2006 Alaska

Motorcycle Journal 2006
Alaska

March 7, 2006

Dear Friends and Family,

I know that it is not time to write to you, but this summer’s ride is different from all of the rest. It will be the longest trip I have ever taken. At first when I said I wanted to go to Alaska, I had no idea how far it was from Chicago. One night Francie, my wife, and I were in a theater that had a large map of North America. I was startled to see the distance between Chicago and Anchorage, Alaska. My first doubt crept forward, but was followed by the thrill of excitement that tingled all the way to my toes. I stood gaping at the map with a foolish grin that only my wife could interpret. “You’re thinking of Alaska again,” she whispered as she passed.

Alaska is about 3,700 miles according to Map Quest, I guess we will see. For those of you who went with me to the Atlantic Provinces in 2002, I rode 6,500 mile in 3 weeks. The miles don’t scare me or excite me. What brings a smile to my face every time I think of Alaska is just that. It is Alaska. It is a place few people from the Midwest have ridden. I know that the scenery will be breath taking and the road and weather will be tough, but it is the ride of a lifetime.

I have finally worked out a time line. I will be leaving June 14th and I am riding 1,670 miles to Edmonton, Alberta to see a friend. From there it is a 367 miles to Dawson Creek, which is mile 0 of the ALCAN – Alaska Highway. I take that for 1,282 miles to Tok, turn left and travel 328 to Anchorage. I am meeting Francie in Anchorage on July 2nd. We are leaving the 11th of July, she by plane and I by bike. I will meet up with her again on Mackinac Island, Michigan on July 24th.

I am sitting here grinning from ear to ear just thinking about the ride. I have never spent so much time thinking and researching a trip. We are staying at Bill and Annette Bartz’s home in Anchorage. They live here in Chicago. Francie and I have crewed on Bill’s sailboat on Wednesday night Beer Can Races. Annette called several of her friends and asked about riding a motorcycle up the ALCAN to Anchorage. All 6 of them told her to tell me not to come. Well, you can imagine Francie’s reaction. I joined a rider’s group many years ago. I went on line to find people from the rider’s group that lived in Anchorage. I was hoping to get information about the riding conditions. They all wrote back; Francie and I were relieved from the information they gave us. I have also read the Mileposts Magazine’s last three editions. The Milepost is a travel book that covers the ALCAN and all of the roads leading into it. A new one is published each year.

Once the weather gets warm, it will be time to get the bike ready. I have been reading about tires for long trips since both of mine need to be replaced. The bike is certainly going to get a work out. I want it in tip top shape before I leave.

As I reread this note my pulse quickens at the thought. I know it will be grueling at times, but it will be the ultimate bike adventure. This will be the perfect trip as my final long distance ride.

Until the trip starts,

Mike

June 13, 2006
Day 0

Dear Friends and Family,

I have spent the last few days making lists of items and things to do trying to get ready for Wednesday, my departure date. This trip is a little more difficult in terms of packing. I have tried to anticipate the type of weather I will be encountering. I have lots of long underwear and long sleeve shirts. I have been excited for months but now that it is closer, I feel a little nervous about the length of the ride. I know once I am on the road that feeling will dissipate and the sense of adventure will take over.

I must warn you that my journals are filled with spelling mistakes and poor grammar. I don’t have the time to proof read and revise. I also don’t type well which makes trying to get through the journals quickly more of a challenge. I am apologizing in advance. I usually save the journals and revise them later. In fact over the winter I went through and revised each of my journals from all of the other trips. It was fun to relive past adventures.

Today is getting chores around the house finished and getting all the gear on the bike. The next time we communicate, I will be somewhere along the road heading for Alaska.

Til later,

Mike

Day 1
June 14, 2006
Hampton, Iowa

Dear Friends and Family,

The start of a trip is always an exciting time for me, but this one has produced more anxiety than thrills. I don’t know if it is the distance of the trip or the amount of time I am going to be gone. Usually I have time to settle into a summer routine. Since I have only been out of school three days, I feel a bit unsettled as I jump into another entirely new routine.

By the time I exited the tollway, and was on the back roads, the anxiety dissipated. I was truly “back in the saddle again.” I am fascinated by the small towns. In fact there were two small towns that had huge European looking Catholic Churches. One of the towns was Luxemburg, Iowa. The name fit the church.

Once I crossed into Iowa, the sky looked threatening. Then a few miles later it looked like it was going to be rain free. About an hour later, the beautiful dark blue sky I had seen off to the northwest was directly over me. Several times during the day, it sprinkled but not enough to make me put on the foul weather gear. I just kept riding through the sprinkles. That was a mistake. The sky opened up and I was pretty wet by the time I found a place to pull over. I hate putting on all of the gear. Once I was ready to get back on the bike, I realized my keys were in my pants pocket. Digging through the layers of clothes was frustrating to say the least and all of the activity caused me to begin sweating.

I decided to stop early. It was about 4:30 and I saw a motel on the edge of Hampton, Iowa. I had driven over 400 mile and I was wet and tired. It is still overcast but at least it is not raining. The woman at the motel asked me if I was a Senior Citizen. If I was, I would get a discount. I hesitated for a moment. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to find out if 56 qualified me for the discount. The thought of paying less money won over my vanity. I received the discount, but now I have to live with the title “Senior Citizen.”

I am going to dinner after I send this. Have a good night.

Mike

Day 2
June 15, 2006
Watertown, SD

Dear Friends and Family,

Not much to report today. I started the day in rain and spent 4 hours as it drizzled on and off. Just as the foul weather gear would dry, it would begin to rain again. At one point the sky lit up as the lightening flashed across the sky. There was nowhere to go so I kept riding. I kept thinking to myself, “This is not how I pictured my ride to Alaska.”

Later in the day the rain was exchanged for an unbelievable wind. I spoke to a truck driver, who said the wind was blowing between 30 and 35 mph. It forced the bike out of my lane several times. When I turned onto Highway 75, it was behind me. It was like sailing down wind. The gas mileage jumped and I finally relaxed. The temperature is in the 80’s. I have gone from long underwear and leather to a t-shirt and jeans in 6 hours.

The bike is a mess. It is covered in road grime. It breaks my heart to see it. I am going to a car wash and get it cleaned up after leaving the library. There is supposed to be more rain tonight and then it is going to clear up and becomes hot.

I didn’t tell you that yesterday as I was getting on the tollway in Oakbrook, I was in the wrong lane and had to blow a toll. I was so frustrated. Great start – it feed into the anxiety about the trip I was already feeling. At the next toll, the attendant gave me an envelope to pay the toll, but I had to pay with a check. I don’t carry checks and they wouldn’t take a credit card. I went to the post office to get a money order for 80 cents. It cost me 95 cents for the money order. All I could do was laugh. I tried to share the humor of the situation with the postal worker who wrote out the check and took $1.75; she didn’t crack a smile. Some people just have no sense of humor.

Thanks for the emails you have written.
Later
Mike

Day 3
June 16, 2006
Corner of I94 & US 85 (Belfield, ND?)

Dear Friends and Family,

I left Watertown in the rain. (little irony) and continued west. About 3 hours later the road dried and I finally removed the rain gear. The rest of the ride was cloudy but dry. At one point it was so warm that I wanted to take off my coat, but I kept crisscrossing a huge rain cloud. Every time I went under it the temperature dropped at least 10 degrees. I could even smell the rain, but it never dropped any moisture on me.

Once again I am in awe of the vastness of the West. For a long time I rode along a single railroad track in the Sioux Reservation. Maybe it was the desolation that began to make me think about how difficult it must have been to lay track across the entire country when the railroad first began. The road I am traveling is straight and gives me lots of time to daydream and think.

I have not taken any pictures yet but I did cross the Missouri River into Mountain Time. I had planned to stay in Bowman, North Dakota and use the extra hour I gained to relax. I usually stop around 4 pm. I stopped at the Information Center to learn about the accommodations in town. I discovered that there were no motels available because the town was hosting the High School Rodeo State Championships. Even if there was a place to stay, the last thing I wanted was to be around a bunch of high school kids. I drove to the next town, which was 60 miles away.

There is not much of a town near the place I am staying. I don’t even know the name of the town but it is located on the corner of I94 and Highway 85. I had a choice of accommodations: a $56 motel room or a $12 camp site. Yes, I am camping. Both offered a shower and for the first time, no rain expected for the next couple of days.

I stopped at the bar in the town. A few moments after I walked in, a small oriental woman walked over and sat next to me. “You ride motor bike,” were her first words to me. She was about 5’ tall and a few years younger than I. It was difficult to understanding her at first, but my ears adjusted as she told me her life story over the next one and a half hours. She talked non-stop. I learned that she owned the bar. She told me about all of the patrons and who had oil money and who didn’t. I did notice that she never offered to buy me a drink.

My ears were tired but it was an interesting evening.

Mike

Day 4
June 17, 2006
Malta, Montana

Today it was sunny and dry with the exception of a few drops of moisture just to remind me how good I have it without a steady rain.

I know I say this every year but the West is fantastic. The scenery continually changes. I even stopped and took my first picture near Roosevelt National Park. The rock formations were stunning.

Despite the sunny weather, the winds were blowing me all over the road. I stopped early because I was really just worn out.

I enjoy having the opportunity to sit and think, but today I had to really pay attention to the road because of the strong winds. I spend a lot of hours sitting on that bike think about all of you and what I want to say about the days ride and all I have observed. It always seems that when I finally get a chance to put the pen to paper, all those insightful thoughts vanish. As I have said before, you will just have to take my word about how brilliant and descriptive my observations were.

