Ferry Your Harley to Alaska

Round trip to Alaska on a Harley-Davidson Motorcycle

2017: (Solo) Denver CO to Baker NV to Petaluma CA to Crescent City CA to Seattle WA (2up) to Bellingham WA (ferry) to Whittier AK (2up) to Anchorage AK to Homer AK to [(fly) Brooks Falls AK (fly)] to Homer AK (2up) to Anchorage AK to Wasilla AK to Denali Park AK to Fairbanks AK (Solo) to Beaver Creek YT to Whitehorse YT to Ponoka AB to Choteau MT to Buffalo MT to Denver CO

Dash solo from Denver to the Pacific Coast Highway, and north to Seattle
Outbound in style with the Munchkin: ferry sleeping quarters
Tour Alaska together: fishing, bear watching, puppy petting, Denali
Return Fairbanks to Denver solo on the Alaska Highway, eastern route

Riding Log, first page:

Adventure Beckons!

Book Ferry to Alaska EARLY!

This can be a tricky trip to book, but if you’re riding 2-up, with someone who might appreciate a truncated trip to Alaska, I highly recommend it. The ferry isn’t necessarily difficult to book for the motorcycle itself, but if you’re angling for sleeping quarters, the reservations must be booked many, many, many months in advance. That’s why it’s better, if you’re planning a round-trip journey with your Harley-Davidson motorcycle, to head north from Bellingham WA, not south from Whittier AK. That way you can travel the long ALCAN leg free and easy without worrying about missing the ferry. Also, if you fish and like watching bears eat fish, the fixed-times of the ferry arrival near these destinations will allow you to coordinate bookings for Brooks Falls bear-watching, Homer charters, and Russian River reservations in advance. If you have questions about any of this, please feel free to ask: Contact Author.

2016 Road Glide Ultra FLTRU (Cosmic Blue Pearl)

Twin Cooled Twin Cam 103™ engine (1688 cc equivalent)
Most wind-cheating fairing ever devised
Harley-Davidson Project RUSHMORE touring features
Tour-Pak® luggage carrier and saddlebags that open with one hand
Project RUSHMORE infotainment system
Comfortable ride for your passenger
Tank: six gallons

The links are underlined and color coded as explained on the Index page (Internal Links, External Links, Image Search, Wiki Page, YouTube). The “Day” headings like “Day 1 (Denver CO to Baker NV)” underlined in blue show the map routes.

Please download the Harley_Alaska Highway_Riding_Log 2019 spreadsheet PDF, which is based on information actually logged during the trip. The fishing charters and sightseeing stuff was really expensive, and traveling two-up with a teen had a remarkable impact on cost and travel time. The spreadsheet shows mileage, travel time, and hotel information by day. The details can be summarized as follows:

Description	Start	End	Total
Cost USD			$15,400
Date / days	7 Ju7 2019	4 Aug 2019	29
Odo / miles	20,305	26,679	6,374

The following are extracts from the Log. The days refer to those recorded in the Harley_ALCAN_Riding_Log 2019. I haven’t included log material for days not riding, but maybe I should have. It’s a lot of info about fishing and sightseeing. The cost includes expensive fishing, bear watching, ferry rides, and for those nights when I had a little tyke, the nicest hotels we could find. The rides were purposely kept short when we were riding two-up.

Day 1 (Denver CO to Baker NV)

Let’s begin with a dash of spontaneity–a dash to the Pacific Coast Highway
Bye N; Bye M (“See you soon Papa!”); bye K; bye Hanna
One cannot ride through Grand Junction without thinking of Clint in High Plains Drifter
2 miles until UT. Who could resist stopping at “The Trail Through Time” (no services). Rabbit Valley has been the site of many dinosaur discoveries.
Sunset in Salina UT. Hanna asks, “Are the girls salty?”
Sign reads: Sulphur UT; Pop 0
Three things I like about UT: adorable bee hives on highway signs; Mormons chose the real estate (makes me giggle); Road Runner is from UT. Beautiful vistas, but a helluva place to live.
Deathwish III: chose to proceed to Hwy 80 on State Road 50. Soon I was riding in a tunnel the size of my headlight. UT doesn’t believe in imminent domain. Most land is public, but the highways detour around the few private parcels which exist. Interstate 70 traverses the entire east and central US, but ends in UT. Highway 50 jukes and jives around each private land holding. Luckily most land is public and it shoots straight as an arrow, but in my tunnel, the sudden turns surprise.
I was too sleepy for this ride tonight. The curves came as surprises, the oncoming lights affect me more than when I was younger (eyes slow to readjust). Broke hard for a hare. Somewhere in the night, UT became NV.

