Sunday Aug 28. Galbraith Lakes to Prudhoe to Coldfoot. 370 miles. -- Monday Aug 29. Coldfoot to Fairbanks. 270 miles.
The sun breaks the horizon on another beautiful day. We'll cover the last 130 miles to Prudhoe this morning - fuel up, take pics, and return south as far as we can tonight.
Just after ^^ this ^^ shot we hit major road construction. The last 30 miles of roadbed into Deadhorse is being raised 8ft (!) to prevent flooding. It was some of the deepest, loosest, tire sucking gravel I've ever ridden and you are following a pilot car the whole way. I'd read about it on ride reports though so it was not unexpected. There were a couple of "moments" on the Husky - might have put my feet down a couple times - but not a big deal. It would have been nasty on a heavy adventure bike though. My guess is the construction folks have helped pick up a few bikes during 2016. This 30 miles was the only place on our 12k miles that would have been impossible for me to do on the Goldwing. When done, I'm sure it will be a nice stretch of road and a non-issue for 2017.
Deadhorse/Prudhoe could almost be a lunar outpost. Everyone who works there does some combination of X weeks on/X weeks off and their company flies them home. It's actually a bigger, more confusing complex than I was expecting.
The first building entering town is Deadhorse Camp. It's here you can sign up for the $75 van ride to the Arctic Ocean (we passed on this). Because of security concerns since 9/11, you can no longer drive thru the oil fields on your own to reach the ocean.
Never seen tracked trailers before...
After driving around a bit we finally found the gas station. It's a 1000 mile round trip to get fuel here from Fairbanks so it's not cheap.
225 miles since Coldfoot. (And what's with these overcast skies - it's supposed to be sunny and mid-50s...)
At some point coming north, the Dalton had claimed the truck's 11yr old exhaust system. It was still hanging, but I was concerned it might drop down, hit the road, and jam up into the undercarriage ... and take out a brake line or something in the process. I asked a young lady walking past the gas pumps where I might find a repair facility. She suggested I stick my head in the door of the Colville trucking repair shop next door and talk to them. At first the boss man said no-go, but after a bit more talking and explaining I just wanted the exhaust removed the boss said "Joe, pull that thing in the big shop and help them out". The two mechanics were brothers from Wasilla and nice as could be, refusing to take anything for doing it. We eventually forced a $20 on them for a six-pack or pizza, they informed us there was absolutely no drinking allowed and that everything was free up there - food, lodging, and flights home.
Everything except 4' of straight pipe off the turbo removed.
With the Cummins rumblin and my mind at ease, the last stop before turning south is the Prudhoe Bay General Store for the picture and some souvenirs.
Since it was 2pm we decided to make some lunch before heading out. While eating, it started to rain. The temp is 45F. Keeping the faceshield clear of rain and fog added to the fun of 30 miles of soft gravel getting out of town (hey there cupcake, no one said it was all going to be fun). Thankfully, the Husky has a strong charging system that can run heated grips and a heated jacket.
So I thought staying warm and dry would be the biggest challenge the rest of the day. I was wrong.
Two hours and 80 miles south of Prudhoe, I pulled over for a snack break and discovered both rear tires on the truck are going flat. That's not good. Within 5 minutes one tire is completely flat - it's still raining - we have one spare - we're parked on a very soft berm - it's going to be tough to jack the truck - the occasional semi passes and sprays us with muddy water. That said, I don't really feel sick until I flip the switch for the truck's on-board air system and nothing happens. ******k, ******k, ******k - now I feel sick. Standing there in the rain, 250 miles north of the Arctic Circle, you realize the nightmare has come true. But, all you can do is set about working the problem until you're out of options. Cutting to the chase - I fixed the air system, plugged the hole in one tire, filled the second tire (couldn't find a hole), and never need the jack. Seeing those tires standing tall felt like hitting the lottery. With 150 miles remaining to Coldfoot, I told Dad to stop every 10 miles and let me check things. As unlucky as we'd been, I knew we were very lucky to have caught it before he was driving on flats and I wanted to keep it that way. We had to refill one tire twice, but at 11pm we pulled into Coldfoot. This may not have been the successful return of Apollo 13, but it's been a while since I felt more relieved. Their tire guy starts at 8am so tonight we camp here.
