June 16th, 2007

Anticipation

This is the second to the last days ride before we arrive in Prudhoe Bay. There is a little tension, but mostly just a desire to get to Coldfoot so we can make the last ride in. We left Fairbanks at 8 am on a ride that is supposed to be 260 miles up the Haul Road, now called the Dalton Hwy. The first 75 miles is nice twisty paved road that we covered pretty quickly. They patch their paved roads up here very strangly. The small holes they fill with asphalt. The bigger holes they put gravel in them and slowly the road returns, bit by bit to a dirt road. It's not too bad until you have your bike all heeled over ala Rossi and there in the middle of the turn is one of these gravel patches. Talk about a Klong. That will make you think twice about going into a corner hot.

We go through a section where they must be hosting a bug convention. We go through swarms of them and their detritus covers our windshields and face shields like mud. If the face shield is open even a crack, it's almost like rain.

The dirt is not too bad, reasonably fast 50-60-70 and the pot holes are outlined by standing water from a recent rain. Very little traffic, only about 4 trucks all day and the drivers are very nice to us. When I say trucks, I mean some big ones carrying some big loads usually quite fast. Their dust is substantial and you can only pass them if you come to a place where they have watered the road. They will sometimes slow a little to let you by but you can't count on it.

The deep lush forest gradually thins the further north you go. The spruce trees gradually get smaller and smaller in diameter and height until they are barely 3-4 inches with a few puny branches. we learn later that some of them are over a hundred years old. They are too small to be harvested and they sit on very wet soil that you can't even walk on. The visitor center folks in Coldfoot said that the permafrost thaws to a few inches depth and stays this way till next fall. Travel on it is forbidden.

They have had a few big forest fires in the last few years in this area and the forest looks very sick in spots trying to recover from the burns. They also have bark beetle problems that is adding to the unhealthy look in some areas.

All the standing water is so dark it looks like pools of oil. If you slow down (and yes we really did form time to time) you see that the water is crystal clear and the dark soil is causing the water to look dark. The rivers are mostly a muddy gray from what they call glacier silt. When the glaciers move, the grind up the soil and rock and it gets washed into the rivers.

During the trip up to Coldfoot we crossed over the Arctic Circle and of course had to stop and taks some pictures

We stopped beside the Yukon River to gas up. What an impressive river. There will be a picture attached but it doesn't do it justice. We then went up the road a few miles to the Hot Spot Cafe. The only place for miles to eat. Note the wording at the bottom of the sign, umm good! As the picture shows, out door dining at its best. They had a very large sign out back against the outhouse warning that you should listen for bears as you approach the outhouse and make you presence known. The outhouse is an old meat cooler that has been cemented to the ground and you have to punch the round latch to get in or out. There is all kinda of symbolism here. Does the bear see you as you enter the outhouse as meat on the hook. Has he figured the latch out and does he use this instead of the woods which answers an age old question about where a bear poops. Also what if a bear is near the out house when you go out there what do you do, ask him if he wants to go first?

We arrive at Coldfoot in the early afternoon. It's really a a twenty four hour truck stop. The rooms are old trailers that were brought in when the road was built and are, shall we say rustic.

Doesn't stop them from charging $150.00 per night. We didn't care, we were really beat. The combination of a lot of days on the road, the first dirt of the trip, some really bad pavement and just the anticipation of nearly getting there drained us all, and the rooms didn't matter. The place Coldfoot was named for some early prospectors that showed up here one winter took one look and turned around and went back south. That's their story. Supposedly it's been colder their than anywhere else in north America 82 below zero. They have an outstanding visitor's center which is amazing considering that there are probably only 15 residents.

We talk to several motorcyclists that have come through from Prudhoe Bay and they told us that the gravel is really bad as is the mud, and from their bikes it looks it. Carol decides to stay in Coldfoot rather than risk the trip. Today is their 39th wedding anniversary and they both wouldn't be anywhere else.

There is some tension about tomorrow. We've come all this way and don't want to either not make it or cause the group delay. Our first worry is putting our bike out of commission and the next is getting hurt. Seriously, we'll heal, there aren't any repair shops for hundreds of miles. The worry over the unknown is more substantial than we realize.

Some of us are more affected than others. John's room is between Frank's and mine and he snores so loud all night long we are ready to string him up by morning. He says he snores so loud he can make the toilet flush on its own.