Day 2 (Baker NV to Petaluma CA)

Hwy 50 through NV is great! Amazing vistas. Empty highway. Straight as an arrow across valley floors then twisting turning through canyons. Speed limit 70, but who is watching?
NV Eli to Fallon: great place to hide out. Bring lotsa ammo, water, and if you need to plant anything, a shovel.
Middlebury Station NV: armpit of an armpit. In UT and NV, always worried about distance to the next gas station, so stopped and added 2 gal lo-octane. Bar, restaurant, RV park (sun beating down on the dusty roads). Wow, a retirement community. This is where nice guys from CA go to retire.
Fallon NV: just 60 miles to Reno, then CA! Immediate upgrade of everything–getting spiffy for CA.
Dixie Valley, B-17 Naval Range: a fighter jet dove low and glided under the radar over the salt flats
Donner Summit CA: Lake Tahoe peaks have more snow than Vail peaks
Why are the CA highways always so intense? No EZ riding on CA Interstate 80. It’s a race and I’m the baby rat on two wheels.
Highway 37: getting late. Crossed the Napa River on a spectacular bridge. Traversed San Pablo National Wildlife Refuge at sunset. 101 in the dark to Petaluma.

Day 3 (Petaluma CA to Fort Bragg CA)

Very cute Metro Hotel; coffee at 9 am
Plan: I have 3 days to ride just 15 hours, in time to meet M’s flight at Tacoma International Airport in Seattle
Hop over to Hwy 1 via 116 to take a peek at the Pacific
Rode Pacific Coast Highway through the heart of the northern California coastline. Such a beautiful ride.
Began with Hwy 116 through Valley Ford, western Sonoma County. Rolling hills of farmland and vineyards, just 75 miles north of San Francisco. Temp drops, terrain changes and descends. As I round a bend, the Pacific Ocean drops the towel at Jenner CA.
Jenner CA is where M and I jumped from Hwy1 to 101 on our way to San Francisco two years ago (July 2017). I recognize the bay where I fell trying to run from a wave. I soaked my jeans (which dried on the ride) and shoes (which did not dry). I passed the Ocean Coast Lodge where M and I met the Buckeyes with a winery. It made for very squishy walking in San Fran that first day with M.
Rode mostly in 3rd gear: totally amazing; lugs low enough for the hairpins and powers uphill to 40 mph, allowing me to stand on the highway pegs the entire way.

Day 4 (Fort Bragg CA to Crescent City CA)