Upon arriving in Malta, I was disappointed to find the library closed so I went to a bar instead. I am sure that was a big surprise. There were lots of festivities in town. It is Dinosaur Days – don’t ask me because I didn’t ask anyone about it. People seem very friendly. One man I met asked people he knew if I could go to their house to use the Internet.

I met lots of people and learn lots of the local gossip. When I went back into town for dinner, I met a guy from Wisconsin. He worked for the Embassy in Thailand for 21 years. After retiring, he bought a motor home and is traveling though the country. We talked for several hours. I found his stories fascinating.

Later,

Mike

Day 5
June 18, 2006
Strathmore, Alberta

As I left the motel I stopped at the gas station at the edge of town. A biker from California walked up and asked about an ATM. I explained that there was one in the gas station and invited him to breakfast. We had a great conversation about riding and traveling alone. As we were eating the waitress asked me if I was in the bar last night. I said, “Yes,” and she told me the cook had met me. Patrick, the rider from California, gave me that, “What were you doing last night look.” I said nothing because I had no idea who the woman could be. Later the cook came out, and I did recognise her from the bar. I talked to her husband and her about traveling. The woman has to be in her late 70’s and you could tell she has had a rough life along with missing her two of her front teeth. Patrick kept a straight face while we both talked to the woman. When she left, he made some comment about me enjoying the local festivities. We rode together for the next 90 miles.

At one point we were following a horse trailer. Patrick was riding in front of me. Every trip I learn something new. Patrick passed the trailer and I had to wait for a car. Just as the traffic cleared and I pulled out to pass, I saw a movement from the trailer. The horse was dropping a load right where I had just been riding. I have had birds drop on me, but never a horse. New rule: don’t ride close to a trailer with a horse in it because you could end up feeling really shitty.

We stopped at a gas station near the road that I would take to go north. Since it was Father’s Day, we both called our children. He called his two girls and I called the boys. He was heading to Glacier National Park and then to White Horse in the Yukon. I also need to pass through White Horse to get to Anchorage. We discussed riding together if our paths cross again. We even exchanged numbers, but the chance of meeting again was pretty slim.

When I crossed into Canada, a very attractive customs officer questioned me. It took about 5 minute and I was on my way. I have been worrying for days about what might happen when crossing into Canada because of the problem I had years ago. I had my passport in hand and certification of insurance which was good in Canada. All that time I spent worrying was for nothing.

Think Flashback:
(August 11, 2001 -----I had a problem with customs coming into Canada. They went through all of my stuff, searched me, the whole bit. I won’t go into detail, but they were rude and tried to be threatening. I was charged for smuggling a weapon into the country. It was the knife I had on my belt. Later after they ran a background check, they were more pleasant, but I still had to pay a fine. I was delayed for over an hour. I left the border crossing at about 5 pm, and I went directly to the expressway. I rode until 9 pm because I wanted out of Quebec. I was really angry. The bike and I fit a profile, I guess. This was a first and it left a bad taste in my mouth. )

I am running out of time so I will tell you about my evening later.

Mike

Day 5 Continued

I rode my 400 miles and it brought me to Strathmore, Alberta. I looked at a couple of pubs and picked the Green Bar. The atmosphere was very friendly from the moment I walked in. I met Greg who is the owner and a biker. Once I said I was from Chicago and on my way to Alaska, the guy next to me, Spaddie began to introduce me to the rest of the people in the bar. He introduced me to Bob who looked just like Francie’s father and even had some of the same mannerism. Spaddie is just like my friend Al. He works hard and plays hard. I was seeing him playing hard.

He decided I need to go to King Eddie’s a bar around the corner. Spaddie continued to introduce me to the people at Eddie’s. I met lots of other bikers even some I had met earlier at the Green Bar. I was introduced to Wayne and his wife who were the entertainment. They both played guitar and sang. They were fantastic. They also have a band, but Sunday evening is just the two of them. Wayne and I talked during their break. He was a really nice guy. He introduced me to all of the people in the bar from the stage and welcomed me to Strathmore. I don’t think I have ever felt so welcome to any town. People kept coming up to talk to me and buying me beers. Wayne and his wife were giving out prizes during the night and Wayne gave me a hat to help me remember my evening in Strathmore.

When the band ended, I sat with Greg and his wife Kim. They owned the Green Bar. They were very hospitable. We closed up the bar and went back to the Green Bar to play pool. I felt like I was with friends I had known for years. Kim began to call me Chicago Mike. It seemed to catch on and by the end of the evening it was shortened to Chicago.

Spaddie put me up for the night. We walked to his house just a block away. I had no problem sleeping.

Mike

Day 6
June 19, 2006
Strathmore, Alberta

Dear Friends and Family,

I agreed to meet Greg and Kim in the morning. I am moving a little slowly. They were going to meet me at 10 am. A group of bikers were going to ride to Drumheller and drop me off on Highway 21. Kim gave me a shirt for Francie. I also got one the night before from Wayne. Greg gave me a shirt from an upcoming Poker Run for Cancer. They are such kind and thoughtful people.

When we rode out of town, there were four bikes in all. I was supposed to follow. They went to turn off of Highway 21 and I continued on my way. It wasn’t until a moment after I split off that I realized I was supposed to turn also and run a road parallel to 21. I turned to Drumheller and didn’t see them so I went to the library to get caught up on the journal. I felt so bad that I didn’t get to say goodbye, particularly after they had been so kind and generous. I decided to go back to Strathmore.

I walked into the bar and was greeted as “Chicago” by the people who knew me. It is sad to say that I never had a chance to see Greg and Kim again, but I did leave a note.

I made it an early evening and rested up for the next day. Believe me I will never forget Strathmore and all of the wonderful people I met there.

Mike

Day 7
June 20, 2006
Valley View, Alberta

Dear Friends and Family,

Today I woke up to more rain. I covered the bike during the night so it was kind of dry. I started in the rain, but it was more of a mist and spray from the road. I never saw heavy rain the entire day. By 10 AM, the rain coat was off. It was cold though about 50 degrees.

New lesson learned:
I stopped at a gas station and bought some coffee to warm up. The woman working there gave me directions to get to Highway 43 and bypass Edmonton. I had lost my maps earlier; they blew off the bike at some point. When I left the station, I decided not to get gas because it was not premium. I thought I had enough for get to Leduk where I was going to start my bypass. I figured I had 80 miles left in the tank and the woman at the gas station talked like Leduk was not far away. Wrong. I found the turn for Leduk, but I had been on reserve tank for 30 miles. I knew that I couldn’t make it so I went to a small town that I could see from the intersection I had planned to take.

I walked into an industrial type shop and I asked where the nearest gestation was located. I was told 20 miles away. My face must have explained to the man that I could not make it. He said he had some gas in the back and brought out a 5 gallon can. I took only enough to get me off reserve. I tried to pay him but he wouldn’t accept anything. Lesson: My bike runs better on regular gas than no gas at all.

The day continued to be a day of kindness. I was ready to stop for the evening, and I pulled into Fox Creek. There were at least 5 motels. The first two motels were filled. A woman at the second motel explained that I was going to have trouble getting a room because the oil industry was booming and they are taking all the rooms. She called to the next town that was 70 mile away. She called 4 different places, before finding me a room. It was expensive but at least I had a place to stop. I learned that even all of the camping areas were full.

I was at least able to clean the bike and do my laundry.

Have a good night.

Mike

Day 8
June 21, 2006
Dawson Creek

Dear Friends and Family,

As you know I was able to email you earlier today. I spent an hour getting caught up with you. I was able to use the computer at the Visitor Center. They gave me new maps to replace the ones that flew off my bike yesterday. They were also kind enough to mail back the key I had stolen from last night’s motel.

I arrived in Dawson Creek about 3 pm. It is mile 0 of the Alaskan Highway. I couldn't decide if I wanted to camp or motel it. The girl at the Visitor Center told me of a cheap motel in the center of town. As I pulled up to the hotel, two cops were dragging some handcuffed kid out of the place. I asked about the place, and the cop gruffly told me I wouldn’t want to stay there. The next place I went to was a real dump. I decided to camp. The place the girl at the visitor center sent me didn’t have tent sites. The guy and his wife who worked at the campground told me I could put up my tent behind their RV. They didn’t charge me anything. Sometimes I am amazed at how nice people are to me.

I came back into town to do the tourist stuff. I went back to the Tourist Center and watched a 45 minute movie on the making of the highway. It was really interesting. Then I went to a small monument and sign about the Alaskan Highway. I asked a fellow biker to take my picture. I thought I was crazy driving here from Chicago. He came up with several friends from Mississippi and one guy had driven from Tampa, Florida. They left last Friday. These guys didn’t look much younger than I am. They must have been driving 600 miles a day. After my photo op, I went into the center of town to the Mile 0 milepost. I was told that I would be seeing them every mile along the way. I made sure to take a couple of pictures.

This is where the second part of the adventure begins. I have driven 2700 miles to get to Mile 0 of the Alaskan Highway.

Thank you for the notes back. I enjoy hearing from you. I hope you understand that I can’t answer all of your emails, but it is nice to hear from you. Your humor puts a smile on my face.

This is the first time that I have computer time and nothing to say. I really have enjoyed the trip so far. The people and the scenery have been spectacular. You would not believe how many people I have seen from the States on their way to Alaska. Think about joining them. You won’t be disappointed.

