photos of “the big 5,”

Moose

Caribou

Dall sheep

Bears

Rounding out the big 5 are wolves. Unfortunately, we didn’t spot any of them.

Of course, the main reason we all were there was to see Mt. McKinley, Denali, the High One. Unfortunately it never did come out from behing the clouds completely. Here’s two pics where you can barely see the north summit peeking out. There are clouds above and below and the peak is snow-capped so it’s very hard to see.

The Eielson Visitor Center is fascinating. They have many of the works of the past “Artist-in-Residence.” Each residency takes place during a ten day period between June and September. Denali National Park and Preserve provides the use of the historic East Fork Cabin (also known as the Murie Cabin) at Mile 43 on the Park Road. The artist is responsible for their own food and transportation. No stipend is provided. In exchange for the use of the cabin, each artist is expected to donate one art piece to the park and offer at least one public presentation. (For example, a slide lecture, demonstration, or workshop.) These artists come to the park and leave at least one piece with the center. (I looked into it - can you tell. It's really got me thinking . . .)

One of my favorites was a 4-section quilt. It is hand-dyed, dye-painted, stamped, resisted, silk-screened and stenciled. It is machine pieced and quilted. And it's huge! Congratulations to the artist, Ree Nancarrow, for a job very well done!

My other favorite is also textile art. The scale is smaller but it is nothing short of spectacular. It looks like a painting but it's appliqué and trapunto. I'm sorry I forgot to note the artist name.

There was one other piece that I found captivating. It looked like an art piece located outside the visitor center. It is the intertwined antlers of two bull moose. The plaque “Locked for All Time” reads, in part:
"In 2003 near Moose Creek, two massive bull moose clashed in an effort to establish dominance and earn the right to mate. Heads down, they forced their antlers together and engaged their considerable heft to earn surrender from the other. At some point in the battle, their antlers locked. One tine pierced the eye socket of the other. And so they remained on the tundra until death called for both." Yowza - that must have been some fight!

I spent so long at the center and on the nature trails that I took a later bus back to Denali Visitor Center. We saw more caribou, moose and sheep but I was more taken with the rivers and streams and the changing colors on the hillsides.

As I walked backed to my campsite, I saw something I haven’t seen in a long time – a moonrise. Nice.

2010-08-26T13:46:00.000-07:00

Friday, 20 August 2010 – Fairbanks to Denali National Park and Preserve – 136.4 miles

I had lollygagged in Fairbanks long enough. It was time to head out for Denali. I had one more (one last?) hot bowl of soup and said goodbyes and farewells all around.

I rode to the gas station before I loaded up all the gear. WOW, this handles nicely! I’d forgotten how nimble and flickable this GTS can be. It certainly has been a workhorse on this trip. It's been lugging me and about 100 extra pounds of gear under very difficult conditions. I patted it gently as I rode back to the hostel.

For the first time there were motorcycles sharing the parking area. Two fellows had just arrived. One was Brazilian and the other was from the UK. As I loaded the scooter and they tinkered with their bikes, we talked about the road conditions on the way up to Prudhoe Bay and about their travel adventures. They were on a similar trip as the English boys I had just left in the kitchen. As soon as they finished oil changes and other minor maintenance, they said they’d compare notes with the others. They wished me well and I rode off.

There are some beautiful views from the George Parks Highway (Alaska 3). Loops have been added so tourists like me don’t stop on the road and block traffic while trying to get a photo of those lovely views. The problem is there’s a lot of tall trees alongside all the loops, making it impossible to capture the view.

Denali is only about 150 miles from Fairbanks, so I had plenty of time to take all the turn-outs and admire the scenery for as long as I pleased. At one, I met Alice and Jesse from North Carolina. They rented an RV and were cruising along, too.

I had to turn around and take a photo of this tribute.

The owner of the towing company noticed me pulling onto his property and he turned back to find out why. Mr. A. P. McDonald rolled up in this rig.

We talked for quite a while before we both decided we were wasting a perfectly gorgeous sunny day by talking about pets, families and riding. No more talking. Let’s ride! He turned off the highway with a wave and I continued on. I crossed the Tanana River on the Alaska Native Veterans’ Honor Bridge. There have been a bunch of cool bridges so far!

And, of course, there were the inevitable traffic delays.

Another cool bridge this time over the Nenana River

Just before the park entrance is a section the locals call Glitter Gulch. There are lots of shops selling jewelry, local handicrafts, t-shirts, etc. There was a quilt shop that I had to visit (and buy some fat quarters). And there’s Denali Harley-Davidson. It made me laugh because there are no motorcycles for sale just t-shirts, stickers, etc. The young clerk didn’t even look up from her Blackberry when I walked around.

My destination was just a short ride away.

I got a campsite at Riley Creek campground and a bus ticket to ride to the interior of the park the following day. I stayed at Riley Creek Mercantile for a little while, using their WiFi connection to send a few quick e-mails when a park ranger and a bunch of campers showed up. Dark clouds were threatening rain so they relocated from the outdoor amphitheater. Lucky me. The ranger gave a very informative talk on the animals found in the park. He had pelts of most of them (confiscated from poachers) as well as antlers and horns.

This is a grizzly bear pelt.

After the ranger talk, I found a campsite, set up the tent and went to bed.

2010-08-21T22:40:00.000-07:00

Thursday, 19 August 2010 – stayed put in Fairbanks, rested up and waited out the rain - 0 miles

I really didn't do anything today except update this blog and make a few phone calls. Oh, and take a shower. A really long, hot shower.

I saw Tim, Tom and Phil. They're happy about the fuel filter repair holding up. (or at least it seems to. Fingers crossed it stays that way!) They're going to try to wash off some of the mud. I should, too. I did clean the rear turn indicators, brake light and license plate. The lights I wiped clean for safety reasons, the plate because I was told I may get ticketed. The rest I'm kind of afraid to mess with. It might be the glue that's holding everything together at this point.

It's going to be hard to leave here tomorrow. Not just because the bed is comfortable and the tent is cozy. I've met some really nice people here. Like Jennifer and Todd (I hope I got that right). They're from Juneau and every trip they explore another part of Alaska. This time they're hiking to Gates of the Arctic National Park with inflatable rafts in their backpacks. Then they're going to float for a while. Sounds like great fun! I'll miss bumping into Tim, Tom and Phil, too. At least I'll get to keep track of them through their blog.

Here they are in the community kitchen. Aren't they adorable?! Wait. Not adorable. Funny, smart, handsome . . . No, that wasn't it either. I forget now.
Anyway, here's the boys: Phil, Tom and Tim.

2010-08-21T21:34:00.000-07:00

Wednesday, 18 August 2010 – Coldfoot to Fairbanks – 264.7 miles

Well, it wasn’t exactly a sunny morning but I was ready to ride. I broke camp and rode back to the Arctic Interagency Visitor Center in Coldfoot. I needed to return the bear canister they loaned me on the way up. In the parking lot I saw two picture-worthy sights.
This sweetie belongs to the ranger.

This one does, too. (Duct tape - used by NASA, park rangers, me and, well, probably everyone) I love all the colors!

The road from Coldfoot wasn't all bad. But a lot of it was. Here's the muddy, sloppy, "greasy oatmeal" road behind me.

Here's the muddy, sloppy, "greasy oatmeal" road ahead.

I took it slowly and steadily. Before too long I was passing Finger Rock. The finger points toward Fairbanks. I should be there soon.

I stopped back in at the Yukon Crossing Visitor Contact Station (That name cracks me up. Why couldn’t they say Visitor Center??) Linda and Ray were still there, friendly as ever. They were glad to see I’d made it. “Me, too!”
I hadn’t seen their tiny but productive vegetable garden before.