Riding like a maniac across UT and NV bought me time to lalligag up the Pacific Coast Highway. It’s such a beautiful drive from Jenner CA, but now my deadline looms. M arrives on a plane at the Seattle Tacoma airport Friday AM and I have to be there to meet her. Time to dash north!
To wave or not to wave, that is the question. When I skip it and the other motorcycle rider waves to me at the last second, I feel guilty. I spent not enough time in NYC—the okie dokie Hoosier still seeps out. The traditional wave is slipping the left hand below the handlebars and catching as little wind resistance as possible. I’ve been experimenting with an excessively exuberant Heil Hitler wave instead. Nobody has reciprocated in kind. I’ve earned a few standard waves in reply, but a remarkable number of no responses which could mean: a) I’m busy shifting; b) I’m no Okie Dokie; or c) get with the program you idiot–wave like a normal HD rider.
I am generally friendly with the HD crowd, although sometimes I do feel like somewhat of an outsider with them. It could be the way I dress, or that my bike is candy-ass blue instead of black. The one subset of the HD crowd that seems to like me is the trailer pullers. Every time I see one I get the urge to say, open that and let’s see what you’re risking your life to haul around the country. Instead I say, “Wow, I really like your trailer. I’ve been thinking of getting one.” This unfailingly leads to the same result, as they start blessing me with a list of crap they are hauling: always a cooler; often lounge chairs; camping equipment, even firewood, and so on. I love it. It’s especially wonderful for the ALCAN, given the frost heaves and what not (it’s in the story!!).
My favorite class of motorcycle adventurist is the CASSIB: “Crazy Ass ShoeStringer on an Inappropriate Bike.” Typically young Okie Dokie straps backpack and campy gear all over a beat up 250cc Yamaha dirt bike and heads out on the interstate. If I hadn’t wasted my gap year studying for the CPA exam, this could have been me. I’ve read some blogs where riders advise people to do this on the ALCAN. “Don’t take a motorcycle on the ALCAN you wouldn’t be willing to lose.” Wow. Wow. It’s in the book. The last place I want to be broke down is on the Alaska Highway. Bring the most dependable bike you can afford. Put new tires on it. Don’t feed the bears.
Golden bears at the Klamath River. Poor people living in containers. At the gas station / convenience store I hear, “Roy, where is that dollar you owe me?” Roy replies, “What dollar?” For these Klamath kids, growing up poor is like being stuck on flypaper.
From Pacific Coast to Leggett is one of the most beautiful bike rides anywhere, twisting up from the Pacific Coast through giant redwoods.
The redwoods have up to one foot of bark and can grow up to 400 feet tall. Their bark allows them to wick fog up the entire length of the tree. Other trees can’t grow as tall, because they have to wick water up from the roots. The redwoods grow in foggy areas, but they don’t like salty sea spray. The oldest trees are five times older than the USA, so the impact of early logging is still apparent today.
I’m in a hurry, so the drive to Leggett is not as leisurely as I would have hoped. Had to drive right by Almost Heaven, Happy Camp, Big Foot World, Fire Jump Base Camp Museum, Drive Thru Tree, One Log House, and finally the G-Spot Cafe, which really got me thinking.
Just before Confusion Hill I was nearly run off the road by a grinning, waving hayseed driving an RV
Why has Grandfather Tree been turned into a marijuana dispensary?
Heading for Coos Bay OR, but the best I can do is Crescent City OR

Day 5 (Crescent City OR to Seattle WA)

My deadline looms! I have a reservation for the Edgewater Hotel, Seattle WA and must meet M tomorrow. Time to abandon the coast and become a commuter. I join the rat race on Interstate 5, via Hwy 199.
So sad to have missed Avenue of the Giants. I needed two extra days.
What a beautiful ride in south Oregon, northbound Hwy 199 from the coast to Hwy 5. Next time I would like to ride to Portland and then south on Interstate 5 to west on 199 to PCH, all the way down to Mexico.
I had forgotten about the crazy-ass Oregon gas pumping regulations. An attendant must pump the gas. For motorcycles, an attendant must observe rider pumping his own gas.
While pumping, I blessed Doug Chevron with a story, just to pass the time. The first vending machine in Egypt appeared in the late 1980s at the Cairo International Airport. It sold chips and candy. It was far too valuable to allow the general public to use it, so it was manned by two vending machine operating professionals and guarded 24/7 by an armed guard. Doug Chevron didn’t seem to make the connection.
Just banging it up Interstate 5. This is not sightseeing. It sucks being late. I certainly had a lot of practice as a kid. I don’t remember a Sunday where the entire family wasn’t sitting in the car, parked in the driveway, waiting for my father Leonard to appear. It wasn’t unusual for us to arrive 90 minutes late to a two-hour church service. That was embarrassing but less so than Leonard offering bundles of excuses to anybody he could snag. They went something like: 1) we had to milk the cow (just like all the other farmers in church); 2) the roads were icy (not just our roads?); 3) the car had a dead battery (yes, it always does in the morning, because it doesn’t hold a charge overnight); 4) we forgot to set our alarm clock; 5) someone misplaced the hairbrush. Before I got my driving license, it was tough being a teenager.
SEATAC, fantastic Seattle skyline. It’s a beautiful, diverse, powerful city: Boeing, Amazon, Microsoft. Port moves four million containers per year, plus cruises and fishing industry.
Check into Edgewater–I made my deadline!
M at airport! Back to hotel. Dinner: M loves scallops. Room service for breakfast. Space Needle. Pike Place Market. Exploring the piers.
M chooses WWE wrestling movie: Fighting With My Family.