Goodnight.

Mike

Day 9
June 22, 2006
Laird River Hot Springs

The time changed to Pacific Standard, but my body hadn’t so it had me up at 5 am. I quickly packed up the bike and even pushed it away from the people who had been so kind as to let me stay behind their RV. The bike is loud and I didn’t want to wake them up.

When I checked my phone messages, I had a call from Patrick, the guy I had met in Montana. He was in the town about 70 miles ahead of me. As I rode and thought about the situation, I realized that chances were slim that we would meet up again. I thought maybe I could get ahead of him and call. Because of the expense and the lack of service neither of us used our cell phones. I was pretty much resigned to the fact that a chance meeting was impossible.

After an hour or so I realize that I was almost out of gas. I was on the edge of Fort Nelson when I saw a Shell station. I knew they had premium gas and I was now on the reserve tank. As I pulled into the gas station, I saw a bike next to the premium pump. I pulled to the other side of the pump. The bike looked slightly familiar, but I have seen a lot of bikers and bikes as I have traveled. As I was getting ready to pump the gas into my bike, I heard a voice saying, “Hey Mike, nice to see you again.”

I looked around to see who the other Mike was. I didn’t recognize the voice. I looked toward the building and there was Patrick coming out of the station. We marveled that fate had us meet up again so we decided to ride together.

We headed to Laird River. It was about 250 miles away. The ride through the mountains was absolutely stunning. The roads gently swept around the mountains. We rode over a mountain pass and it was really, really cold. The sky was covered with clouds but at least it wasn’t raining. Believe me I was not complaining! The road was good and the scenery continued to capture my attention. The road followed the edge of a lake with a steep mountain at the other edge of the road. It must have been 200 feet to the top of the mountain. The lake water was the strangest shade of blue I had ever seen.

We had to be careful banking curves. One time just as we started into the curve we spotted mountain goats on the road in the blind part of the curve. They were standing in the middle of the road or at the edge licking the salt left from winter. Goats are a bit skittish and unpredictable. We also saw deer along the side of the road. Because of the danger, we slowed down as we approached every curve. I was glad that Patrick was leading. I was a quarter of a mile behind him so it was easy riding for me.

When we arrived at Laird River, the campground was full. The park rangers let us stay in the day area. We were camped on a gravel walkway. The towns around here are few and far between. Let me explain what a town consists of in the Yukon. It is usually 2 to 4 gas pumps and a small restaurant. Sometimes they might have a tiny convenience store. A big town might have camping for tents and RVs. Some even have a small motel. They are 50 to 75 miles apart. Consequently I could ride for hours without have to slow down for a town. Stop lights were only in the really large towns and there were not many of those in this part of the world.

After setting up the tents, we went to eat and get a beer. We were told if we wanted to have a beer, we would have to drive two hours in either direction. Both Patrick and I carry a little something to help us sleep. What an excuse that is. After riding 10 or more hours a day, I had no problem sleeping. I still had plenty of my medicine for a night cap since I had bought a bottle of rye whiskey made in Alberta the day before.

After dinner we went to explore the hot springs. There was a bath house, but no shower. The water was really hot but I hobbled into it anyway. My body has taken a beating riding day after day. As I grew used to the temperature, the stiffness just washed away. I can’t tell you how relaxing it was to just have the water wash over me. It was a perfect way to get rid of the road ache.

After soaking in the hot springs, we cleaned and organized the bikes. The guy camped near us was in the army. He and his family were on their way to his next duty station in Anchorage. He, his wife and their 7 kids were in a van pulling a huge trailer. I mentioned something about the number of kids. He replied, “I finally found something I was really good at.” When they went down to the hot springs, he lined the kids up with himself in the lead and his wife bringing up the rear. It was so different seeing children so well behaved as they practically marched to the springs. You couldn’t ask for nicer neighbors.

After our neighbors left we decide to have an evening cocktail. We had no glasses, not even a brown paper bag. I felt like a wino passing the bottle back and forth. Another biker came in as we were talking. He had been on the road for 3 months. We shared our refreshments with him and sat around telling road stories for about an hour or two.

It was a pleasant evening and the hot springs sure took the road ache out of my body. I am really ready for a good night sleep.

Good night.

Mike

Day 10
June 23, 2006
White Horse, Yukon

Before I start, let me tell you that I am in an internet gaming place. I just lost my entire journal and I have to retype it because I ran out of time and the whole thing shut down. I don’t type that well to begin with. I am really frustrated. I was so upset that the guy running the place told me I could have as much time as I wanted for free.

We were up at 5:30 am and headed to White Horse. No coffees this morning because there was nothing open in the town. We had to drive 70 miles to the next town.

It is about 40 degrees, and I had to wear two pairs of long underwear under my jeans and the chaps to stay warm. Patrick has an electric vest and gloves. Those guys from California think of everything. He lent me his non-electric gloves. They have gauntlets on them so the wind can’t run up my sleeve. We had been on the road for only an hour when we came upon an entire herd of buffalo grazing along the edge of the road. It was really something. A little later we saw black bears crossing the road. We spotted bear several times in the first 50 miles. The best was the two brown bear cubs that were playing alongside the road. I would have stopped and taken pictures, but I knew momma bear had to be somewhere near.

We stopped for breakfast when we filled up for gas in Watson Lake. As we walked into the restaurant, a biker asked us if we wanted to join him. As we ate he told us his story.

He had left Texas last Friday. He had two friends riding with him. They had been riding pretty hard for the last several days. They were covering close to 600 miles a day. One of the guys was trailing back and didn’t see his friends slow down for a motor home that was parked half on the road looking at two bear cubs playing.

David, the Texan telling the story, said he assumed that his friend was road mesmerized. I have experienced the same thing when pushing myself to cover a lot of miles. You just kind of blank out. Anyway the rider didn’t see his friends until he was almost on top of them. He swerved to avoid a direct collision, and clipped the back of his friend’s bike. Consequently he laid the bike down and skidded several hundred feet. He was not badly hurt and miraculously the bike was still mechanically undamaged. Unfortunately both the rider and the bike had a nasty case of road rash.

The next day the biker could hardly walk. He convinced his two friends to continue on to Alaska. David said that they were reluctant to leave him, but he insisted. As David told the story, I could see that leaving his friend still bothered him.

Several days later, David and his friend were headed to their campsite when his friend hit a pot hole and fell off the bike. The guy shattered the bone in his leg. He had to be flown to Anchorage to a hospital. David found a truck that was deadheading back to Texas and was going to leave on Sunday. He wanted to go to Skagway to at least say that he had been to Alaska. They were originally going to Fairbanks. He wanted to know if he could ride with us.

When we left the restaurant and there were several bikers from Michigan. One of the guys was from Holt and the other from Mason. They are small towns near where I grew up. It just amazes me how small the world can be.

As we left town, we stopped alongside the road. There in front of us was a two acre grove of road signs. They were on posts that were at least 20 feet tall. There were road signs that told how many miles to go to a city. Signs that told you the name of the town you are entering town. All of the signs were stolen. I saw one from Dearborn, Michigan and one for Brookfield, WI. I had been to both towns many times. There were several hundred posts with dozens of street signs attached to them. The signs were not only from Canada and the United States, but from countries all over the world. I took a picture because no one would believe me.

We rode with David for about 200 miles. I know that he is a good rider, but all of his bad luck made me a bit nervous. He is also a group rider. He was right behind me. I am not used to having someone that close to me. He must have sensed my apprehension because he would drop back when he notice me watching the mirror a lot. I was relieved when he split off, and we continued to White Horse.

The rest of the ride through the mountains continued to be breath taking. We drove 425 miles that day and arrived in White Horse at about 4 pm. We decided to get a motel. When we pulled in, the guys I saw in Dawson Creek from Mississippi were there. We had also seen them the day before when we stopped for gas.

It is nice to sleep in a bed and take a shower. We walked into town and had a pleasant evening. We met lots of bikers and local people. Everyone was so friendly. Still having trouble with the fact that it never really gets dark, I still don’t know why I brought a flashlight.

Good night,

Mike

Day 11
June 24, 2004
White Horse

Dear Friends and Family,

I am still in White Horse. Patrick and I got an oil change this morning. I have driven 3,700 miles since my last oil change. The owner of the oil changed place was looking through some pretty watery eyes this morning. He must have had a tough time getting up. In fact he still smelled of booze. He told me that I could change my own oil since mine was a Jap bike and it was a Harley shop. He was not being rude; he wanted to save me some money and he doesn’t work on any bike but a Harley. He did offer me a beer. I hadn’t had breakfast so I declined. He didn’t give Patrick the opportunity to change on the oil on his Harley. Consequently my bill was about half the price of Patrick’s. Once again I am thankful to own a rice burner.

This trip has certain been a collection of memories. Well I am caught up with you. I start out tomorrow morning for Anchorage.

Mike

Day 12
June 25, 2006
Tok, Alaska

Dear Friends and Family,

I did it; I reached Alaska, but I guess I should start in the beginning.

Saturday night Patrick and I walked around White Horse. We revisited some of the bars we had closed down the night before. It gave us a chance to visit with some of the friends we made. We went to the hotel at 9 and were in bed by 10. We both have a long ride in the morning.

We were both up at 5:30 and planning for the next legs of our respective trips. Patrick is going south while I am heading north.

We took pictures of each other alongside our bikes, said our goodbyes and gave the tradition biker departure, “Keep the rubber side down.” We both drove off in different directions just as we had the week before in Montana.

