The Alaska Slo-Mo Photo Tour.

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Great report so far.
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Keep it coming!!
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+1, Gunny; an incredible report, Papa Chuy is enjoying this so much! JSNS!
+1

 
Just down the road from the hot springs we came on this herd of bison on the left side of the road. Big boy here slowly made his way over from the right side making sure to stop and give me a good long stare-down just to make sure we knew who was boss,

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The locals welcome us to the Yukon.

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Then the government.

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More on this dude later.

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Watson Lake is home to the signpost forest and not much else, except big bugs that like to land on your face! The place is interesting, it really sucks you in with all the locations and leftover tidbits. You just know your hometown sign is just around the next corner. Every explorer has that need to go just around the next corner or over the next hill to see what might be there. This forest of signs could take way too long than we had time for and after looking for Tim’s (TwoWheelNut) sign with no luck we pressed on into the unknown of the Robert Campbell Hwy. Don had brought a little sign sign of his own. I took Don out on the Sheetiron 300 dual sport ride one year and he cracked a rib or two so he gets a sticker. The decal has nothing to do with me but rather an ill fated ride and report on ADV Rider. If you get a chance it’s worth a read. Now I am trying to give one to everyone who I ride with and crashes (or gets crashed) a sticker. A few forum members are due one and Don gets another after this ride as discussed later in this report.

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This ones for you Sacramento Mike. The only thing I brought to leave behind was your lane splitting sticker. Funny how it should be news worthy right now with CHP taking down the guidelines from their website recently. Stuck it on the first California sign I could find that had some free space.

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The amount of signs is overwhelming.

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Pioneer, one of the closest I could find to my home town.

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I was searching for shade because it was pretty warm there. Chad let me know just how warm.

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Doug, these for you my friend.

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A combo.

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It wasn't just signs.

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The original sign of the signpost forest. Just happens to be where Christy's dad is from.

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They stopped counting and only guestimate now.

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While in town we grabbed some food for dinner and found these kids catching these big black flying bugs. They were getting 50 cents a piece for them probably from a local fisherman. They would buzz in and land with a flop on you with no warning. One just happened to land on my face through the open face shield when we just pulled in. Outwardly, I calmly reached up scooped it out and tossed it away. Inwardly, I had a tiny panic attack and screamed like a little girl.

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Hwy 4 the Robert Campbell Hwy dirt road was an unexpected jewel for us. Francis Lake had been plotted as a possible camp spot but by this time the known camp stops had ended and the one closest to where we needed to sleep was our destination for the night.

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Chicken for dinner that night. More char than broiled.

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Stayed up for the sunset.

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And rose for the sunrise.

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It was still early enough in the trip that we (I) hadn't really grasped the distances up here and had left Watson Lake about 70 miles into our last fillup. I can do 250 miles and Don 300 on our tanks and my extra gallon gets us about the same distance. The Campbell Hwy is 362 miles long with no services we knew of once the commitment was made. Ross River on the northern section was our next populated destination and we didn't even know if they had gas. Our super awesome camp neighbor let us steal some of his gas so we left him a donation. He wasn't sure if it was mixed or not but at that point we probably would have poured kerosene in our tanks and hoped for the best.

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The road into Ross River was steep sweepy graded dirt. One a wet day it would have been miserable but on a day like we had it was the most elevation gain and leaning we had done in days. After touring the town we settled on gas and sandwiches at the only open establishment. Had a snack in the dirt leaning against the building and thanking our deity of choice for getting us here on the gas we had.

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The Ross River bridge is a little on the broken side and the ferry landing getting some attention. Not that we needed or wanted to cross anyway.

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Ross River Body and Fender can take care of all your collision needs.

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And Ross River Transmission can replace your transmission wherever you might need. No core required.

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Signs in the distant background are for pansies. Close is better!

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You find the strangest things when you really scan the sides of the road while riding. Spotted this buggy in the power line clearing and just had to explore. Looked like it had run not too long ago.

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If you get the itch to ride Alaska you will eventually hear about Inuvik. If going on a goal based ride it is either Dead Horse in Prudoe Bay or Inuvic that get the hard-man points and seem to be the primary destination for many adventure riders. After reading about both, factoring in time and potential for seeing wondrous things both destinations were scratched from the Slo-Mo itinerary. I wanted to get the most bang for the buck and tagging an iconic outpost in the middle of nowhere didn't really strike my fancy. But of course you can’t just ride by the Dempster without dipping a toe in now can you?

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Ok, we rode it for about 1/4 mile.
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Thats all for now, camping this weekend. But Dawson City is next with more to come.

 
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Brad, my favorite RR of all time has been Frenchy 750's epic with Dark Meat Snack and Sleeping Beauty. But hell, now I don't know. . .

What a GREAT adventure, great piccies, great commentary. Just one question: Where are all the pictures of you guys when it was freaking RAINING? I can't believe the weather luck you've apparently been having.

I know it's a PITA to do this from the road, loading all the pics, etc., but it sure makes a great story into a super great RR. Thanks.