Day 7 (Seattle WA to Bellingham WA)

Time to kill before short ride to the port at Bellingham WA. Room service breakfast, check out as late as possible
Hop onto northbound Interstate 5. Jump off at Chuckanut Junction, proceed on Chuckanut Drive to get a peek at the fancy houses and gorgeous coastline of North Washington.
Arrive early, kill a little time before taking our place in the queue to load the HD aboard the Kennicott, a ferry operated by the Alaska Marine Highway. Scheduled to depart Bellingham 13 July 19 at 6 pm; arrive Whittier AK 18 July 19 at 6 am.
We strap the HD down as best we can with a spiderweb of straps in preparation for Titanic-type eventualities. We carry everything we own to Pursers office and are assigned room 67B. Absolutely fabulous–far too nice for us. It’s like we joined the marines and our two bunk mates went AWOL. Bunk beds, great shower, cafeteria dinner, early to bed.
Luckily, no phone service outside the ports, so we catch up on reading and watch Ralph wreck the internet. You won’t believe what happened today; it was just like Titanic, but without the collision with the iceberg. Nice scenery, particularly if you appreciate gazing across the still sea at evergreen trees.
Stopped at Juneau; C got some dough, but M remained onboard
Just before this trip, I took a break during a chess game to hang two portraits for Hanna. Used wall plugs in a brick wall. T had never seen wall plugs before. How can a 55-year-old man make it through life without ever requiring the use of a wall plug? Reminds me of Kevin using bread ties to attach his license plates.
By ferry, Bellingham WA to Whittier AK: 1,629 miles in 4.5 days

Day 12 (Whittier AK to Anchorage AK)

Whittier Tunnel! Anton Anderson Memorial Tunnel passes under Maynard Mountain, 2.5 miles long! It’s the longest tunnel in North America. One lane, including a train track, is shared by cars alternating direction and the occasional train. Ten-minute ride is a high-wire act for a motorcycle, balancing between the tracks–the light at the end of the tunnel really could be a train. We were lucky to ride right in without waiting. A the end, thirty cars waited for us to clear.
Such a nice ride from Whittier AK to Anchorage AK on the Seward Highway
Captain Cook Hotel is among the nicest hotels in the nicest city in Alaska. Loads of cruisers hop ship and stay over in Anchorage en route to Denali. Next time ask for a room in Tower One (not Three).
In 1778, Captain Cook aboard the HMS Endeavor, while engaged on his third expedition of the Pacific, visited what is now Alaska in search of the Northwest Passage (across North America). Upon discovery of what has become known as Cook Inlet, he dispatched William Bligh (of HMS Bounty fame) to explore. Bligh returned first to report Knick Arm (no passage) whereupon he was dispatched again and in frustration named the inlet towards Anchorage “Turn Again Arm.” Shortly thereafter Cook returned to “Sandwich Islands” Hawaii, where after a high-handed scuffle he was bonked, stabbed, boiled, and boned–a simple end to a long and distinguished career.

