Took off fairly early this morning. I remember Ian telling me that a lot of people were doing this run in four days, from Fairbanks to Coldfoot, Coldfoot to Deadhorse, then the two days back to Fairbanks. He had made the middle two runs in one go, so this is what I was going for. Up from Coldfoot and back in one day. It was an awesome ride, with great views. I'll let the photos do most of the talking.
At one point, as I neared Deadhorse, I found an overturned vehicle in the Tundra. I pulled over to have a look and make sure it wasn't fresh. There were personal belongings thrown all around the scene. I imagine the gnarly washboards I had been fighting the past several hundred miles had something to do with the wreck. I poked around a bit and found an unopened roll of Ritz Crackers about fifty feet from the car. Lunch. I hopped back on the bike and continued north.
The last hundred miles or so leading two Deadhorse was actually quite lame. I was surrounded by flat Tundra with only the rare animal and semi breaking up the monotony. A good twenty miles outside of town the bike sputters and onto reserve I go. I'm a little nervous by this point, unsure as to whether or not I'm really gonna make it to town. With the staging area known as Deadhorse rising on the horizon, I welled with confidence. Then the bike stalled. Fuck... me.... I dumped what camping fuel I had left into the tank and hot-rodded it into town, following the poorly placed fuel station signs to the station. The people here were great and I scored some home made chicken soup and brownies while waiting for my turn at the pump. I topped off and ran over to the nearest hotel for some sticker searching, successfully I might add. With that I turned around and headed south. There wasn't really much to see around here, and I knew that I couldn't access the arctic ocean so there was nothing left but to make the return trip. It was getting late, anyway, and I had pretty much obliterated any chance of making it back to Coldfoot before nightfall, but I had to give it a shot.
It should be noted that I didn't, in fact, make it back to Coldfoot before nightfall. Not in the least. It got cold, it got lame, and I hadn't pulled back into coldfoot until well after midnight. I had bummed an empty methyl alchohol jug from a shop in Deadhorse that I had filled with fuel, so that wasn't such an issue. But the cold, holy christ it was cold. I pulled over several times to hover over my exhaust in hopes of warming my crotch and dethawing my digits. I hadn't taken into account the massive amount of construction on the highway that seemed to consume half the day. Oh well, the ride was well worth it.