I was feeling kind of sad when we split. I had enjoyed his company. Our personalities are very similar and our strengths seem to complement each other. It had been pleasant to have someone to talk to while eating or walking into a bar with someone to talk with rather than always being alone.

After riding for a half hour, I began to remember how much I like riding alone.

Today was a tough day. It was the coldest day I have experienced yet. Even my double long underwear wasn’t doing the trick. I had so many clothes on I looked like the Pillsbury Dough Boy in leather. I could hardly kick my leg over the bike. I bought a pair of insulated gloves in White Horse and still the tips of my fingers were numb.

Today was the ride of ice-covered mountains. Of the 400 miles I rode today, I was looking at steep ice covered mountains three-fourths of the ride. The scenery was beautiful what I saw of it. There were quite a few large lakes nestled among the mountains and several times I was riding along the edge of them. Unfortunately the road was taking most of my attention. It wasn’t horrible, but I had to pay constant attention. There were lots of frost heaves. They cause part of road to rise. They are like moguls on a ski hill. Every time my mind began to wander or I looked up to admire the scenery, I found my butt leaving the seat as the bike leaped into the air. It was the jarring landing that really bothered me. In addition I had to watch for the potholes. I am luckier than the cars and RVs, at least I can dodge them. The bad areas are usually marked with red flags alongside the road. To add to the scenery distracters, there were miles of patches of loose gravel. I ate a lot of dust. The bike hardly resembles the glistening piece of iron I had lavished with time and polish.

It was not a bad ride; it was tiring because of the total concentration it took. My stops were only for gas until I reached the Alaska border. I stopped and a woman took my picture in front of the welcome to Alaska sign. I had driven 3,900 miles to cross that line.

After I crossed the border, I stopped for gas. It was so nice to pay U.S. prices again. I could tell that the weather was changing. Off to the north the cloud cover was dark. I started out of the gas stop and turned right around and once again geared up for rain. I had driven no more than a half mile when the sky opened up. I thought that the droplets must be really big because they hurt when they hit me. Then it dawned on me. I was in a hail storm. It was bouncing off my helmet and windshield. I luckily found a shelter in a rest stop and I pulled the bike into the opening of the men’s bathroom. It was a good place for the bike and me to sit out the storm. The reprieve only lasted about 20 minutes and I started the 90 miles trek to Tok. I discovered that the roads were even worse on this side of the border. During the rest of the ride, it gently rained and I had to deal with wet roads, which is a lot easier than hail.

Tok is a tiny town nestled among ice-covered mountains. The clouds covered the tops of the mountains but the ice covering was still visible. I decided to motel it because of the rain. By the way, the time changed again. I am now 3 hours earlier than Chicago.

I am going to bed early; I have 325 miles to drive to Anchorage. Half of the dream which started over a year ago is close to being complete. Obviously the other half will be getting home.

Good night,

Mike

Day 13
June 26, 2006
Anchorage, Alaska

Dear Friends and Family,

Last night I fell asleep at 8:30 and was up at 5:30. It rained last night just as I expected. The bike was not too wet since I put it on the sidewalk alongside my room. The overhang protected it from most of the rain.

After eating a huge breakfast, I was ready to roll by 7. It was dark and overcast; it started to lightly sprinkle as I left. The snow-covered mountains were barely visible because of the clouds.

The road construction started 10 miles outside of town. There were 4 antique cars in the line waiting for the lead car to take us through the construction site. I visited with the owners. They were also on their way to Anchorage after attending an antique car rally in the Yukon. One of the cars was a 1966 Ford Mustang. I had a 1968; as I was talking, I began to realize that both the car and I are antiques. I prefer to think of the car and I as classics rather than antiques.

I was allowed to get to the front of the line and off we went. The next 46 miles were interesting, dirt roads, pot holes and mud were common place. Both the bike and I were covered in mud. At another construction stop – a rather short one- I put on my rain jacket. The flag woman told me it had snowed 2 days before. From how badly I was shivering, I believed her. Later I saw a little snow in the air.

The road got better but the light rain and cold made it a tough ride. At times I stopped to get the feeling back into my toes and fingers. I won’t describe what I had to go through to go to the bathroom. You can imagine the number of layers I had to get through. I am not complaining; it is what it is.

What I saw of the countryside was beautiful. I know that I say that all of the time. I had to cross quite a few mountains. There were also some stretches of long river valleys. The rain made it a little less interesting. It is hard to enjoy the road when you have to be so cautious. The last thing I wanted was to have the bike to slide out from under me. It will be a fun ride on the way home if it doesn’t rain.

I arrived in Anchorage at 4:00. I am sitting in Bill and Annette’s home on the south side of the city. The place is beautiful. It is very kind of them to let Francie and me use it. Since my cell phone works and we have no roaming, I made my phone calls letting everyone know I had made it. Yes, Francie you were right, I should carry a cell phone.

I was exhausted when I reached my final destination but rejuvenated when thinking about what I have done. I made it to Anchorage. What was once a dream is now a reality! The trip up has been everything I had hoped it would be. I have seen breath-taking scenery, met wonderful people, and become part of both.

I called Lucinda, my friend Michael Whitmore’s aunt. Michael and I have worked together for years at Morton East High School. He arranged with his aunt and uncle for me to come and visit them. They live on an island off of Homer and have an oyster farm. Lucinda was very gracious on the phone. I am looking forward to meeting her and her husband Kevin. I will be taking the ferry at 9:30 pm. Another adventure is about to happen.

My body may be exhausted but my spirit soars.

Every year a song will get stuck in my head and I sing it to myself over and over again. I have ridden 4, 600 miles singing, “City of New Orleans” by Steve Goodman. I think I have the tune mastered, but I still don’t know the words.

Goodnight,
Mike

Day 14
June 27, 2006
Anchorage, Alaska

Dear Friends and Family,

I am still having trouble with the time change. When I got up I didn’t know what time it was. My body clock needs some adjusting.

I am at the Diamond Mall waiting for the library to open. What a place!!!! It is a 6 or 7 story building with shops and offices. The middle of the building has a large skating rink and all floors look out onto it. Since I have to wait for the library to open, I have a chance to write to you. I haven’t emailed since Saturday, and I have to check on my credit card bill. That part makes me a little fearful.

My plans for the day are to clean all of that road dirt off the bike and rest up. I leave for Homer in the morning and it is 220 miles. It is cold so I will be back in all of those cold weather clothes. I have been told the ride will be beautiful. It will give me more to write about.

The library is near Walmart. The place is everywhere. There was one in White Horse in the Yukon. It seems that every town that has a mall has the same stores. What does that tell you? I can tell the size of a town if I see a McDonald’s or Subway.

Until later,

Mike

Day 15
June 28, 2006
Homer Alaska

Dear Friends and Family,

I am sitting in the Salty Dawg Saloon on the Homer Spit. I believe this is the most unique bar I have ever experienced. It is a little log building with very low ceilings. There has to be a thousand dollars with people’s names and the dates; they are all over the walls and ceilings. I also notice a few bras and even a thong; there must be a really interesting story attached to them or I have been on the bike too long. The whole building can’t be more than 40 feet square. The floor is covered with wood chips. It has a bar and several wooden tables. Strangers are force to sit together just to have a place to sit. The tables have been carved on with names and dates. I was told that this place is a must if you come to the Homer Spit.

Looking out the door there are snowcapped mountains- they seem to be everywhere. Lucinda, Michael’s cousin, said that the Saltly Dawg has been here for three generations. It truly is an interesting place.

I guess I should back up a bit and tell you about my day. I was up early and ready to go, but had told Lucinda that I would call at 8 am. This all seems a little strange going to staying with people that I have never meet before. I am sure it is a little strange for them also.

Today is a bikers dream-not a cloud in the sky and curving roads. Homer is 220 miles – a half day ride. It is a bit chilly but nothing like the days I have already experienced.

Mike

Day 16
June 29, 2006
Halibut Cove Alaska

Dear Friends and Family,
I went for a walk along the shore this morning while Kevin mowed the lawn. The tide was out and it was fun to explore the sea bottom without getting wet. The tide is 16 -18 feet. It is odd to see boats and anchor lines just lying on the ground. It reminded me of being in Nova Scotia’s Bay of Fundy.

It was fascinating looking at all of the formations and creatures that remain after the tide goes out. Later Kevin took me to their floating oyster warehouse. Lucinda was working getting the weekly order ready for Monday. I helped count oyster and the whole process was fascinating. Both Lucinda and Kevin are industrious people.

I have had a great time. I no longer feel like a stranger. We sat around and talked at night. Lucinda is an excellent cook. My only fear is that I will gain the weight I lost.

I am running out of time to write.

Later

Mike

Day 17
June 30, 2006
Halibut Cove

The morning was gray and overcast, but I could still see the mountain out the window.

Today Kevin worked on framing out a bathroom in part of the lodge. They plan to open as a bed and breakfast next season so there is a lot to keep him busy. The lodge is on the top of a ridge so everything has to be brought up to the lodge. When I looked out at all of the lumber and the size of the beams, I realized what a task that is. There are no stores or gas stations on the island. Everything they need had to be brought over on the skiff from Homer and hauled up to the lodge with their 6 wheeler.

Today I helped Lucinda learn how to use e-mail and Word. We made letterhead and two information sheets about rates and reservations. She is quick a learner and her confidence is growing. I had her write Francie and attach the rate sheet we created. It was fun for me and gave me a chance to repay the hospitality they shared with me.