I may have posted a photo of this bridge before (from the ride up). It's pretty impressive and I think another view is warranted. E. L. Patton Bridge over Yukon river.

It was getting hard to find a dry spot on the road.

Near the end of the highway, I met another Englishman, Nick Sanders. He’s been on some amazing motorcycle adventures. You can read all about him on his website. He's quite a character and worth reading about, if you have the time. Nick told me about his trips around the world, the video documentary he's making and his current adventure from Ushuaia to Prudhoe Bay. At times I struggled to understand him – he talks really fast. I guess that’s understandable: Nick set the record for riding over 19,000 miles around the globe in 19 days, 3 hours. This guy’s in a hurry!

I was very grateful to arrive at the end of the Dalton Highway and transition to mostly smooth pavement all the way to Fairbanks. On the way, I thought about Nick and the questions he’d asked – why did I do it and what did I learn.

This is pretty much what I came up with: Everyone was right. The whoop-dee-doos, the roller coastering, the gravel, mud and greasy oatmeal make this road unfriendly to scooters (and to scooterists, for that matter). The road and wind and rain will conspire against you. It was not easy. It probably was not smart. I’m glad I did it. And I’m very glad it’s over.

I rode back to Go North, my Fairbanks home. Guess who was there? Yep, my English pals Tim, Tom and Phil. (HA! - They’re gonna think I’m stalking them!) They found a local mechanic who seems to be equal parts MacGyver and Dr. Frankenstein. They’re hoping his magic worked. They're gonna test it out tomorrow. I'm gonna go to bed.

2010-08-20T21:36:00.000-07:00

Tuesday, 17 August 2010 – stayed in Coldfoot – 10.8 miles

It rained off and on throughout the night. It was still raining when I got up. I dawdled a bit hoping for it to clear. I finally decided to ride. Things didn’t quite go as I’d hoped.

Last night, I left my muddy boots outside the tent under the rainfly in the vestibule. Apparently, the wind blew the unstaked rainfly so that my boots were now unprotected. Uh, oh . . . I poured a couple of inches of water out of each boot, pulled the insoles and wrung them out. Now I know to store my boots soles up. I guess I’ll stay put for another day. That will let the boots dry out, give me time do catch up on a week’s worth of blog entries and gather up my courage to ride the Dalton Highway one last day.

The rain had finally stopped in the afternoon so I went for a walk around the campground and along the nearby creek. There were a variety of birds including gray jays and white-winged crossbills but no other wildlife that I could see. It’s just as well. I really don’t want to see a bear, Dall sheep or moose up close and personal. (I'd already seen caribou crossing the road. They are HUGE! I don't want to be anywhere close to them.)
My favorite part of my nature walk was all the various mosses and ground covers.

I think this is reindeer moss growing amongst the mushrooms

I also liked that the campground host has a sense of humor.

One of them even has a tattoo

The previous occupant left me a bundle of wood. It was too wet to have a fire. I left it for the next campers.

I was walking back to camp when I remembered that I hadn’t closed out my credit card when I got fuel in Coldfoot. I guess I was so happy to get the throttle lock that it completely slipped my mind. I decided to put on my still semi-squishy boots and ride the 5 miles to the café. Fortunately, they had my card and the $9 gas bill for me to sign. The fellow said it happens a lot. Sure enough, he pointed to about half a dozen credit cards lining the bottom of his message board.

I walked back out to my scooter when I saw my English friends, Tim, Tom and Phil. I thought they’d be very far away by now. A chronic fuel filter problem kept them overnight in Happy Valley and threatened to keep them in Coldfoot, too. Luckily they found a trucker willing to haul them to Fairbanks that night. (They still wanted to get across the US to New York and time was starting to become an issue.) I gave them all good-bye hugs and wished them good luck with the repairs. I rode back to my campsite and tucked myself in for the night.

2010-08-20T00:42:00.000-07:00

Monday, 16 August 2010 – Deadhorse to Coldfoot – 249.5 miles

The wind woke me up early this morning and for once, I was glad. Here's a photo taken at about 5am, just about an hour or so after sunrise. There was probably only 3 or 4 hours of night.

There was a lot to do this morning. I wanted to make sure the scooter suffered no damage from yesterdays ride. I'd put paper towels down the night before and weighted them down with rocks. Again, I was lucky to find no drips. There was minor damage to the underside of the floorboard. The toe loop on the sidestand was bent a little, too. All in all, I'd say I came out of it pretty well.

I'd made a reservation to take the tour from Deadhorse to Prudhoe Bay (private vehicles were not allowed on the last 5 or 10 miles up to the bay).

I was told to meet at the Arctic Caribou Inn at 6:30. AM. (not my hour.) I'd stopped by there last night. I knew how to get there and had purposely camped nearby.

Most of the other tour-goers were from a group organized by REI. I love REI and was wearing and using gear from their store. I met Pat and Loren Upton from Salmon, Idaho and Heather Hudson from Anchorage. There were also three guys from England, Tim, Tom and Phil. They'd shipped a Toyota Land Cruiser from their home to Ushuaia, Argentina, the southernmost city in the world. Their plan is to drive to Prudhoe Bay and on to New York, then ship the car home. Amazing! And they have a very entertaining blog called This Road . It's worth reading if you have an interest in travel, adventure, and / or the antics of three Englishmen.

I was expecting the tour to be focused on the bay, it's history and the local flora and fauna. I thought it was odd that the tour began with a film that was a kind of pro-oil propaganda piece. It didn't exactly go over well with the group of mostly granola-eating, tree-hugging, Sierra Club types (myself included). There was one part that made everyone laugh: the scene was a table covered with products made from or with petroleum. The narrator was naming them as the camera panned to each item. When he said "children's toys" the camera landed on a Makita drill. (Well, it was funny at the time.)

Branden, our guide and driver, checked us of his "security clearance" list and led us onto the bus. As he drove, he explained that most workers on the North Slope have a shift of two weeks and two weeks off. Even the fellow in the hardware store had that schedule. About all they do is work and sleep. Then go home. It seemes like a hard way to make a living to me. Branden described the buildings in the various camps – clusters of trailers attached to form a compound to house that company's workers. Kinda bleak.

The sign says "Deadhorse Camp Prudhoe Bay National Forest"
Branden explained that the joke is the plywood trees here are the only trees left in Deadhorse. The rest were clear cut. Yeesh, this tour is depressing.

Of course there was miles of pipe

and heavy machinery

There were some wildlife sightings: "those dang Canadian geese" as Branden called them and white-footed ducks

I was surprised to see sand dunes. Branden said the Arctic is basically a desert with very little precipitation.

Everyone got off the bus when we arrived at the bay. Some walked along the shoreline and some were eager to get wet. We were warned - no diving and no swimming (because they were concerned about us suffering from hypothermia). Only wading was permitted.

I just wanted to dip my toes in the water. That was enough for me. It was not as cold as I thought it would be but it was cold enough.

My new English friends went in up to their knees. I took photos of that with their cameras. Got them drying off with mine.

This photo is to show Patrick that Rockhopper has an adventure-seeking English cousin (held by Tim).

Overall, the tour was not what I expected. It was informative and interesting, mostly describing oil drilling and the life of oil workers. It was totally worth getting up way earlier than I usually do; I got to dip my toes in the Arctic Ocean and got a certificate stating I was a member of "The Polar Bears Dipping Club".