This ones for you Sacramento Mike. The only thing I brought to leave behind was your lane splitting sticker. Funny how it should be news worthy right now with CHP taking down the guidelines from their website recently. Stuck it on the first California sign I could find that had some free space.
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Best use in the world for the sticker, Brad. Free replacement the next time I see you.

 
Thanks for sharing the road Brad. I'm just quietly following along.

Don should be here to make some noise shortly. JSNS

 
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As we rolled into Dawson City we saw the Dome Rd and since we knew we wanted to get up there anyway we just decided go ahead and hit it now. The Midnight Dome above Dawson City has history, don’t know what it is but took a picture if you want to read about it. I just tend to gravitate to high places with big views. There were some good ones and we startled a few tourists when we charged up on bikes where most people just hike to.

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Now the views were really really good from here but I looked around and noticed a fire lookout tower north of us that was higher. Yes, higher and up a dirt road, we must go. We pull up after a rompin good time screaming up this hill and notice this tower guy poking out. Tower guy was super nice and directed us to a great viewing platform as well as an awesome road north to nowhere.

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What is a hill good for? Coast racing of course.

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We secured a campsite across the river then rode the ferry back to Dawson City for dinner, drinks and of course, pie. We decided to run out to the big dredge outside of town well after hours and a few big beers.

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The big dredge is in an active mining area. Big stuff laying all over the place.

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And this critter that was acting kind of weird. Payed us no mind at all.

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I’m all about road tools, stuff you find on the road by looking a little more closely than the other guy. I toted these small vice grips around a day or two before deciding someone else needed them worse than I did.

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Canada Day is July 1st and we are here in a wild-ass town on the eve. Not really associating this celebration with camping we went about our happy way. The night of terror began for me when I hear voices and cars running up and down the camp road. I had camped close to this road in the grass assuming it would be just like any other quiet night in camp. Then the cars started coming and going faster and faster. The voices got louder and the tires began spinning rather than rolling. I had a small tree between my head and the road, that little bit of insurance is what got me through the night sleeping fitfully. In the morning we found spins and doughnuts in the parking area and drive. I guess that would have been the equivalent of riding into town shooting off your guns in the old west. Good campground, bad timing.

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Taylor or Top of the World Hwy feels remote but really isn’t. A car or bike comes by at least every hour or two. To make things interesting Don and I decided to get separated on this virtual freeway with no fallback plan. My fault, saw a dirt road and took it but didn’t realize the intercom was out of range and he didn’t hear me. It eventually petered out to a game trail, as these roads almost always do, and I came back to no Don. This is when you try to think like the other guy. I knew he stopped for a picture about a hundred yards back and I was gone about 10-15 minutes off the main road. A helmet-off break lasts a little longer than that so he must have motored on. I’ll just do the same but he is going to ride a little faster thinking he is behind me. I’ll just do my thing and eventually catch him, right? On a lonely stretch of road you second and third guess things. He is in a ditch, he thinks I’m in a ditch, the Swedish Bikini Team stopped and gave him a ride in their bus with leather cushions? No, he is just doing his thing and we’ll meet up at the Yukon-Alaskan border crossing. Not like he can take a side road, there is only one and we are both on it. What if the Bikini Team has cloth instead of leather?

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Wonder if this bird that just landed on my mirror in the middle of nowhere would eat out of my hand? All I have are Maynards. Is this weird? Brad Maynard feeding a Maynard candy to a Stealer Jay on the Top of the World Highway while his friend is who knows where in the Yukon wilderness. It feels right.

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Don did get ahead of me and got his ass chewed by the border agent. Not because I called ahead or anything and said chew this guys ass for scaring me even though it’s my fault. It was because it was raining really hard and Don didn't know they still like to play red light green light at BFE border crossings in torrential downpours.

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We met back up as both of us had reasoned would happen to continue on our merry way. Don’s border crossing adventure stealing away the uneasiness of our little mishap.

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Rip rock, drain rock, shot rock, I heard it called a few names but jagged fist size road bed is what we dealt with for the next few miles right after the border crossing. This was the stuff he heard about hundreds of miles earlier. It was like Alaska was saying FU, we hate having to man this stupid border crossing so lets make everyone miserable with the tools we have. We only saw one RV changing out a flat because of this stuff but heard stories of two or three flats per vehicle previously. Our bikes were light enough to mostly float over but speed and a feeling a lightness help get us through with no flats or chunked out tires. No pictures, too busy riding.

This is a Ptarmigen. Chicken Alaska was named for this bird because they couldn't spell Ptarmigen, so the story goes. They have gas, food and traps for tourists. We partook in all three.

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And Chickens ittybity dredge.

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Next up, Delta Junction is the end of the Alaskan Highway and getting to the Denali Highway.

 
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Glad to learn that the border crossing guards spread the love. We got the same ass chewing from a Canada side agent in BFE, red light, green light, raining with not a soul around, no matter. Back pedal the 30' to the stop limit line and wait in a downpour for the green light. This RR keeps just getting better and better. BTW, did you ever find out, was it leather or cloth?

