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Old 10-02-2005, 09:57 AM   #76
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Get Ready For a Wave of Updates!

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Originally Posted by say4567
Great report, keep it coming and ride safe.
Thanks... Keeping it moving along. Lots more updates coming this weekend...

stay tuned.
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Old 10-02-2005, 09:58 AM   #77
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The Deadly Dalton Redux - Arctic Ocean Day #3

Leaving The Arctic Ocean - The Deadly Dalton Redux - Day 3





Bad things could have happened today. But thankfully the wind had blown the smoke away for the first couple hundred miles revealing the scenery I had missed yesterday. The arctic desert, tons of Caribou and somewhere out there Dall sheep and grizzlies.

The first 20 miles leaving Deadhorse today were the most nerve racking and scary of the trip. While the rough roads of the Old Steese Highway to Circle certainly taxed my concentration and focus, my continually improving riding skills guided me safely to Chatanika. Today the odds seemed stacked against me. As the old adage goes: timing is everything. Circumstance counts too.

The Dalton Highway is build on top of permafrost which is soft and squishy in the summer and hard as ice in the winter. Gravel and dirt is laid on the permafrost and the wind continues to blow the gravel and dirt away. The road is barely wide enough for two cars, to pass and if you make one move to side the road falls quickly several yards into the tundra. And if that doesn't do it, the constant pounding of 100,000 lbs. plus loaded trucks spits the gravel to either the side or to the crest of the road. This leaves nice lines of semi deep gravel.



Click The Photo To View A Movie of the Dalton Highway



So maintaining this road is a full time job just as painting on the Golden Gate Bridge never stops. As the whipping winds of the arctic send the gravel and dirt flying slowly breaking down the road. To keep the road in place trucks periodically will "fertilize" the road with more gravel mixed with calcium chloride. Then grading trucks smooth this gravel cocktail. Finally, a water truck follows to wet the road so that the new gravel doesn't fly away in the wind and the calcium chloride eventually dries and seals the gravel to the road.

Problem is if you happen to be in the vicinity of the maintenance trucks during any step of this process, you're in for some interesting riding. Typically riders like to avoid riding in the gravel on the side or the crest. But if you happen to come upon newly dumped gravel, it's fairly easy to wade through it though often jumps and jerks and sways of the wheels tense the muscles and wracks the nerves. But it's the water trucks that can truly test your relaxability quotient. If you happen upon a freshly wetted strip of gravel, the calcium chloride cocktail turns the road into a greasy wetland where traction is non-existent. Hit this going to fast and your going to face plant. Go too slow and you'll slip out and fall. Best thing is to hit this a couple hours after the sun, if it's out that day, has started to harden the mixture. At least then you'll have a tad of traction.





After my Arctic dip in the ocean I hopped on Doc and headed south. Within 10 miles of Deadhorse and cruising confidently at a nice clip I see a massive extra wide oversized load barreling down at me. First the pilot truck passes and just behind it taking 3/4 of the road is a 350,000 pound twenty some odd wheeled truck hauling a massive tank to be used in the natural gas operation at Deadhorse. The eminent outcome of this encounter would have me eating dust, deflecting rocks and blown around as if in a wind tunnel. The road climbed up at about 30 degrees and the massive truck barreled closer, I started to move to the side and rolled the throttle back. As I slowed down I rode directly into a foot of more deep line of gravel. Immediately my front wheel went into a low speed wobble throwing my handle bars back and forth. I could see the eyes of the driver as he passed precisely when I felt i had no control of the bike. I saw two options, I'd either dump it right there and become a pancake on the grill of this massive rig, or I'd go sliding down with my bike into the tundra. Either option scared me, but fate would have its way. Somehow I maintained to keep the bike straight. But I'm sure the driver of that rig thought he'd be contributing to yet another Dalton Highway statistic. Thankfully not. My mistake in this near fatal encounter had been slowing the bike as I rode into gravel -- gravel I didn't expect to be so deep.





If this encounter wasn't too much to shake the wits out of me, just a further up the road as I approached Franklin Bluffs I found myself hot on the trail of a watering truck. For 10 miles or so I was wallowing in the greasy, slip-sliding mud of the calcium chloride cocktail mentioned above. White knuckled and still shook up from the near collision with the heavy duty, extra wide big rig. Fearful and visibly shaking and with high-anxiety I just held onto the handlebars, maintained my speed while the bike skated in the mud with me just wondering and waiting when I'd bite it and be picking up my broken bike and strewn luggage off Dalton's fabled highway. But mile after mile of skating I made it.