I talked with some of my fellow tour mates for almost two hours after we returned to Deadhorse. I would have loved to stay and chat longer but I knew what was ahead of me. I needed to get back on the Dalton Highway and go back to Coldfoot. I tried not to think of it as that never-ending awful road. Instead, I took it in sections. 50 miles of gravel. I can do that. 70 miles of semi-crappy pavement. No problem. It was not nearly as intimidating if I broke it into smaller pieces, so to speak. My progress was slow but steady.

There were birds called yellow wagtails flitting in the tundra along the roadside. At least I was getting relaxed enough to notice that. And I began to have a sense of humor about the signs, too. I knew that this one was an understatement.

Before too long, I was heading up the Atigun Pass.

A motorcyclist pulled up alongside me and asked if I really was from San Diego. I said yes but puzzled over how he could know that. The license plate frame doesn’t indicate anything and besides it was completely covered in mud. (I later learned that Indian Steve had been telling all the motorcyclists that they'd been bested by a girl on a scooter. haha) The rider introduced himself as Jim and we talked for a short time before he sped off to try to catch another rider he met earlier. I saw Jim again later at yet another construction stop and tried to continue our conversation.
The only problem is, that wasn't Jim. Boy, did I feel stupid! It was en equally sweet guy from New York who happened to be riding with Jim. My only excuse is they were on very similar bikes and we all had a layer of mud and dust that covered anything distinctive. Anyway, Phillip from Chatanooga was with him, too.

I caught up with the real Jim and the others at Coldfoot. Phillip was on an Iron Butt 10 day, 10,000 mile trip. Understandably, he was pressed for time and left. The remaining four of us enjoyed dinner and conversaion on a wide range of topics. That was fun, guys. Let's do it again on the east coast.

By the way, thanks for the throttle lock, Jim. I appreciate the way you look out out for everyone on the road.

It was raining softly and I hoped it would clear up soon, especially since the boys decided to continue to ride south to Fairbanks. I rode back up to Marion Creek campground, found another nice campsite and slept well.

2010-08-19T22:27:00.000-07:00

Sunday, 15 August 2010 – Coldfoot to Deadhorse – 245.5 miles

Dear Diary,
Today the Dalton Highway
kicked.
my.
butt.

It tested me on every level I could imagine – my patience, people skills, riding skills, faith in other users of the road. It tested my intestinal fortitude, endurance and my love of riding. And it definitely tested my commitment to complete the ride.

It all started out fine. I had a good night’s rest, ate some fruit and granola and enjoyed another sunny morning. I saw Indian Steve at one of the construction zones (of which there were many!) We talked for a few minutes before his radio crackled “All Clear”. He said there would be a few whoop-dee-dos after the construction zone and that I should be careful. I told him I would and proceeded through Atigun Pass and crossed the Continental Divide.
This photo was taken near the crest of the pass.

There were indeed whoop-dee-dos. And roller coaster-ish hills and steep grades and gravel and mud and more.

The next construction delay took about 30 minutes. The one after that was about an hour. And there were more. I stopped counting after 6. At one, the female flagger said "That's a cute moped." "Thanks," said I, "but it's a scooter."
she - I see a moped.
me - A moped has pedals. It's a Vespa scooter.
she - Well, alright. (like she doesn't really believe me)
I avoid further conversation by getting off and walking around a bit. The pilot car comes about 15 minutes later and as I'm riding off she says, "Have fun on your moped." I just waved.

I think it was two stops further down the highway when the flagger (this time a guy) says, "You get pretty good gas mileage on that moped?" I nodded yes and wondered if he's talked with the other flagger. "Where are you from?" he asked. "San Diego, California." "So how much did it cost you in gas to get here? About 50 bucks?" I nodded again and said, "Something like that."
I give up. I don't want to talk to these guys anymore. I walked around a bit and took photos to avoid answering any more questions.

The road got progressively worse. My confidence was being erroded. The scooter was being bounced around to the point where the front rack came off. The tire and yellow fuel bladder were still bungeed to it as the rack bounced up, unhooked itself from the legshield, ricochet off the front tire and landed in the middle of the road.

I was riding toward the right-hand side of the road when the rack came off. I didn't have time (or quick enough reflexes) to avoid going into the rock-filled ditch. I was uninjured but still unable to lift, drag or ride the scooter back onto the road. I tried to flag down the next 3 vehicles - all Alyska pick-up trucks driven by able-bodied men, all looking at me waving at them, all of them seeing a scooter in a ditch, none of whom stopped. I would have thought these local boys had more compassion for visitors. I waved at the next three vehicles, two campers and a pick-up. The campers keep going, the pick-up stops. Thank God! Two young men, hunters from Maryland, came to my rescue. While they lifted the scooter back onto the road, I picked up the rack and scoured the road for pieces of the rack to reattach it. I found most of the parts, except the rubber bumper that supports the bottom. The boys from Maryland used duct tape to fashion a replacement.

The two campers who passed me earlier had stopped further up the road. It turns out the guys in all three vehicles were together. I thanked them all for stopping and shook hands with the two that actually helped, assuring them that the scooter and I were fine. A little shakey, but fine.

I noticed a small leak in the yellow fuel bladder earlier. Now it was even worse. I poured as much of it into the scooter's tank as I could and hoped it would be enough to carry me the rest of the way to Deadhorse.

By now it was getting windy. Remember that unforgiving afternoon wind that I complained about before? It was back. The parts of the road that had not been watered down were getting dusty. Here you can see wind-whipped rapids.

Finally, after what seemed like many hundreds of miles, there was pavement. I was never so happy to have a semi-potholed, partly gravel-covered road to ride on. And when I saw this sign, I laughed out loud.

I was indeed happy for the 70 or so miles that the pavement existed.
Just to show me who was boss, the highway gave me one more sign.

All right. You win. You are the toughest, baddest road ever.

BUT
there's still daylight
I only have 50 miles more to ride
this gravel is nothing compared to what I've been on today.
So, if this is all you've got to throw at me, you will not defeat me.

I stopped to take a picture of the Franklin Bluffs and prove that, while I may be down, I am not out.

I rode slowly all the way to Deadhorse.

I replaced my leaky yellow fuel container with another 1-gallon can from the hardware store. I was amazed it was still open at 10pm. Inside, I found an even smaller post office, which took up a corner of the hardware store. What do you think of this one, Matt?

The clerk did not believe I'd ridden up the Dalton Highway on a scooter. He went outside and took a picture to add me to their wall of fame.

It was nearly midnight when I made camp.

Tonight, I didn't care about the howling wind. Go ahead. Give it all you've got. I won't hear you. I'm exhausted.

2010-08-19T20:25:00.000-07:00

Saturday, 14 August 2010 – Fairbanks to Coldfoot – 269.8 miles

I was lugging my gear from the ladies tent cabin to the snazzy covered motorcycle parking area when I heard a barely audible sound. At the far end of the volleyball court, a fellow GoNorth guest was playing his guitar. What a lovely way to start the day!

The sun was shining, the sky was blue and I was ready to get on the road. I had filled up my tank and reserves with 91 octane fuel, bought groceries, and felt well-rested. I headed north on highway 2, ready for the Dalton Highway.

This is the mail center for Haystack. I took this photo for Matt, who’s in search of the smallest post office. Does this count, Matt?

Here’s a picturesque little foot bridge over the Tatalina River. It’s where I saw my first otter. At least I think it was an otter. Can you see his head peeking up out of the water?

The Trans Alaska Pipeline, which runs over from Prudhoe Bay to Valdez, is frequently visible from the highway. Building it required crossing over 800 miles of wilderness in Alaska and a maze in Washington. While I've got to admire the skill and political acumen of Edward L. Patton in completing what some call an engineering marvel, for me, it looks like a scar on an otherwise beautifully scenic landscape.