Lucinda and I walked into Halibut Cove. It is a 2 mile walk down – that was the easy part. She showed me the art galleries and introduced me to several of the artists. It is such a peaceful place as well as stunningly beautiful.

We continued our computer lessons when we returned. After dinner we just sat and talked. I felt so comfortable with both of them. It is hard to believe I was a total stranger two nights ago.

Lucinda and I talked until 11PM. They are going to go to Homer for more lumber in the morning so I will ride with them.

Mike

Day 18 July 1
Anchorage

We left Halibut Cove around 8:30. Lucinda reviewed what we had done on the computer the day before. You can’t take the teacher out of me! They joked with me about giving a quiz first thing in the morning.

We had coffee on the Spit. I was able to get pictures of Kevin and Lucinda on my bike. I was sad to leave new friends behind, but Francie is coming tomorrow and I need to do laundry.

When I arrived back at the house I saw a baby moose in the back yard. I quickly retrieved my camera and slowly kept creeping closer to get a good picture. Then I spotted momma. She had not moved but was intently watching me. I decided to use the camera’s zoom rather than try to get closer. I figured it was safer. Mommy was a big animal and I am sure she didn’t want me around junior. It was so exciting.

This trip has been better than I could have imagined. People have been so helpful and kind. Strangers have gone out of their way to help and treat me as if I were a friend.

I am looking forward to Francie’s arrival. I have been gone a long time. Every day has brought a new adventure. I want to share that experience with her.

Mike

Day 19
July 2, 2006
Anchorage

Dear Friends and Family,

I noticed that I was feeling a bit odd yesterday. This morning after talking to Francie and the nurse on call at my doctor’s office, I decided I should see a doctor. I found a hospital and went to emergency. I have an infection and was given antibiotics for it. I spent most of the day sleeping because I was running a high fever. I was hoping to be better by the time Francie arrived.

She didn’t get in until 11pm. She was a bit surprised that it was still daylight. It was beginning to get dark when we went to bed around 1am.

Mike

Day 20
July 3, 2006
Anchorage

We are both tired. She is adjusting to the time change, and I am still running a slight fever. We did some grocery shopping at Costco and are just taking it easy. This is the first time I have walked out of Costco not spending hundreds of dollars. Two saddle bags and my backpack sure cuts down on the number of items we can buy. We did manage to get enough food for 4 or 5 days and plenty of wine. We ventured downtown in the afternoon. Francie has done well on the bike. I was doing 65 mph to keep up with the traffic. I am not sure she really took a breath the entire ride. I supposed I should have noticed that she didn’t move the entire ride into the city. The rest of the riding she seemed comfortable because we never went faster than 30. I keep reminding her I drove over 4000 mile to get here; I really know what I am doing.

Day 21
July 4, 2006
Anchorage

We took a 20-mile motorcycle trip along the Cook Inlet in Anchorage. The first half of the trip is all up hill. I wasn’t aware of it until we rode back. It was a beautiful day. Maybe it wasn’t a great idea since I am still a little under the weather and Francie is adjusting to the weather and light but it was fun.

I felt well all day but at night the fever started again. Despite the fever, we have been having a good time looking around Anchorage.

Mike

Day 22
July 5, 2006
Anchorage

Francie is very happy today because we pick up the car. She has gotten better riding into town. She has stopped holding her breath although she still doesn’t move and she no longer mumbles under her breath.

When we returned with the car, we did a few chores and then went for a ride. We drove to Thunderbird Falls. It is about 30 miles from the house. After parking, we walked up hill about a mile to get to the falls. The path was surrounded by woods and we could hear the roaring of the water in the distance. The path ended at a lookout where we took each other’s picture. The falls were breathtaking. On the way back we walked to the water’s edge and watched it rush by.

From there we went to the headquarters for the Iditarod Race. We watched an interesting movie about the race. Francie talked to the son of the man who started the race. He has done 14 races. We even went for a ride with the dogs pulling a cart on wheels. We took more pictures and looked for junk to bring home. Francie really wanted to find Wolf, our daughter Erin’s dog, a gift. They had lots of t-shirts but no doggie shirts.

Mike

Day 23
July 6, 2006
Seward

We are on our way to Seward. It is on the coast and we are taking a nature tour boat ride. We had some time to kill and were walking the docks looking at sailboats when we started to talk to a couple also walking the dock. They have just completed a 26-day passage from Hawaii. They have been living aboard their boat for the last 3 years. They invited us aboard their boat. We had millions of questions to ask, but unfortunately we had to go and get on the tour boat. It was really fun to meet someone doing what we want to do eventually.

The highlight of the boat tour for me was seeing an enormous glacier. The face was 200 feet high and a mile across. The captain turned the boat sideways and stopped the engines. You could hear the glacier move. It made a cracking sound and pieces would fall off. I thought to myself, I wonder what it would look like if a big piece fell. Shortly after that thought, I heard a loud cracking sound and watched an 80 –90 foot chunk of a glacier fall into the water. It looked a little like a tree falling. I have no idea how many tons of ice dropped but the splash was like an explosion as it hit the water. The sound echoed and a large wave came toward us. Shortly after the first explosion of ice another column came down. I only caught it out of the corner of my eye. It wasn’t a high column like the other one, rather than crash like a tree; it slide into the water. The mass must have been larger because the wave was larger. It was very impressive.

We saw whales but after our trip to Nova Scotia where the whale came up to the side of the boat and just played with us, we are very spoiled. We still enjoyed the sightings. It was nice to be out on the water again. I miss the sailing. The water is a brisk 40 degrees and the air is not much better. This is not Francie’s idea of summer. We stayed in a bed and breakfast for the night.

Mike

Day 24
July 7, 2006
Anchorage

We got up early and went to Exit Glacier. It was a short walk and a good way to start the day. The blue ice and just the magnitude of the glacier fascinate me. Later we hiked 6 miles to see another falls. I made a substantial blood donation to the local mosquito population. I must admit I was feeling pretty tired by the time we returned to the car. I wasn’t sure if it was the exercise or the loose of blood.

That is all for now. The next few days are going to be little jaunts around here. We return the car Sunday night much to Francie’s trepidation. It will be back to the statue like position as she rides back to the house.
I will begin my ride down Tuesday morning. I am anxious to start the ride back down. I have had a chance to rest and the infection is gone.

Until later,

Mike

Day 26
July 9, 2006
Anchorage

Dear Friends and Family,

Today is by far the most beautiful day we have had in Alaska. Early this morning we left for Girdwood, which is about 60 miles down the coast toward Seaward. It was a bit brisk and overcast.

Our goal was to hike the Winner Creek Trail. On the way to the trail in a somewhat populated area, we spotted a moose walking towards us on the road. I pulled over while Francie scrambled for the camera! We sat there in amazement even after it had sauntered off. It was the first time Francie had seen a moose. I sat nonchalant as I recounted the moose I had seen on my trips, but in all honesty I was just as excited as she was.

When we arrived at Winner Creek Trail, we calculated how long it would take us to get to the hand tram that takes you across the river. It was 2 ½ miles away. We seem to forget that at home everything is flat. There is nothing flat here. The trail is through a luscious forest, along Winner Creek and several smaller streams. At one point the creek narrows and goes though winding stone walls, we could hear the roar of the water long before we saw it. We thought we had seen the most exciting part, but after hiking another mile we came to the hand tram. The tram is a two person cage. The cage has a thick rope through it. Pulling on the rope moved the cage off the cliff and into the ravine. As we pulled, the cage would sway. At first it was a little nerve racking especially since the other bank was about 50 feet away. We were about a 100 feet above a ravine where two creeks meet. We pulled ourselves to the middle and took pictures and pulled ourselves back to the same side from which we left.

Back on the trail we were talking excitedly about what we had seen, when a head popped up where the trail curved. I am not sure who was more surprised in this chance encounter, the black bear or Francie and me! We quickly backed down the trail. Who knows where the bear went! We had our bear bell (the idea is to make noise so as not to startle bears, that way they will avoid you – yea right). We began to walk back up the trail. Francie was a one person Salvation Army bell band; it must have worked because we didn’t see the bear again.

When we returned to the visitors’ center, we took the Tram (an electronic elevator) to the top of the mountain, 20,000 feet in 5 minutes. There was still snow and some of the ski runs were open. We watched a para-sailor ready his chute and then strap on a person to sail in tandem. The instructor calmly just walked off the side of the cliff. One minute they were on the mountain and the next they were in the air. That must be a real rush. We watched them gliding through the air until they landed in a field on the other side of the parking lot. Later we saw one land in a field near our car.

From the parking lot we caught the shuttle to the Girdwood Forest Fair. There were lots of tents with artisans, food and music. We spent a lovely afternoon listening to music and eating some delicious food. There was something very quaint and relaxing about being in the woods. It was so different than the festivals that we have gone to in Chicago.

Later,

Mike

Day 28
July 11, 2006
Beaver Creek

Dear Friends and Family,

I left Anchorage about 7:30 with the sun in my face. It was warm for a change - warm is relative. I am still in long underwear. I was concerned about retracing my route. I was afraid that some of the adventure would be diminished since I had already traveled these roads. It is not like I could find another route down. Since it was raining while I traveled this particular section of road, it was actually quite pleasant to see what I had missed. The road followed a river for miles and then I crossed several mountains. The road was good until I was about 60 miles from Tok. It was paved; then it turned to gravel then pavement again. This happened over and over again.