It stopped raining as we got to the Brooks Range and I stopped to get a pic just before Atigun Pass.
.
The sun breaks the horizon on another beautiful day. We'll cover the last 130 miles to Prudhoe this morning - fuel up, take pics, and return south as far as we can tonight.
Just after ^^ this ^^ shot we hit major road construction. The last 30 miles of roadbed into Deadhorse is being raised 8ft (!) to prevent flooding. It was some of the deepest, loosest, tire sucking gravel I've ever ridden and you are following a pilot car the whole way. I'd read about it on ride reports though so it was not unexpected. There were a couple of "moments" on the Husky - might have put my feet down a couple times - but not a big deal. It would have been nasty on a heavy adventure bike though. My guess is the construction folks have helped pick up a few bikes during 2016. This 30 miles was the only place on our 12k miles that would have been impossible for me to do on the Goldwing. When done, I'm sure it will be a nice stretch of road and a non-issue for 2017.
Deadhorse/Prudhoe could almost be a lunar outpost. Everyone who works there does some combination of X weeks on/X weeks off and their company flies them home. It's actually a bigger, more confusing complex than I was expecting.
The first building entering town is Deadhorse Camp. It's here you can sign up for the $75 van ride to the Arctic Ocean (we passed on this). Because of security concerns since 9/11, you can no longer drive thru the oil fields on your own to reach the ocean.
Never seen tracked trailers before...
After driving around a bit we finally found the gas station. It's a 1000 mile round trip to get fuel here from Fairbanks so it's not cheap.
225 miles since Coldfoot. (And what's with these overcast skies - it's supposed to be sunny and mid-50s...)
At some point coming north, the Dalton had claimed the truck's 11yr old exhaust system. It was still hanging, but I was concerned it might drop down, hit the road, and jam up into the undercarriage ... and take out a brake line or something in the process. I asked a young lady walking past the gas pumps where I might find a repair facility. She suggested I stick my head in the door of the Colville trucking repair shop next door and talk to them. At first the boss man said no-go, but after a bit more talking and explaining I just wanted the exhaust removed the boss said "Joe, pull that thing in the big shop and help them out". The two mechanics were brothers from Wasilla and nice as could be, refusing to take anything for doing it. We eventually forced a $20 on them for a six-pack or pizza, they informed us there was absolutely no drinking allowed and that everything was free up there - food, lodging, and flights home.
Everything except 4' of straight pipe off the turbo removed.
With the Cummins rumblin and my mind at ease, the last stop before turning south is the Prudhoe Bay General Store for the picture and some souvenirs.
Since it was 2pm we decided to make some lunch before heading out. While eating, it started to rain. The temp is 45F. Keeping the faceshield clear of rain and fog added to the fun of 30 miles of soft gravel getting out of town (hey there cupcake, no one said it was all going to be fun). Thankfully, the Husky has a strong charging system that can run heated grips and a heated jacket.
So I thought staying warm and dry would be the biggest challenge the rest of the day. I was wrong.
Two hours and 80 miles south of Prudhoe, I pulled over for a snack break and discovered both rear tires on the truck are going flat. That's not good. Within 5 minutes one tire is completely flat - it's still raining - we have one spare - we're parked on a very soft berm - it's going to be tough to jack the truck - the occasional semi passes and sprays us with muddy water. That said, I don't really feel sick until I flip the switch for the truck's on-board air system and nothing happens. ******k, ******k, ******k - now I feel sick. Standing there in the rain, 250 miles north of the Arctic Circle, you realize the nightmare has come true. But, all you can do is set about working the problem until you're out of options. Cutting to the chase - I fixed the air system, plugged the hole in one tire, filled the second tire (couldn't find a hole), and never need the jack. Seeing those tires standing tall felt like hitting the lottery. With 150 miles remaining to Coldfoot, I told Dad to stop every 10 miles and let me check things. As unlucky as we'd been, I knew we were very lucky to have caught it before he was driving on flats and I wanted to keep it that way. We had to refill one tire twice, but at 11pm we pulled into Coldfoot. This may not have been the successful return of Apollo 13, but it's been a while since I felt more relieved. Their tire guy starts at 8am so tonight we camp here.
It stopped raining as we got to the Brooks Range and I stopped to get a pic just before Atigun Pass.
.
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