Just a few miles north of Fairbanks, highway 2 ends and highway 11 begins. Highway 11 is also known as the James W. Dalton Highway or the "Haul Road". It has a reputation for fast and numerous trucks, poor road surfaces, scarce services (food, water, fuel, etc.) and it’s a mecca (of sorts) for PTW riders.

Just a few feet after the Dalton Highway sign are two more. One says "HEAVY INDUSTRIAL TRAFFIC PROCEED WITH CAUTION" The other sign is slightly smaller. It says "PAVEMENT ENDS". And it does. For the next 60 miles or so. It's ok. This was expected. No problem.
Oh, that blur of white in the upper right corner of the photo is dust and pebbles kicked up by passing "heavy industrial traffic." These guys drive fast!
(One other note - I took this photo on the way back to Fairbanks. Don't be thrown by the gas can on the front replacing the yellow bag.)

I came to learn that all these signs are something of an understatement; when it says “Construction next 20 miles” it means that the road will be torn up for construction purposes for at least 20 miles. After that, the road will get worse. A“Bump” sign posted before a bridge crossing means there will be similar “bumps” before and after every bridge crossing from here on. You’ll usually only get the one warning. Then there are the ones that are kinda laughable like “rough road”, "gravel ahead", etc. You get the idea.

So far the road, while not paved, is not too bad. And there are lots of butterflies keeping me company.

I stopped at a turn out with information about the fires in 1993 and 2003. The signs describe the extent of the damage and the new growth resulting from the fire. Maybe it’s the power of suggestion but I’m smelling smoke again. And that haze in the distance looks like smoke, too.

It turns out there is a fire. It’s about 5 miles up the Yukon River toward Stevens Village. It started on July 30th from a lightning strike in an area of black spruce. I learned this from stopping at the Yukon Crossing Visitor Contact Station.

This tiny visitor center is just over the E.L.Patton Bridge which crosses the Yukon River. There I met a nice family from Maine who have a yellow Vespa GTS250. I also met Linda and Roy who work at the center. Linda gave very detailed info about where to find fuel, rest stops, water, etc. along the highway. She recommended I attend the 8pm talk / performance at the Coldfoot Visitor Center. Linda even gave me a certificate validating that I’d been to the Arctic Circle. And I got photographic proof, too.

At Linda's suggestion, I also stopped at the Arctic Interagency Visitor Center in Coldfoot. I arrived in time to enjoy a very informative musical program put on by one of the interns. She told stories of the original settlers and sang songs from the period. It was very well done and I wish I remembered her name.

The visitor center ranger lent me a bear canister to safely store my food and recommended that I “might be more comfortable” at the campground just up the road from Coldfoot. The second time this was said to me and I began to wonder about it. I decided to take a look. Besides, I needed to refuel before setting off for Deadhorse and that would be my only opportunity.

I rode across the street to see the Coldfoot Inn, café and camp area. It’s basically one big parking lot with two buildings and lots of big trucks parked in between. Hmmm, I see what they mean. It’s dusty, noisy and not very inviting.
(These photos were taken a few days later. It was late morning so most of the trucks were gone. Also, it had rained earlier so, instead of being dusty, it was muddy and gooey.)

trucks in the foreground, campers, RVs and tents behind them and the hotel / lounge

the cafe

Coldfoot Camp sign

I rode to the fuel pump. A fellow stared as I rode by, then walked over to me and introduced himself as Indian Steve. He said he’d seen every kind of motorcycle and bicycle, even a unicycle, but never a Vespa. We talked for a short while and he urged me to stop in Anchorage to see Joseph at AK Cycle. Said it would make Joseph’s day to know a scooter made it up the Dalton. I told him I would (1) if I made it all the way up the Dalton and (2) if I made it to Anchorage. I got back on the scooter, waved goodbye to Indian Steve and rode 5 miles to Marion Creek Campground. It was much more inviting and definitely quieter than the parking lot in Coldfoot. I found a site near the water pump, set up camp and went to sleep.

2010-08-19T19:55:00.000-07:00

Friday, 13 August 2010 – stayed in Fairbanks - 13.1 miles

The rain poured down throughout the night. There were some times when I thought the canvas roof of the hostel's tent cabin might not hold.

Not to change the subject BUT
The rain on the canvas roof reminded me of a story from about 30 years ago: My mom and I were visiting her aunt in Austria. We went to see a Shakespearian comedy. (The Taming of the Shrew, I think.) It was raining and the theater had a canvas roof. The first and second act were fine, performed well and enjoyed by the audience. The third act was a little hurried – the actors were rushing their lines as the thunder clapped and the rain fell harder. By the fourth and fifth act, they were improvising a LOT, deleting non-essential scenes and dialogue. Just as they were about to conclude the play, the canvas roof gave way, drenching the actors and audience alike. Everyone roared their applause and laughed at what was an unexpected dramatic conclusion to the night.
now back to Fairbanks, 2010

Our tent roof did hold up but I was awake most of the night. I tried to be productive by updating the blog and catching up on e-mail, etc. Finally I did get some sleep, but I was not ready to check out at 10:30 when Peggy came in to tidy up. I decided to pay for another day, wait for the weather to clear and set off for Coldfoot, Deadhorse and Prudhoe Bay on Friday.

I’m now sure that the weather gods are screwing with me. This afternoon, the skies were mostly clear and any rain we did get was light. Ah, well. I needed a day off anyway...

I ran a few errands and rode around Fairbanks. It’s really not much different from every other American city. There’s a university, the usual assortment of fast food restaurants, strip malls, big box stores, etc. They even have the same supermarket chains as we have in San Diego. The bank signs declared it was 70 degrees and I saw many motorcycle riders in t-shirts, jeans and sunglasses. Most of them did not wear a helmet. I imagine they were amused or perplexed by a scooter rider in full gear.

I forgot to bring the camera on my little riding tour, too. So instead of scenic-ish pics of Fairbanks, here’s a few shots of the GoNorth hostel where I stayed the last two nights.

the office

the message center, foosball table and fully-equipped community kitchen

the central teepee and firepit

the ladies tent cabin, complete with a sturdy canvas roof

the covered bicycle storage and brand new covered motorcycle parking (that I had all to myself)

2010-08-19T17:41:00.000-07:00

Thursday, 12 August 2010 – Tok to Fairbanks – 212 miles

I put some paper towling under the scooter last night to see if there were any leaks caused by the rough road. I was more than a little relieved to see no drips. I checked the oil level and tire air pressure. All ok. Whew!

The quantity of flying, biting bugs is astonishing. There are flies, gnats, midges and, of course, mosquitoes. By the thousands. Swarming everywhere. Biting everything. I was surprised to learn biologist believe that insect harassment is so powerful a force that it drives the movement of caribou herds. It certainly was driving me this morning. I doused myself in DEET, took a few quick photos of the view from my tent, broke camp as quickly as I could and rode into town.

My intention was to stop briefly at the visitor center. I figured they'd have information about the weather forecast and the road conditions to Valdez and Anchorage. I already was thwarted by fires preventing me from riding the Cassiar Highway up from Prince George to Watson Lake. Flooding had prevented (or maybe only delayed) riding the Top of the World Highway on the way from Whitehorse to Dawson City to Tok. With the onset of flying pests, I wanted to find out if any other plague was on the horizon.

The weather forecast was for sunshine and 71 degrees even in Prudhoe Bay. Hmmm. I spoke to the volunteers at the visitor center and to some of the visitors. I listened to their travel stories and their recommendations. Still, I debated with myself whether to take what was probably the worst road (north) in the best weather or take well-paved roads south and save the worst for last, not knowing what the weather may be in the coming weeks. After what I'd experienced yesterday, I knew I couldn't manage those road conditions in the rain. Decision made. Ride north while the weather is good.