A trucker I talked to later was part of a three truck entourage bringing parts for the natural gas operation. He told me his rig was 175K gross vehicle weight but the truck that nearly sent me down a road I felt too young to go was at 250K.

"When we go through that crap it's the same thing. Wondering if we're going to jackknife or high side the rig," he confided. "I hate it too."

Having beaten the highway and its massive haulers at its dangerous game, I began to relax and take in the scenery as I cruised through the remainder of the coastal plain, the north slope, crossed the continental divide over the Atigun Pass (4,739 ft) and flanked the Brooks Range in the full splendor of glorious light and better conditions.

Somewhere around Happy Valley I ran into a bunch of vans with colorful graphics and logos. After passing the third vehicle I pulled over to satiate my curiosity. I met a girl on a bicycle, a driver and a bicycle mechanic. Part of a 6 or 7 person team aiming to brake the record at riding a team from Deadhorse to Ushuaia, Argentina. Taking shifts each rider spends two or three hours riding. Others sleep, rest and eat. They will ride non-stop trying to make it to Argentina in six weeks.

At one point climbing the pass a water truck taking a leak cruised toward me in my lane. With the opposite lane soaked and slippery, I maintained course figuring he'd move - after all, he was in my line. WRONG! I could see the guy as I moved closer waving his arms directing me to the opposite lane. Wondering once again what would happen in my favorite roadwork cocktail mix, but I managed the short barely a mile stretch and continued to climb the pass.

Perhaps the insanity of the goal to reach the top of the world and the Arctic Ocean depletes common sense in those in it for simply the adventure. At least this is what I thought when three Harley Davidson's blasted by me on their way to Prudhoe. Two of them wearing simply bandanas and sunglasses. No helmets. What are they thinking. The rocks, mud and gravel beat me up enough with my full-face helmet. But some guys just happy they're in a state stupid enough not to have a helmet law take advantage of it regardless of the danger. But this isn't Ohio, Minnesota or Texas. This is the arctic. And this is the Haul Road. Not my problem, but just makes me wonder.









Before I got to Coldfoot my fuel reserve light flashed. About 40 miles later I pulled over to tap into my reserve fuel cans I'd been carrying to add some fuel to my Dalton fire. In Coldfoot filled up on gas and cruised toward the Yukon River Crossing. Just south of Coldfoot Camp I ran into the smokey air.

Confident I could make it far enough south to avoid the smoke and the high prices of Coldfoot I pressed on. But the smoke didn't let up. And just north of the Yukon River I decided to pull over at perhaps a little known restaurant on the Dalton Highway, The Hot Spot Cafe. Here I joined a team of smoke-jumpers for a buffet laid out by the owners including great pasta and fresh Yukon River Wild Salmon.






One of the fireman was hobbling around on crutches, so like men comparing scars I enquired as to the nature of his injury. TWo months ago on a jump he fractured both bones in his lower leg. Feeling a bit lame for my painful but much less complicated injury, he filled me in on the nature of smoke jumping. Because these fires burn rampantly out of control and that fires started by lightning, as most here start, are simply part of the natural course of changes in the wild. Smoke jumpers parachute from planes into the forest and carrying a dual-purpose tool that contains something like a brush or broom on one side and an ax on the other their sole purpose is to save property by cutting and creating a barrier between the property or dwelling and the fire. Then they moved on to the next. I thought to myself, jumping into the forest in the middle of a wildfire. These guys are crazy.





As the smoke created a fiery sunset I snuggled into one of the few rooms at the Hot Spot and dreamed the night away and about Jimmy D, and his highway.

The next morning I raced my way back to Fairbanks to have coffee once again with George, the legend behind Trails End BMW.

