30 - Fairbanks - Hospitality & the ATV Adventure

While walking back to my tent in Talkeetna, the rain fell and I decided that I wasn't quite ready for bed. The Teepee bar sat 150 yards off the main road, so I strolled down to see who was there. Shortly after the bartender handed me a drink, someone rang the bell. Virtually every bar in Alaska has a bell. To ring it, signals one's commitment to purchase a round for the house. There were about a dozen of us in the bar, and the bartender busily began pulling beer and pouring drinks. Wow! While in Chicken, I hadn't been fortunate enough to have anyone ring the bell. It was pretty neat.

While walking back to my tent twenty minutes later, I noticed the puddles. In the faint moonlight, it occurred to me that this scene could finally capture the image of potholes that I'd been trying to convey since riding the Top of the World Highway. Some scenes are difficult to represent in a photograph. Here is my best attempt at recreating the feeling of seeing a pothole-riddled road while riding on two wheels. ...two very old wheels.

In the morning, after I'd taken the picture of the potholes, I called a good friend of Bill and Ruth, the people who hosted me while I was in Jackson, Wyoming. Bill's friend, also named Bill, lives in Fairbanks. As soon as he answered the phone and offered for me to stay with him, I knew I was in for a real treat. His wife and son were out of town, so he agreed to take me out to see Fairbanks. I hopped on my bike and rode North.

Eager to do whatever awaited up North, I hopped on my bike and began the trek from Talkeetna, through Denali, and ultimately to Fairbanks. My destination: Beaver Sports. They had a replacement tent stake that I desperately needed before boarding the ferry. My makeshift stake wouldn’t withstand 70 mph winds.

Unfortunately, finding Beaver Sports required riding in the rain and trying to recall the mental snapshot of my Fairbanks map.

About a week earlier, while riding across a bridge somewhere around Wasilla, my GPS flew off my bike at 80 mph. That worthless piece of electronic gear had proved grossly inferior vis-a-vi similar Garmin units. The Magellan RoadMate 2200T is a terrible gadget. The engineers totally botched that one. The product manager that took responsibility for launching the product is equally incompetent. Buy what you will, as for me, I’ll never buy another Magellan. Before it left my handlebars and bounced wildly along the roadway, the device displayed copious data. However, it rarely displaced any actionable information. Enough. I’ll leave the ranting to professionals, like Dennis Miller.

Bill met me at the Outfitters and I followed him to his home where he insisted I park my bike in the garage. Nice. After dinner and countless stories, he recommended routes for tomorrow’s ride. Also, he offered to take me the toys out after work. My choices:

1: The Jet Boat. A small-block Chevy powered boat

2: The ATV’s. A pair of winch-equipped 4-Wheelers

Clearly a 350 c.i. powered boat on the Chena River is much cooler. However, I’ve been on several boats (though never in Alaska) but haven’t ridden 4-Wheelers in any sort of real off-road setting.

Before bed, I outlined the next day. Upload pictures, play with the dog, ride a couple hundred miles to North Pole, Fox, & The Pipeline, wash my bike, do laundry, and send postcards. Finally, ride 4-Wheelers. What a day! Off to sleep in a comfortable bed in a dark room! (Dark in hard to come by in Alaska in a tent.)

Bill gave me the scoop on where to ride and what to see. In the morning, I rode about 200 miles or so and went to North Pole and Fox Alaska. I saw the pipeline and a gold mine.

The bear on the left is one that Bill & Bill got on a trip in the 60's. It's still on record as one of the largest Grizzlies ever recorded. Both men are avid outdoorsmen and have seemingly endless stories of trips into very rugged parts of the continent. Evidently, the bear on the right, the one in the room where I stayed, is actually "small." Hmmmm?

Both guys had told me not to worry about bears, easy to say when you have them hanging on your wall. However, I really don't want to end up on the news as the guy from the East Coast that got snacked on by a Grizzly. Ever noticed that the rare instances of Shark Attacks on East Coast beaches usually happen to people from the Mid-West? I don't know anything about Bear attacks in the West, but I'd bet that most happen to unsuspecting East Coasters. No Thanks!

The pipeline is huge! Check out the tourbus in the background.

Why a picture of a squirrel? Check him out, he's winking at the camera.

That's me standing next to a tree with a large Moose-Rub. The 44 Magnum on my hip is there just in case I meet an aggressive bear while Bill isn't around. Having two steady hands and the proper equipment makes bear country quite enjoyable. Having two trembling hands and a motorcycle loaded with food and no windows to roll up or doors to lock makes bear country a bit intimidating.

Riding 4-Wheelers was even cooler than I imagined. Bill had no problem taking me on really tough trails, even though I’d not ridden ATV’s much. We turned up a creek bed, it is actually more of a ditch. That’s him riding over a huge rock. I got over it too, and then we went a couple hundred yards before turning to heavily wooded mountains. After a couple of hours of riding, I asked for a shameless photo op and he obliged. We backtracked to the water-crossing for a few splash-filled photos. Afterwards, I was a soaked mess, but excited about having had such a great time.

 

 

 

The next morning, I slept late and then sharpened my axe and shined my boots. With clean clothes and clean gear, I happily hit the road around noon and rode south toward the Great Mountain. Sometime between Fox, AK and the Fireweed Roadhouse, my friend from Talkeetna returned my call and offered to put me on a plane if I returned to Talkeeta. Nice!

I stopped it at the Fireweed Roadhouse and talked with Robin for awhile. She had been there five years, but had bought out the previous owner only a year ago. I got the inside view of what it's like to own a roadhouse in Alaska. It's an around-the-clock job with no time off. Ever.

 

Next:  31  -  Denali