Day 13 (Anchorage AK to Homer AK)

Two years prior I made this same journey with N. The mountains then along Seward Highway were spectacularly clad in snow. After record temps this year, no snow. Still a nice ride. “No man crosses the same river twice for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man (and it’s not the same passenger),” – Heraclitus.
At the turnoff to Alyeska, an Iditarod Racing Team offers shows to tourists. Maybe next time we can make time for it.
Happened by Mama’s BBQ. Our talkative adolescent intern server bestowed local advice (don’t get eaten by a bear or trampled by a moose) and informed us that we were eating the Top 10 BBQ in North America. She poured poor from every pore; when I asked her the secret to the BBQ she rendered a genuine harrumph in reply. “We can’t tell you, it’s Mama’s secret!”
Halibut fishing; the future of the halibut depends on the 70# + females (throw those back!)
When a batch of halibut hatch by the thousands, they school around as upright fry. As they mature, they begin swimming deeper, until they migrate to the seafloor and begin scrounging around the gulf of Alaska in a clockwise pattern. As a result their center of gravity shifts and their eyes rotate to their right side. Their bottom turns white and they join the other “righty” halibut. However, 1/20 fish rotates in a counter-clockwise direction and becomes a “lefty” halibut. I want to interview one and discover the “why?” of their original decision to swim against twenty thousand comrades and continue to do so for an entire lifetime. Also, “How has that worked out for you?”
Steller Air to Brooks Falls. The takeoffs and landings on lakes and ocean bay are epic. Too bad Hanna was not with us to see: a) brown bears; b) jumping sockey salmon; c) brown bears eating jumping sockeye salmon
M liked mama eating salmon while being badgered by two cubs; teen hooligan bear trying to commandeer a rowboat; and the salmon successfully making the jump at Brooks Falls without being eaten. After a number of tries, only 6/100 salmon survive the ordeal to hatch in the gravel beds of tributaries feeding Brook Lake. The failures, if not eaten, give up and improvise below the falls.
Grizzly bears are a subspecies of brown bears. The female can breed at 4.5 years old. She keeps her cubs for three to four years before breaking up the family in the spring to prepare for a new June mating season. The salmon come in July, give or take a few weeks. Since salmon die after laying eggs and fertilizing them, the run is a meal-plus-leftovers ordeal for the bears.
The big males dominate Brooks Falls during the day, while the teens and sows scrounge downstream. At the falls, the bears eat the skin, eggs, and brains and let the remainder drift downstream where they are devoured by scroungers.
As long as the salmon are running, the falls are patrolled 24/7 by the bears. When the males slumber, the teens and sows assume their positions on the falls.
Dinner and breakfast at the Land’s End Chart Room restaurant! Alaska King Crab; King Crab Benedict. M: seafood fettucini
Andrej informs us that Cook Inlet is the engine of the Bay of Alaska fishery. “Imagine a four-year-old’s bottom scooching fore and aft in a half-full clawfoot bathtub–that’s what happens as the tides rise and fall daily and 100,000 square km of southern AK drains into the inlet.”
Land’s End Hotel–the history is captured in portraits on the walls. Best rooms: 212, 214, 216, 218, 220! No room service and no laundry.
Aboard the Artemis, M caught the biggest fish of the day!
Tuesday is halibut holiday, and we fish for salmon
Out of space, out of time: what if all this fireweed and fishing is a dream and last night’s dream is actually reality? I have to start behaving better in my dreams.

Day 18 (Homer AK to Wasilla AK)

As we ride down the Spit for the final time and round Beluga Lake in steady light cold rain, we see all the planes bobbing at their docks. The charter fishing trips and bear watching are cancelled and the tourists are grounded. What luck we had with weather–everyday was sunshine and seas of glass. The lady at Brooks Falls had said, “Only one in five days can you capture bears eating jumping salmon like this.”
Phoned Homer Fish Processing before departure. They are shipping Hanna 191 pounds of halibut and salmon.
The poor black bear has become Alaska’s most hated man. Moose herds are under pressure; every hunter wants one but the black bears keep nicking the babies, and there’s not much the mama moose can do about it. Aside from grizzlies, the black bears don’t have any natural predators. Guided hunting in Alaska is big business, so the Alaska Fish and Game has made it open season on black bears 24/7/365 (limit of three, but who’s counting).
M is willing to sleep on the back of a motorcycle; those who ride understand the impossibility of catching a passenger who slips off. Luckily, when she is awake, she lolls around like a baby koala bear. When she goes still, or when I feel her helmet clunk into my back, I pull over and accuse her of sleeping. My solution is to limit travel time to short rides (thus the ferries and plane flights). This ride to Wasilla is the longest of the trip for her.
My phone died right as we were embarking on the second day of fishing. I stop by the Apple Store in Anchorage and for full-price-plus, I slowly, slowly, slowly coax a replacement out of them. Helluva setback timewise and a loss of recent pics (ouch), causing us to miss visiting Iditarod Headquarters today and setting us up for a hectic tomorrow.
The Mat-Su Resort sits on a lovely lake and has a nice restaurant. The ride was long and rough: drizzle, drowsy, construction traffic, redlights, driveways, gravel. We are too strung out to appreciate the lake or restaurant. It would be a nice getaway destination for a couple.