----------------
Stats:
Deadhorse, AK to Arctic Circle, AK (Hot Spot Cafe) 8-12-05
Total Miles: 355.6
Total Time: 9:40:00

Photos:
(1) The beauty of the Brooks Range from the legendary Dalton Highway - when wildfires aren't blowing smoke this way; (2) the infamous trucks that create challenges for all drivers and riders on the highway; (3) count those wheels! the truck part of the convoy that nearly sent me to a Dalton statistic sheet; (4) My argentenian friends I connected with last night in Deadhorse; (5) the beautiful Brooks Range at magic light hour climbing Atigun Pass; (6) refueling Doc (7) the Atigun Pass; (8) Doc looking good in the shadows of Dalton's scenic glory; (9) Smokey roads forced me to stay the night at the HotSpot; (10) Fiery sunset and Firetruck at the HotSpot

Watch The Movie Here
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Old 10-02-2005, 10:02 AM   #78
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Originally Posted by KTM265
Now that is not fair...you used their camera, come on, let see some of that eye candy!
Must have been their strategic thinking. Keep me from using mine with their's in my hand. Hmmmm. Never thought of that. Slick...
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Old 10-02-2005, 02:41 PM   #79
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Originally Posted by worldrider
Must have been their strategic thinking. Keep me from using mine with their's in my hand. Hmmmm. Never thought of that. Slick...
Well next time you will not be fooled... Ha-Ha
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Old 10-03-2005, 10:29 AM   #80
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Well next time you will not be fooled... Ha-Ha
duly noted -- heh heh
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Old 10-03-2005, 08:21 PM   #81
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More, more !!!!!
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Old 10-04-2005, 01:26 PM   #82
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More, more !!!!!
It's coming. It's coming!
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Old 10-04-2005, 01:26 PM   #83
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Denali Dirt

To The Denali Highway






Before leaving George's last night I had the pleasure to meet to fellow riders. Jose, the lawyer from Florida had been on the road for more than a month and who was looking to cross the arctic circle twice in the same trip, had a bit of a spill on his way up the Alcan. Seems he installed a device on his GS that would allow him to start his bike bypassing the kick stand safety switch. Well sitting on he side of the road near Fort St. John fiddling with his gloves or GPS he sees a group of GS riders pass him, so he goes into gear and takes off after them. Rounding the first corner he feels something not quite right. Yes, his kick stand was still down. This sent him and the bike down a ditch and put a nearly two week hold on his trip while he arranged for parts and healed his wounded body and spirit. The other, Tom is a local trucker who not only rides a BMW but is a haul road trucker driving the Dalton Highway a couple times a week in a massive big rig. When I shared by calcium chloride love affair he agrees and as a trucker hates the crap as much.

With more than 8,000 miles on my bike, I figured to maintain my warranty on the BMW I'd better get my 12K service soon. So I put a call into The Motorcycle Shop in Anchorage to see if I could make an appointment. They wouldn't take an appointment but informed me travelers are given priority and first-come, first served. It was Saturday and the next possible day for me would be Tuesday. That gave me two days to explore the Denali Highway and Denali National Park.

As a guest of the area, Tom took me to one of the local Sourdough eateries where we shared dinner, stories of riding and then he rode with me 20 miles or so down the road. Then I blasted down the road toward Delta Junction until the murky eve made it difficult to ride. Camping just outside Delta Junction, I'd get an early start the next morning and head to Denali Park over the 60 mile dirt road known as the Denali Highway.

Just stopping for a few moments to set up my tent and organize for the eve the mosquitoes made a feast of me. My bike was covered with bugs, mud and the nasty white residue from the CCC (calcium chloride cocktail). My suit was in no better shape covered with the same stuff plus reminders of my "oil spill". Looking into my pocket mirror while trying to wash my face of the remnants of dust, smoky ash and dirt I saw a road weary traveler who hasn't shaved in over a week. Though those eyes still crystal clear and full of images and experiences and hinting at the raging wanderlust still ignited and burning inside and fired up about seeing the rest of Alaska. With the Dalton Highway under my belt, my adventure begins.






My only schedule is to make the ferry in Haines next Thursday evening. I had 6 days to explore Denali, Anchorage and the Southern part of the state. The Kenai Peninsula would have to wait for another trip. I must get the bike serviced.

I've only been in Alaska for a couple weeks but already I can feel the weather changing. I no longer have the endless nights. The mornings are cooler and the trees are starting to show colors. After a few miles riding the next morning toward Paxston, I pulled over and changed into my winter gloves.

The brisk early morning air and a fresh early start I continued following the pipeline to the east and the mighty Alaska Range to the west. Oatmeal and coffee in Paxston and soon I was making my way on the 125 miles of dirt called the Denali Highway. The air still brisk but grey and smokey from fires burning somewhere. This obscured the view of the mighty range, but the massive snow covered peaks revealed themselves slightly. Passing by several scenic lakes and winding through forest and tundra I saw only two cars by the time I arrived at the Parks Highway.

