The
ALCAN
(Alaska-Canada Highway)
has changed. When I last traveled it, (1970) it was 1350 miles of dirt road, with small paved portions of it through cities and some of the towns.
I got 13 rock chips in the windshield,
7 flat tires, lost one mounted spare tire, popped all the spotwelds on the lest side of the truck bed, so badly my tailgate would no longer open or close and it spread the joints of my camper shell and the door on my camper shell to no longer latch.
Me, Lizard and Smilem Bob..
In Billings Montana, I ran into these two outlaws, only to find out that they were both former cops. Lizard (Scott Gillard) is from Texas. He served as a Deputy for Hildalgo, County, Texas. He also is a former Firefighter for McAllen, Texas, and an EMT for Catalina. That not all, he is a US Marine--and that's a lot!! (Once a Marine--always a Marine) Lizard served in Okinawa, Japan, the Philippines, South Korea and in Desert Storm. Pretty impressive!!
Smilen Bob (Bob Nesson) served in Marshfield, Massachusetts as a police officer. When Smilen Bob saw my Blue Knights patch on my riders jacket, (the largest Law Enforcement Motorcycle Club in the world and only open to current LE and former LE) he smiled and said, "Are you a Blue Knight? I said, yeah, to which he smiled again and replied, "Massachusetts 1st." I smiled back and said, "Arizona 6th." So there I was, among good company as I headed into Canada from Montana. We called ourselves, "The Posse!!" ...What???
Today, for the most part, the ALCAN is all paved with the exception of the frost-heave damage that occurs every year during the winter. Some areas are worse than others, for instance the 100+ miles from Destruction Bay to 12 miles past the Alaskan boarder, has so much frost-heave damage, so much road damage, that some of the bikes did endo's, sliding on their side until they came to a stop. There are also a hundred patches or so that are anywhere from 50 yards long to 3 or 4 miles long, that are under reconstruction and are graveled. So heavily graveled, that your bike feels like you are riding a dolphin. It squishes and squirms around underneath you while you ride. The trick? Stay loose, don't panic, don't freeze up, just let the bike squirm around underneath you. Don't apply any brake, don't add any throttle. Just relax and ride the fish to the other end.
Wowzers!! Does Canada have some bugs or what!! ..But I'm loven it!!
Our first night in Canada, we are behind a gas station and convenience store with a drive up window, just north of Calgary about 30 miles.
We rode hard from Calgary and made Dawson Creek by 9:30 that night. Yup, it's 9:30 at night in this photo.
Canada is a beautiful place. I had forgotten just how beautiful it actually is. And the people there were fabulously friendly to me.
What a welcome surprise, as when I passed through there on my way to Alaska in 1970, for some reason, I ran into some people that didn't like Americans and were quick to show it. That was during the Viet Nam war and I think that had something to do with it. Alot of people viewed us as a bunch of Baby-Killers. That was a hard thing to deal with. I remember in one town, one mom and pop restaurant, ordering breakfast for Julie and I. When it came, the waitress slammed the plates onto the table, gave me a nasty and hateful look and then waited as if to see my response. That not being enough, the food was so burnt, neither of us could eat any of it. My first gut reaction was to throw a fit and not pay for it. But my second thought was to not touch it, pay for it, leave a tip, say thank you and walk out. Choosing the second option, I said, "Come on Honey" and did just that. To this day, I honestly believe it did more to hand the insult back to them than any other thing we could have done. That would not be the last time we felt that resentment in Canada during 1970.
But on this journey that was not the case at all. In fact, throughout this trip, the Canadians were very friendly, gracious and kind toward me. Everywhere I went, I was treated so very well. And I was looking pretty bad by this time. Like straight up W-T. (White trash)
In Watson Lake, the first town you come to in the Yukon, I met up with Eve and a bunch of Hoka Hey riders that were riding together. This was my second restaurant meal. I had been living on Beef-Jerky, Trail-Mix and water while on the road. I'm lucky, I don't get very hungry when I ride and it just works better for me if I don't eat very much. Especially on long rides.
...Ahhhhh!!! After a good meal, there aint nothing like a good nights sleep.
After dinner, some went this way, some went that way, some kept pushing on. Me? I looked for a good place to bed down, after all, it was already 10:30 at night. And here it was and it was perfect. It was a concrete slab, alongside the Watson Lake Post Office. Seemed good to me, so why not. It had an over hang and all.