About 15 miles from Tok, the road was being rebuilt. Huge earth movers were racing back and forth like ants to build the new section of road. They only stopped long enough to let the line of cars following the lead car to pass, and then they were at it again. The movers dropped rock and dirt over the road that I had to travel which made the riding difficult. I had to dodged rocks and loose dirt to keep the bike upright.

I was the first to the flag woman. As I pulled up it started to rain. We talked while I put on my rain gear. I had to wait 20 minutes for the pilot car to lead us to the other side of the construction. The flag woman was from a small village about 100 miles away. She and her cousin, who drove one of the earth movers, worked from the middle of May to mid-September and then returned to the village. It was interesting listening to her talk about her village.

I drove the next 10 miles in the mud. I was covered with mud up to my knees and the bike was even in worse shape. When I got to Tok, the sun was shining and there was no evidence of rain. I debated about staying the night again in Tok, but since the weather look clear, I decided to keep going and cross into Canada which was about 110 more miles. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Leaving Tok the sun was shining and it looked to be a pleasant ride. It is amazing how looks can be deceiving. I was relaxed and looking forward to a nice enjoyable ride until I rounded the first mountain and the sky looked totally different. Sun shine on the right and dark angry clouds on the left. It was always a guess which way the road would curve. For a long time I was winning and dry. The last 60 miles I lost the gamble and kept getting wet with small rain showers. I became even muddier from all of the wet gravel patches.

I found a hostel to stay at in Beaver Creek, Yukon. It was really a tiny room with 2 single beds, a real dive, but it was at clean. I talked to the bar maid since I was the only one in the tiny bar that was connected to the motel/hostel. She and her boyfriend moved to Beaver Creek from Halifax. He is a customs agent. The entire town has 80 people. She said it is a real shock especially during the winter when there are no tourists. They wanted this duty; it pays better because of the isolation. It was interesting.

Well that's it for now.

Mike

Day 29
July 12, 2006
White Horse, Yukon

Dear Friends and Family,

Last night, I decided I would be more comfortable sleeping in my own sleeping bag. I don't think there were bed bugs; I think my imagination was getting ahead of me. Although there were two bikers who were also staying here and they looked pretty scummy. I know that is a generalization, but despite my liberal ideals, I slept in my sleeping bag.

This morning the sky looked cloudy but with patches of sunshine. This time I wasn't fool enough to decide if today was going to be a dry riding day. As it turned out, I played the same game as I did yesterday. The sides had switched sunshine on the right and rain clouds on the left. I won most of the day. Sometime the road would curve and it would sprinkle; other times it would be like a wall of rain. Most of time it would only last until the road curved again into the sunshine. It was a strange day. I rode the entire day without the rain gear.

In White Horse I went to the visitor center and watched a movie about the Yukon. As I was leaving, I was told about a small film festival they were having that night so I came back. The films were made in the Yukon. One was narrated by a 12 year old boy. His parent each summer took him to the Arctic Refuge for 6 years. The basic idea was to show the beauty and convince the US not to drill for oil. The second was an animated film; the third was about looking for the cabin of Jack London who had lived in the Yukon for some years before he became a serious writer. They were all good and an interesting way to spend an evening.

I am staying in a Hostel again. This one is a house and has quite a few people in it. The lady showed me my bunk and around the house. It is very nice. There are 4 of us in the room. I was a little surprised to see that one of my bunk mates was a young girl. My first thought was what am I going to wear at night? I wasn't prepared to be around a young woman in what I wear to bed. I found my swimming suit at the bottom of my pack.

I met a biker from Germany. He had his bike shipped to LA in early June and has to return in August. When he returns, he is having the bike shipped to Australia to ride for 3 more months. Then he is going somewhere else for 2 months. We have had a great time swapping stories. He is very interesting. He works for a large engineering firm. He has saved all of his vacation time for the last 4 years to take the trip. This is his first motorcycle ride. He had already ridden 9,000 miles. He was in Fairbanks and rode down to White Horse to have the bike serviced. It is about 600 miles. He is going back to Alaska to explore for a couple of weeks. We talked about the people we met. He rode a couple of days with a Mexican, a French person and another German. They all met one at a time. It is the way of the road. We sat and talked until midnight.

The hostel has been a great experience. I am waiting for my bunkies to wake up so I took the opportunity to catch up with you.

The next few days will be down the Alaskan Highway and I might not find a place to write to you so I will talk to you in a few days.

Mike

Day 30
July 13, 2006
Watson Lake, Yukon

Dear Friends and Family,

I said my goodbyes to the friends I had made at the hostel. The German guy, I didn’t learn his name, walked me out to the bike. We said the typical biker departure and off I went on a new adventure.

I have been talking to you in my head or because there are so many of you - yous as we say in Cicero, a great deal this morning. I realized I have spoken very little about the Yukon. I wish I had the words to express sights and feelings that I experienced. On either side of the road are dense forests and flowers in shades of yellow, purple and pink. There are lakes that stretch for miles without jet skis, motorboats, and cottages. It is nature untouched by man. The mountains are majestic with their snowcaps being caressed by white clouds.

I was told there are only 36,000 people in the Yukon. If you look at a map, you realize how sparsely populated it really is. The same man told me that most of the population lives along the ALCAN. If you go 30 miles in either direction of the highway, there is absolutely nothing but wilderness. There is something very special about this land. I wish I was a poet or a song writer to adequately express the sheer beauty and how I am feeling as I ride through the landscape.

I am sitting beside a large lake. Two huge crows or ravens the sizes of chickens have just come to visit. They are less than 10 feet from me. One just jumped on my bike.

I feel fortunate to have had this experience. Thank you for coming along this journey with me. You have no idea how much I talk to you in a day. Is that better than talking to myself? I better get going since the mosquitoes are trying desperately to get a blood donation.

Shortly after I finished the first part of the journal, I rounded the mountain and it started to rain. I put on the gear instead of chancing that it might be a brief shower. Moments later it began to pour with lightening flashing. There was nowhere to go; it stopped 10 miles later. At one point I saw a wall of rain in front of me. I thought “wow” those look like big drops. It was hail again. The stuff hurts at 60 miles an hour. Again there was nowhere to go so I rode through it. The next 100 miles were rain free.

I arrived in Watson Lake in a sprinkling rain. Camping was out of the question so I went to the Air Force Lodge. It was a WWII US Air Force housing unit. It was restored to the original configuration. It is more of a hostel with private rooms and with a community bathroom. The couple who owns and remodeled it were from Germany. The place was spotless. The front was decorated with the most beautiful hanging baskets of flowers I have ever seen.

I was planning to go to town when I saw Elizabeth, the owner, directing a school bus with what looks like a house on top of it back up. The outside walls of the bus were covered in plywood with real house windows in the sides. It was two stories tall. This is a real motor home. I had to go see it. I met Mike, Elizabeth’s husband. He told me all about his structure. We talked about his design, living in Germany and other projects he completed and plans for future projects. I took pictures; you won’t believe it. It was a fascinating conversation with a truly unique individual. He is so talented. Once again it is the people I meet that make the trip so interesting.

It never stopped rain so I decided I would eat in the morning. Elizabeth asked me if I had gone to town. When I said no, she insisted that I eat a bowl of soup. They are such nice people. Well at least tonight I won’t have to crawl into the top bunk.

Mike

Day 31
July 14, 2006
Fort Nelson, BC

Dear Friends and Family,

When I looked at all of the dark rain clouds this morning, it dampened my spirits. I began to realize just how far from home I am. For a brief moment I wondered if I could keep going. I slowly climbed back on bike and headed out of town. After about 30 minutes on the road, I was feeling positive again. My spirits were also lifted by the critters I saw today. First I saw a large black bear just off the road. He slowly turned to look at me and continued on his way. I had slowed down when I saw him in case he decided to cross the road. Next I saw a motor home on the side of the road; experience has taught me that they may be looking at wildlife. They were watching two full grown brown bears. I made sure that I was prepared for any sudden movements. Later I saw two bison walking along the road. Further up the road, I had to stop to let an entire herd cross. There were several of us waiting. When a bull was standing next to me, I realized he is the size of my bike and me. Believe me, the bison where in no hurry.

By the end of the day, I had seen 6 black bears, three brown bears, the bison, two groups of mountain goats, and two elk. All of them were beside the road. It kept me very alert. Most of the day it rained lightly, but not enough to make it hard to see. I was going through one mountain pass after another. I had to be very careful around the corners in case animals were in the road plus there were many gravel patches. This is the same area that I traveled at 65 and 70 when I was heading up. Now I was doing 45 – 65 depending on conditions. All in all, it was difficult. It could have been much worse so I didn’t allow myself to complain.

The last 50 miles were dry. My rain gear dried out but I was hot. I decided to get a room in Fort Nelson rather than push on. I was getting a bit dazed, and I knew it would be dangerous if I pushed any further.

The extra time has given me a chance to write to you, clean the bike a little and do my laundry. I also am looking forward to a beer.

That is it for now. I have two full days of riding before I turn east. I am looking forward to seeing the woods of Ontario, my wife and friends on Mackinac Island after the race. I am hoping for less rain and warmer weather. I am tired of long underwear.

Mike

Day 32
July 15, 2006
McLennan, Alberta

Dear Friends and Family,

I was up at 5:30 so I could get an early start. The weather report said it would rain in the afternoon. You would think by now that I would be smart enough to not believe the weather report. I was 10 minutes out of town when it started to rain. Actually I saw more wet roads than I experienced rain. The majority of the day was sunshine. It was cold in the passes, but I am not complaining.