I rolled into Denali National Park by mid-afternoon, purchased a ticket for an early morning tour and settled into a small commercial campground for the night.


----------------
Stats:
Delta Junction, AK to Denali National Park, AK 8-13-05
Total Miles: 275

Photos: (1) From the collection of cars at Trail's End BMW, this Chevy truck has been there awhile. Trees are growing out of it now; (2) My bike on the Denali Highway.
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Old 10-04-2005, 08:50 PM   #84
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Bear In Mind - Denali National Park

Denali National Park





What distinguishes Denali National Park from any other National Park is that it is the first and only National Park that is solely dedicated to the preservation of wildlife. Other natioinal parks were created to preserve natural or environmental beauty. HOme to the tallest mountain in the United States, Denali is perhaps the only national park where you can't drive through it in a car. There's a single road that meanders some 80 miles into the heart of the park, but cars are only allowed to drive the first 13 miles. However, every year a lottery is held passes are given to 200 lucky adventurers who can then during a designated time can drivce their car the full length of the Denalit NP road.

So to get into the park you either must hike from the visitor's center or purchase a pass for one of the many shuttle buses that take you as little or as far as you want to go. The bus will stop anywhere along the road and you're able to hike and then catch another bus. for those looking ot camp, back country camping permits are available but be ready to be run through the mill on bear safety.






My shuttle bus left the visitor's center at 6:30am would take a 8 hour round trip journey to Fish Creek. My still healing foot would prevent me from taking any long hikes. So for each stop of the bus, I'd be restricted to a short walk with my camera and cane.

The goal of most people coming to Denali is to see wildlife. Bears are typically high on the list. Then moose and all the rest is a bonus. Today we saw 11 bears, 3 wolves, a bunch of caribou, Dall sheep and a host of birds and small furry rodent type creatures that I won't bore you with.

But perhaps the highlight was watching a northern harrier circle and prey on a small squirrel. The majestic move of the bird from descent ot ascent seemed like a perfect line of poetry to me and a reminder that the food chain is alive and in action here in Denali.






Leaving the park my goal was simply to get to Anchorage, find a hotel so that I could be the first traveler to be serviced by The Motorcycle Shop tomorrow morning.

I soon discovered that nearly every hotel or motel in Anchorage was booked and those available were exceedingly expensive. I settled into the Day's Inn just a few miles from the BMW dealer.

Photos:
(1) Grizzly bear grazing side of the road; (2) Another grizzly. Or is the same one?; (3) Bowing his head to satiate his appetite the mighty caribou's antlers give a hint to its other name: reindeer.
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Old 10-04-2005, 09:28 PM   #85
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There are great pictures...I glad to see you are really capturing this ride in depth with not only words but with pictures. I'm sure this doesn't even compare to the pure beauty of mother nature up there.
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Old 10-05-2005, 08:37 AM   #86
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Racking Up The Miles. 8K for a 6K Service

The Motorcycle Shop, Anchorage Alaska

The good news about the Day's Inn was the free wireless internet. The bad news is it sucks. Barely works. I tried to iSight (video chat) with Angie early this morning. This turned out to be a frustrating experience so we gave up leaving both of us grouchy and grumpy.

The Motorcycle Shop in Anchorage is the only dealer in town. And they sell practically everything. Kawasaki 4x4s, KTM, BMW, Yamaha - just about anything. I was the second biker in line when I arrived here this morning. With 8,600 miles on my Dakar, I hoped to do a quick 6,000 mile service, check everything out and get on the road in the early afternoon. I've got a couple days (today is Tuesday, Ferry leaves Thursday night) to get to Haines which is about 800 miles from Anchorage. This plan would prove to be fruitless as I was still sitting against the concrete walls of the service department with my gear strewn in the parking lot. With the dealership closed and my mechanic dying to get home and the manager pacing with his keys in his hand. Why is it that I seem to be the last person to leave a motorcycle dealer. Same thing happened when I was in Seattle at RideWest BMW.






Turns out that my chain has seen better days and while I'm replacing the chain may as well go for the sprocket. I've not been good at maintaining the chain. Partly lazy and partly my bad foot. It's much easier to lube a chain when the bike is on the center stand. Unfortunately, I cannot get this bike on the center stand with my broken foot. So lubing becomes a messy operation with oil spraying everywhere, including the tires, no matter how careful I try to be.