As I got ready to go, I saw another scooter - that's two so far. This time I got a photo. Now that's got to be a good omen, right?

It took all of about 20 minutes for the weather to change. Cloudy at first, then a light mist as I crossed the Gerstie River.

I stopped at an historic roadhouse called Rika's Landing. It's on the banks of the Tanana River between Big Delta and Richardson and used to be known as McCarty's. Rika Wallen came from San Francisco to Alaska in the early 1900s beause she thought it would be like her home, Sweden. I can't imagine that it was. But she made this place look like it! The original structure was built by John Hajdukovich, who was from Montenegro. Rika enlarged and improved it by adding wallpaper to the rough walls and a parquet floor to the dirt floors. She built a Swedish-style barn and developed a heating and ventilation system to allow livestock to survive the harsh winters. She wove the wool from her sheep. Her goats provided milk that she made into butter and cheese. She kept chickens, ducks, geese, rabbits and bees. She had an amazing garden that provided fresh vegetables, fruit and berries. She ran the liquor store, fur storage and the post office. Seems like she could do anything and everything - what an inspiration!

the roadhouse (Rika added the front two section)

the barn

the chickens

and, my favorite, the sod-roofed log cabin with the windmill and vegetable garden

more of the garden (the sweet peas growing up the fence smelled heavenly!)

The rain continued, light but steady. I just had to stop to photograph these enormous burl animals. They were in front of The Knotty Shop, a kitschy souvenir shop near Eielson Airforce Base.

The rain was coming down a little harder now. But there was no way I could pass without taking pictures here!

It was getting cold, too. I had to break out the electric gloves.

Sante is HUGE at the North Pole.

The residents must have a good sense of humor - even the street lamps have red and white candy cane stripes!

I finally arrived in Fairbanks, found a nice hostel, had a much-needed hot shower and went to bed.

2010-08-19T15:59:00.000-07:00

Wednesday, 11 August 2010 – Haines Junction to Tok, Alaska – 290.6 miles

The weather was nice but I was in no hurry to get on the road. I was dreading what the highway flagger told me about the road conditions being poor for miles to come.

I hung around the campground until early afternoon using their WiFi connection to catch up with e-mails and a few blog updates and generally wasted time. I finally decided that my delay was not going to make road conditions any better. Might as well hit the road (lots of enthusiasm there, I know).

As I was getting ready, I saw a young fellow doing the same reluctant gearing-up process. I walked over and said hello. (I’m very good at stalling.) He was from Japan and on his first trip to North America. He bought his BMW in Seattle and was riding to Alaska, too. We talked about our ultimate destination - Prudhoe Bay. He said something like, "Prudhoe Bay? You?! That?!? (pointing to the scooter)" "Yep," I said. He furrowed his brow, said something in Japanese, paused, then, with a big grin he said, "Adventure!" Yep!!

We rode together for a while on roads that were in great condition. (As it turns out, I’d misunderstood what the flagger said. You’ll see what I mean later.) I felt like I was holding my new riding buddy back and I wanted to take some photos along the way, so we parted ways near the upper part of Kluane Lake. Here’s a photo looking back at it. In real life, the lake reflected about 15 shades of blue. Beautiful!

The roads continued to be good and the weather was nice. I saw this police car on a side road as I approached Burwash Landing.

Somebody had made good use of an old gate. It's the only law enforcement vehicle I'd seen in days and it gave me a good laugh.

The road conditions began to deteroiate outside of Burwash Landing. I finally realized that the flagger had really told me was not that they were bad before Burwash but after Burwash - and beyond. Ohhhhh, now I get it.

The Canadians have a pretty good system for alerting folks to upcoming road hazards: there is usually a sign posted followed by fluorescent pink flags marking the spot. You can kind of see the flags here. On the US side of the border, the problem areas are not as consistently marked or as easily seen. (I'll tell you about it in a bit, I promise.)

I stopped at a turnout to have something to eat and give my self a pep-talk. Pulling in behind me were a retired Marine, his wife and their two dogs. They had come from the opposite direction and I asked about the roads. "This ain't nothin'. It gets worse." Then they laughed so I thought (hoped) they were kidding at least a little bit.

I stopped to refuel in Beaver Creek. The woman who runs the only gas pump, restaurant, hotel, and laundry is a pretty no-nonsense, no chit-chat, just-the facts kind of gal. I think she was even crankier than me. Signs were posted everywhere: Leave your pets in your car. No trash service here - take yours with you. Restrooms for customers only. There were more but I think you get the gist. These two signs showed she had a sense of humor, too

There was a Welcome to Alaska sign and even more road construction just north of Beaver Creek.

Alaska'a state highway 2 runs from the border of Canada's Yukon Territory up through Fairbanks. It is also known as the Purple Heart Trail.

The road was no longer paved, now just gravel and dirt. This little fella didn’t seemed bothered by it at all.

As the road got worse and worse, I realized that retired Marine and his wife were not kidding. It was muddy and slippery. I heard it described later as greasy oatmeal. Then there were the gravel sections (gravel on mud). Then there was the section of fist-sized rocks. Yowza! I had never ridden in conditions like this and felt like I was in way over my head. "It's ok," I kept telling myself. "Slow and steady."

The scooter was taking quite a beating, too. I was worried about what kind of damage was being done and if I'd have the tools or knowledge to fix it.

I was tempted to stop and camp at Deadman’s Lake. The name was foreboding and there were ravens cawing all around me – like a scene from a bad movie.

I decided to press on to Tok. Not only did I want to avoid another a very low-mileage day of riding, I also didn't want to feel defeated by the road again.
I'm very glad I decided to keep going. The road construction ended and there was now beautiful new pavement under my wheels. Then, I came around a bend and saw the most spectacular view of dozens of lakes and ponds shining like mirrors in the setting sun.

It was the worst day of riding I’d ever experienced. I was tense and tired and very glad I made it to Tok. I stopped at the state park on east bank of the Tok River, found a quiet site and made camp.

2010-08-19T15:35:00.001-07:00

Tuesday, 10 August 2010 – Haines, Alaska to Haines Junction, Yukon Territory – 159 miles

Today started badly because I hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before. The wind had been unrelenting, angry and howling all night. I finally got up and broke camp and tried to muster the energy to face the ride back up that steep, gravel, pot-holed, wash-boarded road. On the short walk to get water, I came across the biggest mushrooms I’d ever seen! And they was growing out of the most delicate carpet of moss. Somehow that helped put me in a better frame of mind.

The ride out was not nearly as bad as I thought it would be. Don't know if it's because uphill is easier than downhill or because I felt more confident. Or maybe it was because of the giant mushrooms. Whatever the case, I made it out with only a little bit of a death-grip on the handlebars.

Guess what? Guess what?!? I saw a scooter! An Elite ridden by a guy in shorts (brrr, cold!). We were both so surprised that we did “The Geek” wave. Seeing him really perked me up! I wish I had the camera ready. Between seeing the other scooter-ist and this sign, the morning was getting better.

I stopped at the Chilkat Bald Eagle Preserve beside the Klehini River to walk around and have lunch. Unfortunately, I'm here at the wrong time to see any eagle activity (September / October is better). There was a very cute stone bear at the next turn-out, though.

There were lots of traffic delays due to construction projects improving and widening the roads. It made for very slow going. One of the flaggers told me it would continue to be this bad and worse all the way to Burwash Landing. At least that’s what I thought she said.