 
Oh noooo, just googled up swedish bikini team and my co has blocked the website, recorded my IP, put me on the watch list...

It's all BRADS' Fault!

:popcorn:

 
We arrive at the end of the Alaskan Highway in Delta Junction on a rainy morning after hunkering down in a motel in Toc for the night. In Toc I had to tighten that brand new chain I left with after it began slapping the Case Saver when letting off the gas. Part of our morning ritual was to lube the chains before the days ride and other than some premature chain/sprocket wear on Dons bike near the end of the trip our drivelines had no problems whatsoever.

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Don read that the big Honda 650’s are called Big Red Pigs before our departure. From then on his mission was to connect his Big Red Pig (BRP) to all things hoggish. This pipeline pig used for cleaning the Alaskan Pipeline almost made him squeal with delight. The pipeline starts way up in Prudhoe Bay but this is where our interaction starts and would continue for a week or so.

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We had mixed weather the last few days but heard it would be clearing soon. With the Denali Hwy on the horizon we knew we wanted to get the best chance of seeing the The High One by dragging our feet a little getting there. We happened on a deserted camp spot heading south on Hwy 4 the Richardson Highway. Here we had some extra time to enjoy some great camping, blooming flowers and botanical girls from nowhere.

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These gals showed up to our little slice of heaven with a job to do, look at some specific plants smack dab in front our river and mountain vista. Of all the millions of acres in Alaska? They even had a GPS to zero in on exactly where they needed to study.

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I had been out long enough now to feel a little Clan of the Cave Bearish.

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Our perch, we spent hours here watching the weather clear on the distant Alaska Range.

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We jumped on a side road that paralleled the highway on our ride down to the Denali Hwy junction. Had to divert back to the highway after coming to a stream that was little bigger than either of us felt like tackling.

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We were getting critical with gas at the hwy intersection but a local B&B owner felt somewhat certain gas could be found 20-30 miles on the Denali. We found most businesses we very out of touch with what other businesses in the vicinity where up to in our travels. Mind your business and hope to stay in business because land based tourism seems to have seen better times in The Great White North and outback Alaska.

Tangle Lakes Inn hooked us up with some gas, great breakfast and stories from some retired bush pilots sprinkled with the appropriate bear jokes. The view from the dining room did not suck.

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Not sure what he's slinging but was told a lot gets transported this way.

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The Denali Hwy is a must-do but only on a dirt worthy bike, car you hate or rental vehicle if you expect to make any time. It also seems to be where Alaskans go to spend a little quality time and I can see why. Great views, great camping, great side roads to hunting/fishing and a few little hospitality nuggets make this an all time favorite.

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Motoquest runs their Alaska trips out of the Gracious House B&B where we stopped in at the Sluice Box bar for a couple beers and Cinnamon rolls for the next days breakfast. I’m not usually big on the whole dollar bill wallpaper thing but felt I needed to in this case since we had the place to ourselves.

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Lots of dirt side roads which is kind of unusual up to this point so we pick a swoopy one and hit the trail. If having some brush in your boot is good, having a bush in your bike is better.

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Canned stew and Fritos... good enough.

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The Denali views we had been hoping for and wowed us from the beginning.

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Not knowing just how good the view of Denali we would get or how long it would last kept us clicking away with the cameras and slowing progress. The best views came once we jumped onto Hwy 1 and started south towards Anchorage.

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Uggg! this picture quantity thing absolutely SUCKS!

 
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The Alaska Veterans Memorial was a stop I had planned from Google Earth. I got to spend a little alone time there and being Active Army for eleven years and inactive for sixteen gives you a reverence for places like this.

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I lost my hat and Don retrieved it. I bought this Rainier Mountaineering hat when I climbed Mt. Rainier in Washington State about twenty five years ago so it means a lot to me.

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We had been pretty isolated up to this point so rolling into Talkeetna on the 4th of July completely overwhelmed the senses. The parade had just finished and the throngs of people, floats, vendors and noise made me want to head back to the hills.

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I'm enough of a mechanic to know man made things break. I do not do well in boats and was also on a tight enough budget that those three factors kept me on the ground while Don took the anticipated ride of a lifetime. Flying to Denali and landing on the Root Glacier was the one big thing Don wanted to do, the weather and timing all lined up so off he went.

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The special glacier galoshes.

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I think he had a good time, feet didn't hit the floor for many hours. Ate glacier snow and got a birds eye view of places most people will never see.

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It was late enough in the day when we pulled out of town that we didn't want to travel too far before camping. We ended up in a parking lot style camping spot full of locals, lots of kids and fireworks. Oh yeah, and it was hot. Earplugs and alcohol made for a one of my best nights sleep up to that point. Don heard every pop and whistle thinking for sure his tent would burst into flames at any second.

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A little too much endorsement, need resupply stat!
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Coming up... Hatcher Pass.


 

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