Motorcycle dealers are congregation points for travelers. Today I met an elevator mechanic from Minnesota and a computer programmer from Herndon, Virginia and a aircraft mechanic from Anchorage. Each with glorious stories of Iron Butt rides, near collisions, crashes and maintenance and packing tips. At least part of my 9 hour prison sentence at The Motorcycle Shop was occupied with idle chit chat. But I was anxious. The sun goes down sooner each day. And I'd rather not blast at blazing speeds to Haines. It's about enjoying the ride.

Mike the mechanic bolted on the last plastic cosmetic piece to my bike, ran it for a quick test ride, commenting as he started the engine, "hmmmm not idling too good" but then sent me on my way.

I had hoped to make it to Tok before dark, so I hopped on the highway and made for the road toward Valdez. Even if I wanted to stay the night in Anchorage, I don't think I could find a room. So it was road trip toward Glenallen and Tok, leaving this place at 7pm.

There was no way I'd make Tok. And getting to Glenallen tested my endurance. The weather turned biting cold and as it turned dark I found myself on a winding twisty road with no lines to help me guide through its meandering way. I don't like to ride at dark, and it was dark. A skittish red fox ran out in front of me and just a fraction of second before I plowed into him and perhaps sending us both eating pavement, he takes a rapid u-turn -- I'm sure hearing the roar of my Adventure Pipe exhaust. Sometimes a slightly louder exhaust CAN be helpful.

I pulled into Glenallen and took a Room at the Caribou Hotel. It's after midnight. And I'm only a couple hundred miles outside of Anchorage. Looks like tomorrow is going to be a long day.


----------------
Stats:
Anchorage, AK to Glenallen, AK 8-16-05
Moving Average: 55.4 mph
Maximum Speed: 83.5 mph


Moving Time: 3:13:38
Total Miles: 183.3

Photos:
(1) Doing what I seem to always do at motorcycle dealers on this ride: waiting. Trying to catch up on biz while my gear is strewn everywhere.
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Old 10-05-2005, 09:11 AM   #87
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Great pictures of Alaska. Worked in western Alaska for years but never was able to ride up north. I am still stuck in Thailand, so be sure to give me a shout when you pass by this way. I remember being in Tok heading to Anchorage in my old truck when the temp was 60 below zero on the thermometer. Ride safe.
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Old 10-05-2005, 10:25 AM   #88
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Great pictures of Alaska [ ... ] I am still stuck in Thailand, so be sure to give me a shout when you pass by this way. I remember being in Tok heading to Anchorage in my old truck when the temp was 60 below zero on the thermometer. Ride safe.
Looking forward to Thailand. Don't know if it qualifies as being stuck in the traditional sense, eh? But I can't imagine those doulbe digit below zero temperatures. Good god! Thank god I'm going south!

As my journey winds through Asia we'll connect for sure!

smiles
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Old 10-05-2005, 10:28 AM   #89
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Stunning Scenery - Bad Bike - Yukon to USA

Stunning Scenery - Bad Bike - Yukon to USA

Today was my longest day riding since I've been keeping records. Though after a quick review of my journey this leg wasn't much longer than the jaunt from Fort St. John, BC to Watson Lake, YT.

But I was committed to making this ferry that leaves from Haines at 1:15am (actually Thursday morning). For the most part, I repeated the ride along Kluane Lake and Park and the Wrangell-St. Elias National Monument. Still as beautiful as it was a couple weeks ago, but what I noticed most was how much the trees had changed color and how fast the sun was going down.

Getting an early start from Glenallen's Caribou Hotel a gentlemen on a Harley came over to ask about my journey. We got to talking and it turns out he rode his Harley to Prudhoe Bay the day I was coming back. Even more coincidental or ironic is that as I was telling him the story about these insane guys on Harley's riding to Prudhoe without helmets and only sunglasses and bandannas, he tells me those are his two riding buddies. He wore his helmet but his buddies were the insane riders I saw passing me that day coming back from Prudhoe. That's the thing about riding where there are so few roads. But I never thought I see those guys. They pulled up moments later and I gave them a wrath of shit for being such lunatics. They didn't care. Just revved those noisy beasts and pulled onto the road.

Today the ride from Haines Junction, YT to Haines, Alaska was the most spectacular of the journey. With massive bulbous clouds, the majestic snow capped mountain peaks and perfectly banked sweeping curves winding from alpine forests to lush rain forests below.