I was tired by the time I got to Haines Junction even though it wasn’t very late. I had a good dinner at a Chinese restaurant that was recommended to me by the woman at the gas station. That hit the spot!

The Kluane Kampground was just a little further up the road. I found a quiet spot and went to bed by 9.

2010-08-13T01:47:00.000-07:00

Monday, 09 August 2010 - Teslin, Yukon Territory to Haines, Alaska - 191.9 miles

I woke up from a great sleep to a beautiful view of Lake Teslin. This is the view from my front porch. The cabin in front is quite a bit bigger than the one I stayed in. (I gotta say, I liked how cozy mine was!)

Let me just put in an unsolicited plug for Dawson Peaks Lodge and, in particular, Dave and Carolyn. They went out of their way to help me and others who weren’t even their customers. They made calls to find lodging for folks who stopped in. They serve a delectable dinner (didn’t have time to try breakfast or lunch), and they’re really nice folks. Stay at the Dawson Peaks Lodge if you’re in the neighborhood. You won’t be disappointed.

I continued northwest on the Alaskan Highway toward Teslin. There’s a turnout where I saw another trailer I liked even better than the one at Hell’s Gate. And I liked that she was bundled up even more than I was.

The Nisutlin Bay / Teslin River Bridge was impressive to look at but the metal grates made it a bit dicey to ride over. Plus, It was kind of freaky to see through the grates to the river rushing below as I tried to keep the scooter upright.

Just over the bridge was a gas station. You know I had to stop and refuel. There I met a bunch of folks – a cute couple each on BMWs from Wasilla, a fellow who kept saying “I gotta get me one o’ them” and Trevor, pictured below. Trevor told me about two Italian fellows who flew here, bought Vespas (200s I think he said) and were on their way to catch a ferry to Vancouver. I was on my way to catch a ferry, too – from Skagway to Haines. I’m sorry to say, Trevor, I never did see them.

One of the turn-outs has some rusting trucks left from 1943, when Canol Road was completed.

Another scenic turn-out with a view of Bove Island.

This a view of Tagish Lake near Carcross. The lake changed from gorgeous turquoise to deep aquamarine to sparkling sapphire. Truly breath-taking. I wish the photo showed it better.

There were waterfalls all along the highway feeding into the lake. It was cold and windy so I didn’t stop. No wonder they call this part of the lake Windy Arm.

I was welcomed to Alaska as I rode toward Skagway.

Once in town, I stopped at the library to e-mail my folks (Hi Mom & Dad!) and check the ferry schedules. I was just in time to catch the last ferry to Haines. Whew! The clouds were low and thick so the view of the Inside Passage was lost to me. That freed me up to take a shower and do a load of laundry. (Those ships are very well equipped!) Once in Haines, I tried two campgrounds – both closed. Oh, man - not this again! (I was getting cranky.)

I was tempted to camp along the road like many folks do.

Instead I opted for Chilkat State Park. It was getting late. It was still windy. And it was getting colder. The good news is I got this photo of one of the many mountain tops peeking out from the clouds.

The bad news is the road to the park was mostly gravel, washboarded, heavily pot-holed and has lots of switch-backs. CRAP. To top things off there was a 14% grade. Criminey!! I was tired and stressed out by the time I set up camp. Not a happy camper.

2010-08-12T13:17:00.000-07:00

Sunday, 09 August 2010 Muncho Lake to Teslin - 325.2 miles

I hated to leave the Strawberry Flats campground at Muncho Lake Provincial Park. I met the funniest bunch of Newfies and wanted to talk and laugh with them longer. Also, Muncho Lake is said to be among the most beautiful in the world. It had been cool and cloudy and I hadn't really seen it in it's glory. But I really did need to keep going. And my new friends were going home, too. Here's one more pic of Madonna, Doreen, Pat and Rob. I'll call you guys when I get to Whitehorse.

There are many signs warning of bison /buffalo - ordinary white with black lettering, school bus yellow, neon orange, and even blinking / flashing signs. I guess they really mean it.

And sure enough, there were lots of 'em. The first time I made sure I was well past the group before I pulled over and got out the camera. (Even the babies are a lot bigger than my scooter and me.) The last time I took a picture as I rode past. I think there were four different herds(?) along the roadside. Fun fact - bison poop is just as slippery as goat poop. Just thought you'd like to know.

It rained off and on most of the day. I stopped frequently for photos and in search of fuel (more on that later). There were bison, a cougar or some other cat-like creature (If my youngest nephew and niece, Seth and Loren were here, they'd know. They are geniuses when it comes to identifying animals.), there were lots of ground squirrels and some really cool black and white birds. (I wonder if Loren and Seth can help me with that, too.) The road ran along side the Liard River. It was an amazing shade of turquoise - photos don't do it justice!

I stopped at Watson Lake for fuel (finally, fuel! yay!!) and to take some photos of “The Sign Post Forest.” Folks from far and wide bring signs to add to the collection begun by a home-sick GI who was working on the Alaskan Highway.

You know how I was complaining about the gas stations along the Alaskan Highway? Well, today I learned another thing about them: Not only may the stations listed in the guidebooks or AAA maps be abandoned, out of fuel, closed after 6pm (and definitely closed after 8pm), but they may also be closed because it's Sunday. Yeesh! And the same is true for lodging. Two of the places recommended in the guidebook are closed. dammit.

I had better luck when I stopped at Dalton Peaks lodge just outside of Teslin. As I was taking off my helmet, a fellow walked by and said, “A scooter – nice.” Turns out that was Dave. He and his wife, Carolyn are the proprietors. They’re also fellow riders. Dave said he had no more rooms but he said I could take a look at their tent cabins (even though Carolyn had instructed him not to rent them out. Not up to her standards yet, or something.) I guess Dave could tell that I was tired and just not up to setting up a tent today. The cabins were charming and I was happy to roll out my sleeping bag on the double bed. I had an outstanding dinner (Chicken Cacciatore), took a nice hot shower and went happily to bed.

2010-08-11T13:54:00.000-07:00

Saturday, 07 August 2010 – Fort Nelson to Muncho Lake – 153.5 miles

My camp neighbor at Fort Nelson was a bicyclist named Bill. We talked about his trip all along the west coast. He asked about mine too. He had lots of recommendations, including the guide book called Milepost and a good read called If you Lived Here I’d know Your Name, about life in Haines, Alaska. Bill also rides a motorcycle and we joked about how some Harley riders won't wave to BMW riders, BMWs don't waive to Kawasakis, etc. Bill complained that nobody waves to bicyclists. "I waive to EVERYone on two wheels," I told him. Laughing, he said, "But I refuse to wave to a scooterist!"

Later that day, I passed a fellow on a bicycle, rain jacket flying in the wind. I waived and laughed as I passed and he gave me a huge wave back. Must not have been Bill.

It was overcast and rainy all day. I spent most of the afternoon at the library catching up on blog entries while I waited for it to pass. Finally, at 4pm, the library closed and I could procrastinate no longer. Except for two more stops - one at the market for some fruit and one fuel stop. I'd learned my lesson and decided to use my 2-gallon bag in addition to the one-gallon can I usually carry.

There was more road construction. At one of the stops, I met a flagger named Kristy. We talked about safety gear and the importance of being visible. (We both wore yellow vests with reflective tape.) She offered to give me an even brighter, more visible vest. Thanks, Kristy! It sure came in handy in the fog that was just minutes ahead.

There were also very bad roads ahead. Yuck! The chip sealed roads had frost heaves. Many places were gravel. One particularly bad spot was muddy and slippery and the rain decided to fall even harder through that section. No fun. Eventually the sun did come out for a little while.