The awning turned out to be a real blessing as it was raining when I woke up. In fact it was not only raining, it was cold and I was freezing. That morning in Watson Lake was the very first and only time on this whole trip that I grumbled and complained and asked myself what in the heck was I thinking when I decided to come on this trip. But that bad attitude only lasted about 10 minutes and I did what any red blooded American hero would do. I stopped my sniveling, my pitty party and put on 2 pair of long johns, 2 t-shirts over that, my Levi long sleeve shirt, my fleece vest, my heavy winter leather jacket with it's liner, my chaps and my rain suit over all that. And then when I stopped shivering, I fired up my bike and rode across the street for breakfast.
On this trip, on just the ALCAN, either on the road or along side the road, I saw 19 Moose, 1 Elk, a dozen or more Caribou, lots of Deer, a dozen or more Mountain Goats, Mountain Sheep, 2 foxes, 1 cougar, and 7 Black Bears and 50 or more wild Buffalo's. You had to be careful riding as there were so many critters on the road or along the shoulder, you could easily be wearing one on your face mask. ...a big ouch!!!
Just south of Summit Lake on the ALCAN, I stopped into this little store about the size of my living room. It had one pump and one very nice local lady who worked there. Riding a Sporty with a 3 gallon tank, I topped off. I also bought 2 Sesame seed bars. The gas was just a little over 2 litres. I handed her a $20.00 and she gave me some coins in return. I asked, "What's this?" She started explaining the coins to me and it was then I realized that was my change for the twenty. I went back out side and looked at the pump and it was $7.49 a litre. That is about $25.00 a gallon. WOWZERS--WOWZERS--WOWZERS!!!
Gas is expensive up on the ALCAN. Don't go up there thinking you will pay what you are used to paying in the states. Several of my gas receipts were $30.00 to $35.00 dollars a fill-up. And remember, I have a Sporty with just a 3 gallon tank.
"Welcome To Yukon" the sign said. It's was like stepping back in time with all the modern conveniences. The little mom and pop--hole in the wall stores, the animals, the openness and the often primitive conditions. And what better way to experience it than on a bike.
The beautiful little town of Teslin. You are riding and riding and suddenly you come over this little hill and there at the bottom is this little two store town (of what I saw anyway) along the highway.
Go figure. Gas lines in Teslin. And who would guess that with gas at over $3.50 a litre, people would be standing in line to buy it. Notice my stuff is bagged? Through Canada and into Alaska, it seemed it was either raining, fixing to rain or looking like rain. ...Jeepers!!!
I loved Canada, but there is just something about being in the US that brings with it a feeling hard to explain. And there is something even more about being in the part of the US that is called "Alaska."
They say that Alaska is the land of the mid-night sun! Well, that ain't no bull. I just pulled into Tok, Alaska, about a 100 miles away from Fairbanks and it is almost 11:30 at night.
The Portage Glacier. And yes, I took this photo, it is not a post card. The Portage Glacier is about 50 miles past Anchorage, on way to the Kenai Peninsula. From Portage on, I would see several more glaciers.
The ride from Anchorage to Homer is about 215 miles. Maybe a little more. But when I started getting close to Anchorage, I started noticing people were noticing me more than usual. Just before Wasilla, the victory lap began. Wasilla is about 30 or 40 miles north of Anchorage and just before I pulled into town, I stopped for fuel. It was at that stop that a rider at the convenience market asked me stop into the Wasilla Harley-Davidson dealer, saying they would like to see me.
Shortly after that I had a rider and his wife pull alongside me and after a little small talk, he asked if I was going to stop or keep on riding. I told him I was a Hoka Hey rider, in route to Homer. He said, "I know, I was just wondering if you were going to pull over and get something to eat." I suppose he wanted me to join him and his wife for a late lunch.
In Anchorage I had a group of riders fall in behind me and ride behind me for a while. On the Seward Highway, still in town, I had a trucker blast his horn and wave and give me the thumbs up. Once on the Seward Highway, I had another rider pull alongside me, beep his horn and give me the thumps up. At the gas station at the Portage Glacier turnoff, I was pumping fuel and a young lady in the next island smiled and said, "You're one of them." I smiled back and said, "Yeah, ...I'm one of them." In every stop down the Seward highway, every little mom and pop store, I had someone come up to me and start a conversation with me about the Hoka Hey ride and ask me how I was doing and what I thought and what were my best sights and what happened along the way. From Wasilla on, and especially from Anchorage, it was literally like riding down Victory Lane. The people knew we were coming, they knew we were there, and they were part of the excitement, part of the great Hoka Hey experience.
And then there it was. Some 8500+ miles later--the Finish line. I had been riding to this end, and now that it was here, right in front of me, I pulled into the finish line with mixed feelings. I had completed not only the Hoka Hey ride, but my childhood dream from age 14. I had ridden my Sportster to Alaska.
...Live the Dream
Samuel
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