Day 19 (Wasilla AK to Denali AK)

M loves the puppies. Cute dog ride through the trees on a clever cart.
The Iditarod movie has been revised. The old one was epic.
Headed to Denali at 11:30
Ride to Denali was more boring than I remembered: it’s not so much the place as how we were in the place
Grand Denali Lodge: beautiful views of the park, but Denali is over 100 miles away and cannot be seen from the lodge. There are three possible ways of maybe seeing it (depending on overcast conditions and weather): 1) charter a plane and fly above the clouds, when the weather permits; 2) take the bus into the park. The ride gets you close enough to steal a peak, if you’re lucky; 3) ride the train from Anchorage through the park and you might be able to sneak a peak as the train crosses the Knik River.
The highlight is Homestead Huskies: hamster wheels (see pic above) are great. The dog team treadmill is epic. Great presentation. M held more puppies than at the Iditarod Headquarters (these were younger). Compared to last time: Travis (Y!); Ellen (N); Jeff (N). Two new bus drivers being groomed to take over racing from Jeff? No sign of Jeff’s three daughters.

Day 20 (Denali AK to Fairbanks AK)

Breakfast at lodge: King Benedict isn’t half as good as at Land’s End. This is a stopover location for cruise ship passengers, while Land’s End is a proper destination for all guests. The lodge features a breakfast buffet and ordering off the breakfast menu annoys the kitchen and wait staff.
Stop by the park puppy center, but their first show doesn’t accommodate our travel schedule–off to Fairbanks
Governor cut funding for AK Ferry, so the workers went on strike. Lucky timing for us.
Sunny, light traffic, windy, and winding. When N and I rode two years ago it was treacherous–heavy truck traffic in cold rain
Met some drizzle and traffic in the mountains as we approached Fairbanks
Golden North Hotel = Bates Motel–Norman at the front desk and Mrs Bates cleaning rooms. Mary is giggling as she gets the reference, since she knows she won’t be sleeping here tonight. Showers to dinner and then packing for M.
M Miles: motorcycle – 14 days 1,060 miles; ferry – 4.5 days 1,629 miles; flights 6,143 miles. Total M = 15 days, 8,832 miles.
M’s page: “This trip was a 5.5 out of 10 which is 50.50%. It was really fun. My favorite part was the puppies because they are so cute and funny. I hope Papa has a great rest of his trip. [drawing of smiling M with puppy]”
M catches midnight plane to Denver. C returns to sleep with one eye open at the Bates Motel.

Day 21 (Fairbanks AK to Tok AK)

Really missed M today
North Pole, just outside of Fairbanks. Met Billy Bob at the liquor store/gas station/grocery/teen hangout/Stihl dealership. His ride is sporting steer horns–a 4WD ATV with a lawnmower engine. He offered a set of elk antlers for my motorcycle and on an impromptu basis bestowed free local knowledge. He’s never been to Canada, but it’s awfully far. Best to return to Anchorage to get there (Google thinks that will take twice as long). If your vehicle starts with a pull cord, Canada would be quite the far ride. Billy Bob is truly at home in North Pole AK.
Stopped for a break at Cathedral Creek and got eaten by forty-two mosquitoes
All alone on the highway SE to Tok. Now I know how Lefty must feel.
Hanna wouldn’t have to wash her car if she lived in Alaska. She says Tok means crazy in Swedish. For those heading north on the ALCAN, Tok is the point where one has to decide to head north toward Fairbanks to fish for dolly varden or west toward Anchorage to fish for salmon.