My goal was to get to Muncho Lake and set up camp before the rain started again. Both campgrounds were full. I was lucky to find some lovely folks who allowed me to share their space. Robbie and Madonna were the first to let me encroach on a corner of their campsite. Then their neighbors, Doreen and Pat, said I could move to a higher spot in front of their camper. I gratefully accepted. As I was setting up the tent, Doreen invited me to join their group and eat some of Pat's bannock. I didn't know what it was, and didn't think I'd had it before. . . What the hell, why not?! Doreen was right. It was the best, lightest, tastiest fried donut-ish treat. Combined with butter and Madonna's home-made jam, it was the best thing I'd had in a long time. Thanks, Pat! We talked and laughed (Doreen has the best, most contagious giggle!) until way past my bed-time. I left the group, finished setting up camp and slept well (thanks in part to the wine Robbie poured).
Here are Madonna, her brother Pat, Doreen (Pat's wife), Robbie (Madonna's husband), and other camp neighbors Lorette and Kevin, the joke-teller.

2010-08-11T12:51:00.000-07:00

Friday, 06 August 2010 –Whiskers Point to Fort Nelson – 424.2 miles

This morning I was not exactly motivated to jump on the scooter and ride. It rained a little early in the morning and by the time I got up there was some blue in the sky instead of all that smoke. I went for a walk around the campground and lake. Here's a view of the lake and a view of my campsite from the lake path.

This is some of what's left of chalk artist Austin's work. (I love that he even knows who The Hulk is!)

There were wild berries that one of my neighbors was harvesting for breakfast.

I stopped to eat and refuel in Chetwynd. They have some amazing wood sculptures all along the main road through town.

This sign made me laugh - apparently cold beer isn't good enough.

Here's a photo I took for my niece, Christina.

This is the Hudson Hope Bridge that spans Peace River. Not only is the bridge and surrounding scenery beautiful but they installed a very cool totem.

Today I learned that service stations along the Alaskan Highway typically close at 6pm and most of them only have diesel and 84 or 87 octane fuel. Eeek. It was nearly 7pm and I needed 91 octane or better. I was lucky that one station had re-opened for another customer so I could ride as far as Ft. Nelson. I didn’t hear the engine pinging – fingers crossed that everything’s ok.

Hey! Don't we have some of these in So Cal?

At last I arrived at Ft. Nelson. These are photos of the door handles and barstools at the Triple “G” Hideaway.

As I was checking into the campground, I spoke to a fellow rider named Martin. He had a lovely motorcycle and I was jealous because it was so clean. (I haven’t ever seen a scooter as filthy as mine. Yuck) He very kindly came back around to offer to let me stay with him and his wife in their home. It was a very generous offer. I had already paid and set up my tent so I declined. Thanks, anyway, Martin!

2010-08-07T14:41:00.000-07:00

Thursday, 05 August 2010 – rode from Ten Mile Lake, through Pince George to Vanderhoof, back down through Prince George and up to Whiskers Point - 181.9 miles

Today started out beautifully...
I had a lovely campsite at Ten Mile Lake. It was peaceful and serene. (Even though it was smoky, you could see the lake through the trees.)

I enjoyed a leisurely morning after a good night's sleep. I had a nice chat with the campground host. He said he heard there was a fire about 20 miles away but he didn't think it posed any immediate threat. I figured I was ready to ride the Cassiar Highway and was on the road toward Prince George by 10am.

I took Yellowhead Highway west from Prince George. There were a few roadside signs for a woodworking shop that used burl from local trees to make bowls, walking canes, etc. I took the gravel road turn off and found a nice compound of several homes, a woodshop and studio.

This is the sign that was on the studio door:

So, I walked in and looked around. They had many beautiful things but none that I could safely carry with me.

As I began to gear up, a fellow came out and we talked about all kinds of things: woodworking, motorcycles, which routes are best and current events. He told me there were fourteen fires burning around the Prince George area. UGH! No wonder there’s so much smoke.

He also told me there was a partial closure of the Stewart Cassiar Highway. That’s the route I wanted to take up to Watson Lake. We checked the maps. The only option was to return to Prince George and ride the Alaskan Highway instead. Dang! I guess it could have been worse: I could have gotten all the way to Hazelton before I found out. Ah, well...

The alternate route is supposed to be about 200 miles longer but it is all paved. And the map indicates that parts of it are scenic. If I’m lucky the fires will be out within a couple of weeks and I’ll get to ride the Cassiar on the way back.

When I got back to Prince George, I decided wait out the traffic. I took some time to finally post some entries to this blog. I also checked the BC road closures – good thing I did. My new route north was scheduled to be closed until 1:30. Thankfully, that gaves me lots of time to catch up with e-mail, too.

I rode a bit north after the traffic eased. There were lots of lily pads on both sides of the highway - Bear Lake.

I felt like I hadn't made any progress for the day when I stopped at Whiskers Point Provincial Park on Lake McLeod. I felt tired and cranky as I unloaded the scooter. That's when Dave and his border collie Jasper strolled by. Dave said he and his wife (and Jasper, of course) were staying at the park for a while. He was a trucker and had lots of great stories and great advice on all the Canadian and Alaskan highways. It was a treat to talk with him. It really perked up my sagging spirits.

That evening's sunset was kinda funny. Between the smoke and the cloud formations, the sun look like it was wearing a moustache and a sombrero.

I guess it turned out to be a pretty good day after all.

2010-08-07T14:21:00.000-07:00

Wednesday, 04 August 2010 – rode from Cultus Lake B.C. to Ten Mile Lake, B.C. – 365.9 miles

Today was a wildlife spotting adventure! There were signs warning of big horn sheep, deer, caribou, and bears. Didn’t see any of them. Did see goats, horses, cattle, a fox, lots of birds and a beautiful bald eagle. He was flying over the river that runs along the highway (Trans Canda 1), then rose up even with me. I wish I had a photo of him giving me the once-over! Give "eagle eye" a whole new meaning. (Sorry, no animal pics. I'm not quick enough.)

This stretch of the Fraser Canyon Highway is known for it's scenic beauty. The scenery was pretty but somewhere there was a fire and visibility was limited. The smoke clung to the mountain sides and hovered all around most of the day. The acrid smell came and went. Still, the wildflowers were blooming and the rock faces were impressive.

Hell's Gate, just outside of Boston Bar. Sounds about right, I guess. (No offence to you Bostonians *wink*)

Now, that's what I need! (the trailer, only, thanks)

2010-08-07T13:43:00.000-07:00

Tuesday, 03 August 2010 – Seattle, WA to Cultus Lake, B.C. – 168.3 miles

I enjoyed another good night’s sleep thanks to Helaine’s cozy guest room. She and her daughter went on an early-morning errand. They returned home just as I finished packing all the gear back onto the scooter. Another quick good-bye and Helaine was off to work and I was off to REI. I just had to see the the original store and it did not disappoint: it really is beautiful. Has a waterfall and everything! I didn’t find anything that I couldn’t live without (or didn’t already have) but I did find some useful information about Alaska.

I was surprised to find a victory garden just down the block. The Cascade P Patch Community Garden is in the shadow of the Space Needle and a welcome sight amongst all the concrete, steel and glass.

Since I had a little time before my appointment at Big People Scooters, I rode through the city center, admired Paul Allen's building, the Experience Music Project and Science Fiction Museum and Hall of Fame. (Too bad there was not enough time to explore inside.)

I also happend to ride by Vespa of Seattle. Which one of these scooters is not like the other?

I arrive a little early for my appointment at Big People Scooters. It was nice to finally meet Viktor, Jeff and the gang. I was especially glad to meet and talk with Bill Hilbert. He’s an Alaska native who had lots of good tips and advice. Plus, he’s a heck of a nice man. Hope to see you again, Bill.