At 4:00 I decided to end the day. I went to the only bar in town. Rick, the owner and bartender, was a bit abrupt but warmed up after we talked a bit. He introduced me to the other patrons and before long I felt right at home. Tammy who worked part time was also a village administrator.

I went to the town camping area. Tammy called ahead to let Bruce, the person who runs the place, know I was coming. He has a real enthusiastic personality and told me to come over for a beer with him and his wife on their deck. We talked for over an hour. I learned more about the town and the oil patch that was discovered nearby. He has a variety of jobs during the summer, but is a teaching assistant during the school year. His wife is a banker. I went to town for dinner and had several conversations about the bike with people inside and outside the restaurant. It is such a friendly town.

Later I went back to the bar. Tammy told me about the drug problems they have in town and the violence it has sparked. Crack is a huge problem. The town has only 900 people. I think of small towns as being free from that kind of problem.

I talked to lots of people. It was like a mini Strathmore. I felt like a celebrity. I learned lots about the people and the town. I was invited to several people’s homes for a barbecue the next day.

Since I was driving the bike, I was watching what I had to drink. Sandy, Rick’s wife, was the bartender. She offered to let me put the bike in the bar and she would drive me to the campsite. When I said I would rather drive it and monitor my intake, she said if I didn’t want the shots people were buying me, she would put water in it instead of booze. It worked well. I said goodnight at about 1 AM to my new friends and drove the half mile back to my tent.

Mike

Day 33
July 16, 2006
Morinville, Alberta

Dear Friends and Family,

I slept late and the plan was to take it easy today. I left town around 11 am and headed to Slave Lake. The lake is about 85 miles long and 14 miles wide. I looked around the town, talked to another biker and decided to leave town. I just didn’t find it that interesting. I rode for another hour and stopped for coffee and talked to a guy and his wife on a bike like mine. It was 4 o’clock and I should have stopped for the day, but the people told me of a cute town 45 minutes away. Somehow I missed the town, drove for over an hour and a half and ended up on the edge of Edmonton. I was really frustrated because I didn’t want to be that close to a city. After looking at the map, I went back 10 miles to Morinville. When I hit town I was feeling very frustrated so much for taking it easy.

I decide to motel it. I wanted to have a phone to call Francie and the kids. I went to the local bar to get information and the people were a bit unfriendly. I did learn that there was only one motel in town. When I got to my room, it was run down and the phone didn’t work. I was in a bad mood to start with and that just made it worse. The place was more of a transient hotel. I also left my coat in the office of the motel. There is a phone you can use to call the owners who are not on the premises. The guy said he would be in the motel in an hour and a half. That just made me madder. When I received my coat, I went out to look at the town and get supper. I saw a little bar and decided to stop for a beer. I was still in a really bad mood. I started talking to a guy by the name of Bob. When I told him I was from Chicago, he became very excited. He had gone to a Cub’s/Expo’s game at Wrigley in 1990. He told me how much he loved Chicago. He introduced me to his friends. It was just what I needed to get rid of the mood I was in. As we talked I could feel my spirits lifting. Tara the bartender had invited her parents to the bar that night. Bob had them join us. Before long I was feeling among friends and the evening just seem to slip by. Bob and his friends had changed my entire mood, and I once again had a positive outlook.

I didn’t need to have a negative attitude since I still have 2,000 mile to go.

Good night,

Mike

Day 34
July 16, 2006
North Battleford, SK

Dear Friends and Family,

Before leaving Morinville, I asked a fellow biker where I should go for breakfast. He sent me to what I thought he said was “The Lodge.” He asked if I minded eating with old people, but it didn’t sink in. When I walked into the building, I realized I was in a retirement center. I told the woman at the desk that this had to be a mistake, but she said they used to serve breakfast to the public. It turns out the biker is a custodian at the place. I am open to new experiences, but this was a bit strange. Why fate aligned my morning in this way I have no idea. Was I seeing my future? The kitchen staff was friendly. When I explained that a guy on a Harley had sent me, well that seemed to explain everything. I had the feeling they were definitely going to have a conversation with the custodian.

Today is the first day that I have not worn long underwear. (I have never talked about my underwear so much in my life.) I am even wearing a T-shirt. I bought a t-shirt in Anchorage that says, “Old bikers never die, they just can’t get off.” It has a picture of an old guy on a bike. There have been days that I felt like that. I have driven 7,300 miles so far. I stopped in North Battleford to get the bike’s oil changed. They even let me use their computer to check my email. I didn’t have enough time to get caught up on the journal so I will make it a priority in the morning.

I had a bit of a boring ride. The road is 4 lanes and it is flat since I am in the prairie. This morning I went through Edmonton; it made me very nervous to be surrounded by cars. I think I would rather look for moose or bears as obstacles rather than cars. I am not sure which is more predictable. Going back into Chicago is really going to be nerve racking. I am so used to being alone on the road for hundreds of miles at a time.

I am camping tonight. The first shock was no mosquitoes and the second one was it was actually hot. I am caught up with today’s part of the journey. I need to find food. I am about 3 miles from town.

Mike

Day 35
July 19, 2006
Russell, Manitoba

Dear Friends and Family,

Good morning - I am writing this as I wait for breakfast so I will tell you about yesterday's ride.

It took me a little longer to break camp than normal because it had rained last night. It was quite a thunder storm, but not a heavy rain. The sun is out now and it looks to be a beautiful day.

My plan is to cross Saskatchewan and be in Manitoba by the end of the day. The landscape is flat but the colors are beautiful. The golden wheat fields look ready for harvest. The farms are large and stretch for miles. In addition to the wheat fields there are fields and fields of a plant with a yellow flower. I have no idea what it is. When the wind is blowing in the right direction, I can smell a sweet fragrance from the flowers.

The highway I am taking is different from the States. It is more like our secondary roads. There are cross roads, farm equipment and you have to slow day through the towns. Yet the speed limit is 65 and I am being passed like I am standing still. The other difference is that there are so few cars and trucks. This is a transcontinental highway.

It is warm and sunny. I have switched to my light helmet and summer gloves for the first time. This is such a treat from all of that long underwear and heavy clothes.

I must admit I am getting tired of riding and I am looking forward to going home. With that said, I am stilling looking forward to riding around Lake Superior. I know it will be beautiful.

Well breakfast is here and it is time to go.

Later,

Mike

Day 36
July 19, 2006
Falcon Lake, Manitoba

Dear Friends and Family,

I am waiting for the ground cover for my tent to dry so I thought I would tell you about today’s ride. It was another sunny day. What more can I ask for? I am about 20 miles west of Ontario.

The ride was through the yellow fields I told you about yesterday. They stretch for miles. At one point I saw a field that had bluish-green flowers. When I first saw it, I thought it was water. The wind was blowing strongly so it moved like water. I had no idea what kind of crop it was so I stopped at a grain elevator about 2 miles up the road.

I asked a woman who worked there what it was. It was flax. They crush the seeds to make flax oil. I swear I remember hearing about spinning flax to make cloth in the colonial days. The woman was very chatty. She told me about the farming in the area and was curious about the ride I was on. I should have spent more time talking to her because once I was back on the road; I had lots of questions about the area and the farming.

I was able to take a route around Winnipeg rather than drive through town. I am still a bit nervous about being around a lot of cars. When I stopped for gas, I talked to a couple of truckers who suggested a couple of road to take rather than my original route. They said the roads that they suggested were prettier scenery and had less traffic.

I am still amazed that I am on a transcontinental highway and there is so little traffic. I was on a 4 lane highway going into Winnipeg and coming out. I spent the last part of the day on 2 lane highway, which I prefer.

I decided to camp tonight. Falcon Lake is a provincial park. It is very large and has a place that I can do laundry.

When I got to the laundry facility they were out of soap. The camp store had only large boxes of soap. I washed the clothes anyway. They are still bound to be cleaner than they are now.

Sometimes I wish I rode with someone else. It doesn’t happen often, but I am tired of being by myself. It is hard to start up a conversation when there are no people around me. I was given a campsite that was quite remote. The bar I went to has tables to sit at rather than a bar. It makes it very hard to start up a conversation. I enjoy the riding alone and the conversation I have with people I meet along the ride. All of this isolation can change in an instant. I am not complaining because this is how I want it. I must take the good with the not so good. I have enjoyed the celebrity status and learning about other people’s lives. It always astonishes me the personal things people tell me. I hear far more than I say. Maybe people reveal personal thing to me knowing I will be miles away in the morning or maybe they reveal personal things to everyone they meet. It is an interesting aspect of the journey.

Well the laundry is almost done. I have clean jeans or at least cleaner than before. I better do laundry again before I get to the Island – this time with soap.

Mike

Day 37
July 20, 2006
Atikokan, Ontario

Dear Friends and Family,

This morning looks again like a beautiful day for riding. I stopped in Kenora, Ontario to email you. When I returned to the bike the rear tire was almost flat. I filled it with air and got directions to the Kawasaki dealer. The mechanic told me I had a slow leak, and I needed to check it every hour. When I checked it after about 100 miles, the air was fine so I kept riding.

When I got to Atikokan, I stopped at a bar/hotel. I talked to Carrie the bartender and her mother who owned the hotel. I stayed the night; the place was clean but worn.