Day 22 (Tok AK to Whitehorse YT)

Began the day dressed in a trash bag (deja vu all over again). Socks are wet within five minutes of departure. What ensues for the next six hours is pure misery.
Missed opportunity at Canadian border: “What do you have for protection?” Wish I had replied, “Condoms?”
Slowed down after losing traction and almost wiping out on a curve with a puddle. Rain, cold, wind, gravel, potholes, gravel, frost heaves, gravel, curvy mountain roads, and gravel . . . all the way to Destruction Bay.
The first time I saw Lake Kluane I almost self-actualized in my seat. It was sunny, windy, and wickedly rugged. The next two times it was foggy, rainy, cold, miserable. Places remain, but moments are not easily replicated.
Caught intermittent relief from rain as I press on to Whitehorse. Arrive late, wet through and through.
Upgrade second day by relocating from the Westin to Edgewater Hotel.
The Hotel 98 is like the bar in Star Wars. I overhear two codgers from outer space describing a newbie: “If the environment don’t kill him, the wildlife will.”
One hundred years ago, Robert Service mentioned: The Men Who Don’t Fit In; The Law of the Yukon; Men of the High North; The Trail of ninety-eight; and to read my favorite, if you have an extra five minutes, please download this pdf: Spell_of_the_Yukon.
Call of the Wild too! And the wild is calling, calling . . . let us go.

Day 24 (Whitehorse YT to Muncho Lake BC)

The extra day in Whitehorse was divine, but now heading for the barn in earnest. Depart in dark drizzle, ugh.
Yukon, Larger Than Life: yes it is
Weather vacillates between dreary and delightful. Road = great!
Crossing to Alberta: five different bear sightings; three different buffalo herds (one with almost 100 head?)
Ride hard to get to Muncho Lake by nightfall, nicest place on the Alaska Highway outside of Whitehorse
Tried to reserve a room en-route, but located no phone service the whole long way. Luckily one of their nicest rooms is available (for a price).
Pitched Urs to bring Homestead Huskies to Muncho Lake. Since huskies has nothing to do with flying, the idea seemed to annoy him. Some seeds fell on stony ground.

Day 25 (Muncho Lake BC to Fort St John BC)

No phone service all the way to Fort St John BC

Day 26 (Fort St John BC to Ponoka AB)

One of the five worst haircuts of my life from Mustafa at Casa Blanca Haircuts
Another great Canadian sign: Do Not Use Engine Retard Brakes!
Fields of canola
Alaska Highway ends and the road changes to provincial highways, the equivalent of our interstates, except no on/off ramps and no flyovers

Day 27 (Ponoka AB to Choteau MT)

Canada Rodeo Hall of Fame
Just 7 miles past “Head Smashed in AB” a blue chevy pickup doing 70 mph plowed into the back of a semi-load of hay doing 10 mph. That is why, in America, we build exit ramps on interstate highways.
Intense fog to Calgary, then EZ highway to border, then intensely fast two-lane thru beautiful vistas (past No-Glaciers National Park)

Day 28 (Choteau MT to Buffalo WY)

Kept looking for Sioux, Cheyenne, Arapaho scouts atop bluffs, but they were too wily for me
Sad to have again passed by the museum of the Little Bighorn Battle, but just couldn’t spare the time
Big Sky across a Very Big State. Steve and Jake begged me to join them in Sturgis Rally, but I’d rather take yellow medicine. It was a childhood cure-all: the horrible taste discouraged children from claiming to be sick.

Day 29 (Buffalo WY to Denver CO)

Gone before dawn
Home again, home again, jiggety-jig

*******

A Perfect Finish includes many scenes involving the Alaska Highway, Harley-Davidson and Ducati motorcycles, and touring North America. However, for those who ride, there is a particular chapter which embraces the spirit of riding a Harley-Davidson motorcycle on the Alaska Highway: please read the sample chapter entitled The Fatalist.

Go back to Riding the ALCAN on a Harley