I ended up with two tires in addition to the oil change – so glad to have the coupon from the rally bag. Westender Scooter Club saves the day again. Thanks!

I left Seattle in time to experience their rush hour traffic. Thankfully, the HOV lane moved pretty well. I took the Mt. Baker Scenic Byway out of Bellingham and laughed when I saw this.

I arrived at Cultus Lake just before dark and made camp as quickly as I could. There were lots of energetic kids who didn’t share my desire for a good nights rest. Earplugs definitely helped.

2010-08-07T13:31:00.000-07:00

Monday, 02 August 2010 – a small ride around Seattle – 21.4 miles

Helaine headed off to work and I slept in. (lucky me!)
I didn’t want to risk breaking the trophy the Westenders awarded me so I went to the post office to ship it and other rally goodies home. Afterwards, I rode to Lake Washington and enjoyed a picnic lunch. Nicky and Helaine had shown me this area yesterday and I was glad to have a chance to come back.

I packed up my lunch and walked the few steps to the Museum of History and Industry. I was surprised to see Robert there. I’m glad to know I’m not the only one who got to take advantage of the free pass was included in our rally packs. Yay - love free stuff!

The museum had room after room of interesting and informative displays. I especially liked the recreation of the town in it’s early years. It was just like a movie set. And the exhibit about salmon workers and fisheries was fascinating. I also enjoyed the Women’s Votes, Women’s Voices celebrating 100 years of women obtaining the right to vote in Washington. It’s pretty amazing what these women were able to accomplish!
Here’s a photo of an early UPS truck for my brother-in-law, Thomas.

I headed back to Helaine’s. I tried to fix the zipper on my riding jacket while she prepared a delicious meal of grilled salmon, rice, corn on the cob, and salad picked fresh from her garden. It was fantastic! BIG Thanks to Helaine, her daughter Naomi and her puppy Sam for their warm and gracious hospitality. I hope to see you again soon!

2010-08-07T12:30:00.001-07:00

Sunday, 01 August 2010 – rode around Seattle – 74.5 miles

Nicky and I left Brad behind to pack for their trip south to northern California. I was sorry he wouldn’t be joining us but I completely understand the last minute rush of packing that he was trying to avoid. We met Helaine for a leisurely morning coffee and a nice chat. The three of us left in plenty of time to join up with the rest of the Westenders for brunch at Café Revo. Freight trains thwarted our route and our timing. We did just barely make it to the café for a delicious brunch of fresh fruit, egg scrambles and potatoes. Unfortunately, both Nicky and Helaine had other plans for the day and would not be joining the group ride. Thanks to their excellent knowledge of the city and crack navigation skills, they did a stellar job of escorting me to meet up with the other 30 or so riders at the park. The group briefly explored nature center at Discovery Park and said a quick good-bye to Nicky and Helaine. We then proceeded to the lighthouse.

We left the park and rode a short distance to the locks.

The fish ladder was cool. I don't remember seeing that when I was here about 25 years ago. Maybe it was 30 - eek!

We stopped at another park with a great view of the Space Needle and downtown Seattle. Bob generously allowed a bride and groom to be photographed with his scooter. I bet they're gonna love that photo!

A few of us ended the day with lunch at Ale House. Another fun day spent with the Westender Scooter Club.

After lunch, I rode around, got flustered and frustrated by my lack of reliable information in finding a local campground and finally decided to take Helaine up on her very gracious offer to stay at her home. I enjoyed meeting her neighbors and their visiting relatives. We swapped travel stories before calling it a night.

2010-08-05T14:16:00.000-07:00

Saturday, 31 July 2010 – rode around Seattle with the Westenders Scooter Club – 92 miles

Met at Skylark Cafe to sign in for the rally. I had to laugh when Bob asked to see my ID. (He wanted to verify that I really was from San Diego.) I can only imagine the scooter shenanigans that lead to him requiring ID. :)
I received a useful reusable shopping bag filled with lots of swag, including a free pass to the Museum of History and Industry and a 25% off labor coupon at Big People Scooters. These are going to come in handy!

Doc lead a beautiful 75-mile long ride around the city and outlying areas. There were several fuel and rest stops along the way (plenty of time for me to take pics of the variety of scooters and accessories).

The ride ended at a park with a fantastic meal of assorted sausages (bangers), meat on a skewer (everybody loves meat on a stick!) gyro fixins, salads, desserts and drinks.
We were able to put our raffle tickets in a cup with a number that corresponded to the prize we wanted. Even though I put at least 20 tickets in the cup for the set of tires, I got skunked!
I did win a nice set of vintage Italian post cards and a very cool trophy for furthest traveled. Thanks, Westenders!

Dang it! I forgot to take a photo of the trophy before I shipped it home :>(
Here's a photo of the award winning scooter instead.

Here's the gorgeous P200 that so many of the Westenders worked on - they did a great job! It was the grand finale of prizes. I didn't get to take it home (skunked again!). I'm glad that it stayed "in the family" by going to a Westender.

I'd been aksing around for referrals on local campgrounds. Instead of camping out I was lucky enough to bunk in the guest room of Nicky and Brad. We ended up gabbing for hours and before I knew it, it was time for bed. Many thanks to my new friends Nicky and Brad. Hope to see you in San Diego soon so I can return the favor!

2010-08-05T14:07:00.001-07:00

Friday, 30 July 2010 – rode from Oakland, OR to Seattle, WA – 386 miles

My plan was to arrive in time for the kick-off of Tour Di Mari 3, a rally hosted by the Westenders Scooter Club. A nasty traffic accident , resulting in all lanes of traffic being diverted onto secondary roads, made that an impossible goal. The upside is I got to see many small towns that I would have otherwise missed.

No lane sharing / lane splitting caused many other 2-wheeled vehickes to overheat. I confess that some of us did occasionally resort to splitting. It was the only way to make any progress!

2010-08-05T13:47:00.000-07:00

Thursday, 29 July 2010 – rode from San Francisco, CA to Oakland, OR – 499 miles

It was cool and foggy when I left San Francisco and I was very happy to have the heated grips installed just before I left. (Thanks, Jeff!) I took this photo after crossing the Golden Gate Bridge.

This Blue Star Highway sign was posted at a scenic viewpoint of Mt. Shasta near the Oregon border. Posting it for my fellow PGR riders.

Lastly, there’s the view looking back at Mt. Shasta.

2010-08-05T13:35:00.000-07:00

Wednesday, 28 July 2010 – rode from Santa Maria to San Francisco – 273 miles

Stopped in San Luis Obispo for lunch and a few photos of Bubblegum Alley.

I love the kids' reactions: usually something like "Eeew! Gross!" quickly followed by running to one of the bubblegum machines that line the block, chewing as fast as they can, and adding their mark.

Arrived in San Francisco just in time to see Jess dismounting his lovely BMW. Met Kent from New Zealand, a fellow Cannonballer and his daughter Corrine (sp?), Francis, Ian, Patrick, Lisa, and Oscar. It was fun to see old friends and meet new ones.

finally underway

2010-08-05T13:25:00.000-07:00

Tuesday, 27 July 2010 - rode from San Diego to Santa Maria – 280 miles

The bad news is I left much later than I expected. The good news is I’m pretty sure I’ve got everything I’ll need for the next six weeks.

2010 roadtrip

2010-07-01T11:03:00.003-07:00

The time is getting short and I couldn't be more excited to get on the road toward Alaska.

2008-08-03T06:53:00.000-07:00

Scooter Wanderlust (test)