Known as the Haines Highway, the route was the originally carved out by Jack Dalton during the Klondike Gold Rush, charing enterprising gold seekers to use the route for a faster corridor to the North. The 151 mile trek from Haines Junction to the town of Haines was built in 1943 as an alternative to the Alaska Highway for transporting troops and materials during WWII.

Here I pass through Tatshenshini-Alsek Wilderness Provincial Park and the southern side of the Kluane-Wrangell-Elias UNESCO World Heritage Site which is home to the largest ice fields in the world outside the polar ice caps. Climbing the 3,493-foot Chilkat Pass my teeth start chattering and I try to keep warming squeezing my knees closer to the engine and behind my tank panniers hoping to steal a little warmth. Just before the US Border I'm greeted with a few of the Jarvis Glacier.

"You must have the best border post in the entire country," I told Mike McClure the border guard outside Haines. "That road was amazing, but a bit chilly, no?"

"Was it snowing up there?" he smirks. "Then it wasn't cold."

This was the first time crossing a border that I was asked to take off my helmet. I switched the engine off, pulled my earplugs out and went through the motions. The conversation quickly turned to the bike and my journey.





When he waved me on I started the bike and it wouldn't start. Tried again. Started then mumbled and stalled. Another try. Same result. Then I did something BMW explicitly advises against, I used the throttle while starting. Revving Doc up a bit I pulled out of the border post. The road continued to amaze me as I pass the Porcupine Mining District at the Klehini River. Soon I'm cruising along the Chilkit River and the Alaska Chilkat Bald Eagle Preserve which hang in the shadows of the Takhinsha Mountains.

Seeing a bald eagle land near a rock, I pull over to grab pictures of this amazing wilderness. And that's when I knew something was seriously wrong with Doc. When I slowed to the turn off the engine didn't idle down. It stayed revved at a noisy and irritating 3,500 RPMs. I cranked the throttle up and back thinking it was sticking. No such luck. Did it again. Nothing. I finally turned the engine off. My fingers numbed quickly as I shot pictures sans gloves. Several miles later another photo session and the Doc acted the same way. This time when I tried starting, the bike wouldn't idle. Just stalled.

This became a royal pain as I entered the town of Haines. With a little bit of light at 10pm, I rode along the inside passage to the ferry terminal just outside of town. Eager to secure a cabin that I was unable to reserve due to lack of availability, I wanted to get here a few hours before departure to get on the waiting list. The alternative for my 2 1/2 day odyssey through the Alaskan Inside passage would be pitching a tent on the top deck of the ship. Working with the ship's porter, I was able to secure a bunk with a window. But tonight, the ship would be leaving a few hours late.

I kept thinking about my 9 hour day waiting for my bike to be serviced at the The Motorcycle Shop in Anchorage and how the worse thing to happen is to have your motorcycle run worse than it did when I brought it to the dealer. A call to the dealer didn't yield much help other than "maybe something fell into your air filter?" I was thousands of miles away from a BMW dealer. I suspected something with the fuel injection, which is something that no "regular" dealer can service since it's all run by a MotoTronic or somehow computer on the bike. And only authorized dealers have the ability to plug into the bike's computer. I was nervous and questioned the safety of riding a bike that wouldn't idle. Thank god I was boarding a ferry for a couple days. Give me time to think. As my blood boiled in anger at that dealer in Anchorage.

During my quick dinner at the Bamboo Room and mini-mart stop for supplies, I met a young couple, both who are physical therapists and will serve a 4-month assignment at a hospital on the island of Ketchikan. On the ferry I also met a 60-something year old man traveling with his 22 year old daughter - both on Harley's. That will be a trip she'll remember for the rest of her life.

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Stats:
Anchorage, AK to Glenallen, AK 8-17-05
Moving Average: 61.98 mph
Maximum Speed: 89.7 mph
Moving Time: 11:27:57
Total Miles: 592.5


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WorldRider: Adventure & Discovery
2005 -- Journey Around The World -- 2008

'05 F650GS Dakar

My WorldRider Journey ADVrider Thread
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Old 10-05-2005, 11:04 AM   #90
KTM265
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Location: Iowa
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My DS had a similar problem but it wasn't fuel injected...I pulled the carb down and cleaned it out...bolted back on and problem was solved. I can make a few calls around here for you and see if we can find some "road fix" for you to get you by until your next stop at a dealership.
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