Thread: Prudhoe Joe
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Old 08-02-2009, 04:44 PM   #5
Flyred OP
Who is John Galt?
 
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Joined: Oct 2006
Location: Woodinville, WA Whine Country
Oddometer: 681
Day 9 521 miles of shit

What a crappy day is what I write in the journal.
The first 100 miles is just to get to the Campbell Hwy. If I hadn't been lazy I'd have been there hours earlier.
So breakfast at the junction. Have the "quicky" breakfast sandwich and a coffee. The owner comes out and shows me on my map what to expect. Bad road, ruts, holes, dust, and if it rains, slimy mud.
It didn't rain but the Hwy crew were watering so I had all the slip without having to button up the rain gear.
The holes were mostly just potholes. There was one that was about 6' x 6' x 12" deep and sharp edged. The other thing was at intervals the surface would turn in sand whoops the entire width of the road. Again, no problem if you see it coming. I stood up on the pegs about 6 hours this day and rode the bike like I was on a MX track.
The other reason I stood is because there is little air behind my windshield and I was cooking in my gear.
There were some forest fires in the area and the smoke started to inhibit vivibility.




The watering undid the wash job I gave Jumbo while in Tok


Near the end there are a couple lakes with campgrounds. The bugs were bad and I wanted to sleep in a real bed tonight so I pressed on to Watson Lake.
I make bad decisions in the evening.



The map shows that the last 30-50 miles should be paved. I am exhausted but can handle a high speed run into town. The map was wrong and in fact this was the worst stretch of road so far. They were rebuilding and had ripped everything down to the base. The road had ruts, mud, dust, large rocks, and heavy equipment working that you needed to dodge.
I was cooked and badly dehydrated when I arrived in Watson Lake. At the gas station next to the sign forest an employee watched me climb off Jumbo and slowly strip my gear off and head for the door to get a Gatoraid. He watched me struggle up the stairs in my sweat soaked, sticky gear. He saw me rattle on the door knob.
The GD place was closed.
Across the street was another gas station and I knocked back a 1/2 gallon of GatorAid.
The search was on for a motel. I grabbed the last room at The RCAF Pilots Barracks. Now run by Mike the German. Another bathroom down the hall place with no A/C. It was still clean and nice and I was happy to be there

Flyred screwed with this post 08-02-2009 at 05:47 PM
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