The town is dying. One of the mills closed down, and the people were moving away. I was the only customer in the bar for hours. As Carrie told me about the town and the childhood friends that have had to move, I could feel the sadness in her voice. Later I met her husband and children. I enjoyed the people, and my hunger for conversation was quenched.

Before I went to bed, I met two guys from Chesterton, Indiana. They were fishing in a camp nearby. It sure is a small world. Francie’s sister and parents live near Chesterton. Before they left, the one man told me he always wanted to ride a motorcycle to Alaska, but now he was too old to do it. I have heard similar stories so often. The aches and pains from the ride lessened a bit when he said that.

Mike

Day 38
July 21, 2006
Nipigon, Ontario

When I got up this morning the rear tire was low on air again. I rode about 140 miles to Thunder Bay. I had called ahead to see if the Kawasaki dealer could look at the tire. When I arrived they put me ahead of all of the work they had scheduled. The people were warm and gracious. It was like I was doing them a favor. They put my bike a lift right away. It turns out that my tire had a screw and a nail in it. I am lucky the thing didn’t totally deflate as I was riding. They don’t have a tire for me so they are talking about air freighting a tire. It looks like I will be staying the night. I am 8 hours from the states. I am lucky the way things have turned out. It could have been very bad.

Later:
My luck continues. They have a set of tires for another customer. He just called returned the shop manager’s call and said I could have his tire. They are putting it on now. They keep referring to me as “the traveler.” Once again the Alaska journey has earned me a certain degree of respect and people seems to be willing to give an extra amount of effort to help me.

I left at 3 pm and headed to Nipigon; the relief washed over me as my worry about the tire lifted. I have been very concerned for the past two days. I kept thinking about how lucky I am. It could have turned out to be deadly problem.

It rained a little, but they were small cells so I just rode through them rather than put on the rain gear. When I arrived in town, I talked to a guy that worked for the railroad. He was a foreman and on his way to the next job. There was a train that had trailers like you would see in a trailer park on it. This is where the men lived while they work for two weeks and then have one week off. The train just keeps moving from location to location following the workers. It has been interesting learning about different jobs people have. The railroad workers reminded me of the people working in Alberta’s oil patches and all of the road construction people I had met along the way. The railroad man suggested a restaurant and a motel. Both suggestions worked out well. I realized that I had forgotten to eat today. This has happened to me several times during the trip. I unpacked the bike and headed to the restaurant. I was a little shocked when entered the restaurant because it looked more like someone’s kitchen. There were a few tables around the room and on a deck outside but the cooking area was open. I watched the woman make my cabbage roll soup and chicken sandwich. This was the best meal I have eaten since I left home. The soup’s flavor was out of this world and the breads were homemade. They could easily compete with restaurants in Chicago.

The bar I went to later in the evening was pretty quiet. I struck up a conversation with one guy and he told me to join the group of men at the table. I heard stories of their travels, the dying town, and the bush – areas out in the wilderness. When I said I was going to Mackinac Island, the bar maid told me about the time she was on the Island when she was 14. Her father was sick and that is where he wanted to go. Her memories were so vivid when she described the Grand Hotel, the horses with the plumes on their heads, the carriages and of course the fudge shops. They had spent the day on the Island. Her goal was to return and stay at the Grand Hotel. Her trip to the island was 27 years ago. I could feel her yearning to see the Island again. She continually spoke about it during the evening. As I left, I encouraged her to return to the Island, but from the look on her face, I knew she would never achieve that dream. Nipigon is only 500 miles from Mackinac Island, but it might as well be a million. I felt sad when I left the bar. I was reminded of all of the times I spoke to people along the way and they told me they wanted to go to Alaska, but now they can’t. I was once told that I am living the dreams of a number of people. I am so grateful to have the opportunity to take this adventure.

I went to bed early since I have at least 400 mile to ride to get to the US.

Later,

Mike

Day 39
July 22, 2006
Ste. Marie, Michigan

Dear Friends and Family,

Since I have been obsessing about the bike, I haven’t told you about the ride. I feel at home being around the Great Lakes again. The riding in this part of Ontario is exactly as I had read about in a motorcycle magazine. One stretch of Highway 71, I had been on 6 years ago when I returned from Vancouver, BC. The road twists and turns around large rock faced hills. It reminds me of the Yukon without the altitude. Highway 11 and 17 are part of the TransCanada; it is also known as the Yellowhead Highway. The road has quite a few trucks but is still sparsely populated in comparison to roads in the States. I passed lake after lake. Unlike the Yukon where I also passed lots of lake, the ones in Ontario have cottages on them.

Riding along Lake Superior was a treat. It reminded me of the coast of Oregon with the rocky cliffs against the water’s edge. I saw lots of small coves that would be perfect to anchor a sailboat. I am already making my transition to sailor. I could feel the temperature drop as the road curved along the lake and every time there was an opening in the trees the wind off of the lake would make my bike shake a bit.

Most of the day rain clouds threatened to drop their moisture on me. When a rain cloud was overhead, the temperature dropped and the wind increased making the bike shift from side to side. Sometime the road was wet, but I was only rained on a few times. I didn’t bother to put on the rain gear.

When I entered Ste. Marie, Ontario, it began to rain. I only put on my rain jacket because all I had to do was cross the border. I didn’t know that I would be in line for 20 minutes. I entered Canada in the rain; I guess it is only fair that I leave in the rain. The custom agent seemed more interested in the bike than in me. We talked while the line continued to back up.

I felt a variety of emotions as I crossed into Michigan. The strongest was, “It is good to be home!” Everything was familiar and I was comforted by a sense of belonging. The other emotion was a sense of loss. The trip was ending and so was the adventure. The need for adventure has pushed me all of these years to ride alone over many parts of this country and Canada.

I stopped at a bar which was suggested to me by a woman who exchanged my Canadian money. Beer was $1.50 compared to the $4.00 I had been paying in Canada. I spoke to a man who was a social worker. He was telling me how the town was dying. Tourism was cut in half and industry was closing and moving away. I have heard this story so many times in my travels. It is sad and a little frightening. What will happen to all of these people? There were a string of motels along the main street; most of them only had a few cars in their lots. My room for the night smelled of Pinesol but was very nice. It was also the least expensive of all the motels I stayed at just $33. That just shows how bad things have become in the town.

It rained most of the evening and since I have been wet enough this trip, I decided to just watch TV.

Goodnight

Mike

Day 40
July 23, 2006
Mackinac City

I am sitting in a little park looking at the Mackinaw Bridge. The bridge connects the upper part of Michigan to the lower part. It was the largest suspension bridge in the world when it was built. It is pretty impressive. I have gone under the bridge on the Mac Race many times, but only crossed over it on a couple of occasions. Today is the first time on a motorcycle. In a few hours, I will leave for the Island to wait for Francie and the Fineline crew to arrive. It seems strange not to be in the race.

Today’s ride was only 60 miles. I have come to the end of the journey that started 40 days ago. As I experienced earlier, I am having conflicting emotions. I am feeling a sense of loss now that the adventure is over, but I am also relieved that I made it home safely.

This ride called on all of my 15 years of experience in long distance riding to make sure I returned safely. There were many challenging experiences that I didn’t write about because I didn’t want to worry anyone. This was not a ride for someone with limited experience. The ability to handle the bike was only part of what was necessary to finish the trip. I found that stamina was equally important. The weather, the wild life, and the road conditions made the trip a challenge; it became draining constantly watching for danger. I want to thank all of you. You will never know how you kept me company while I spent long hours in the saddle describing the scenery and experience to you in my head. It was you who I talked to when things on the road got dicey.

I am not sure that I could do it again. Having said that, the ride was everything I hoped it would be. It is an experience that I will stay with me my entire life. It has changed me. I found the ability to be less shy when around strangers. I found inner strength when I needed it the most. I found a quiet confidence that has made me a better rider and a better person.

As I reflect, I see the people along the way who have included me in their lives, and I have taken a bit of them with me. I continue to be amazed at how so many people reached out to help me or share their stories with me. It is what made the trip. As always I am amazed at the beauty and vastness of the two countries. I must admit that I have a fondness for Canada; not only is the county beautiful but so are the people.

In Thunder Bay at the bike shop, I was constantly referred to as “The Traveler.” Well the traveler is home. It is time to remove the leather and head scarf and become Mike Sheridan again. I could not end the biker part of my life with a better experience. My next journey will be as a sailor.

Mike

Afterward

In November of 2006, after looking at many sailboats, we bought our first sailboat in Miami, FL. It was a 1985 Gulfstar 45. She became our beloved Anam Cara. The plan was to bring her to Chicago and work during the school years to prepare her to become our permanent home when we retired in 4 years and then live aboard it. We stopped racing and tried to learn to be cruisers during the summers. It was hard to take the racer out of us.

The motorcycle trips became just a few weekend rides. I could feel myself truly shifting from biker to sailor. Friends that followed my travels refused to believe that I could possibly give up the motorcycle. I knew it would not be a difficult. How would I ever top the trip to Alaska? In 2007 I didn’t write a motorcycle journal, but there is an Anam Cara journal describing our adventure bringing the boat from Sarasota, FL to Green Turtle, Kentucky up the river system. I can assure you that my wife and I found a rival to my Alaska trip. We would encounter danger, adventure, comradery, beauty and wonderful people. There were times that our ability to persevere and endure were truly challenged. We called it, “Our Trip from Hell.”

Motorcycle Journal 2006Alaska

Motorcycle Journal 2006
Alaska