Departure: My friend, Marty, came by the house at 9 AM on June 20, and we headed across the Golden Gate Bridge and north on 101. We took Highway 37 across the wetlands to Vallejo and went east on I-80, and then north on I-505 (to bypass Sacramento) and then north on I-5. The weather was warm but pleasant enough, and we stayed on I-5 to Redding, where we went on CA 299 to Alturas and met John there at the Hacienda Motel. I've stayed at the Hacienda enough times over the years that I think I should get a frequent guest discount. John has a big BMW R1200GS Adventure, but for this trip he rode his 800cc BMW F650GS twin. Like me, he thought a lighter bike might be better suited for the type of roads we'd be on.
The next day we rode north on US 395 into Oregon and followed it through the mountains in the eastern part of the state, going over several 5000 foot passes. This is dry, high plains country, not spectacular but scenic enough and there was little traffic. In Pendleton, OR we turned on OR 11 and went into Washington, where we picked up US 12 in Walla Walla. We followed that road and then OR 127 to Walla Walla, where we met Dan, a friend of ours from Chicago, who joined us on his BMW R1200RT for the ride to Alaska. We all rode north on US 19 towards Spokane.
The Northwest corner of Washington is part of the scenic Selkirk Loop, a series of roads that goes through the Selkirk mountains in Washington, British Columbia, and Idaho. North of Spokane we rode on US 2 to Sand Point where Marty continued east to ride to Milwaukee where he would visit family. The rest of us went north on WA 20, 211, and 31 to the border crossing at Nelway, BC. The weather had been getting cooler and grayer, and we had first a few sprinkles and then a light drizzle as we rode up BC 6, stopping at a hotel in Nelson for the night. Nelson must be where all the Canadian hippies retire to, and there are many shops that sell crystals, organic and vegetarian foods, crafts, and incense. There were young people there, but also a lot of older people (like us) - the guys with long gray ponytails, and the women in loose, long dresses. Nelson is known as the "pot capital" of Canada, and that might explain why we saw more Canadian patrol cars in the short ride from the border than we would in all the rest of Canada.
It rained overnight, and the next morning was cool and promised more rain. In fact we would have cool (50-60F) weather and rain every day until we arrived in Fairbanks. Apparently, we had just missed some unseasonably warm and dry weather, because every time we stopped, someone would come up and tell us that it had been 30C the week before. Outside of Nelson we picked up BC 3A into Balfour, where we took a ferry across Kootenay Lake to Kootenay Bay.
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| In line for the ferry across Kootenay Lake |
Route 3A stays close to the lake and we followed it to Creston, where it ends. We took BC 3 and then 95 (the Crowsnest) to Cranbrook and then BC 93 north to Radium Hot Springs, where we spent the night at a motel. The rain had stopped and we had plenty of light to walk up the road to the hot springs, which were closed by the time we got there.
The next morning (June 24) greeted us with cold, hard rain. We rode into Banff National Park and went north on the Ice Fields Parkway. John and I had stopped at Lake Louise three years ago on another Alaska trip, and while the lake and surrounding area is beautiful, it is a prime tourist destination, with a two level parking lot full of tour buses and RVs, a large ugly hotel, and people everywhere. Dan had never been there, and although he said he'd be happy to keep that status, I insisted we stop. We all agreed that we never needed to stop there again. The Ice Fields Parkway is usually a beautiful ride, with rugged mountains all around, glaciers, and a well-maintained and curvy road. However, on that day with cold rain and fog that obscured the views it was just a wet slog to Jasper, where we had planned to go west on Highway 16 to Prince George. Unfortunately, there had been a mud slide on 16 and the road was closed. The rain had stopped, but there was no estimate of when the road would be cleared, so we found a vacancy at a motel in town (the rooms were going fast to other stranded travelers) and had the opportunity for a pleasant walk around Jasper.
The next morning started out clear and we were told that Highway 16 was open, although with one way traffic control in sections. We rode by the mud slide area where workers were busy clearing the road, and continued on 16, the Yellowhead Highway, along the Frasier River with mountains on either side to Prince George. We stayed on 16 through Vanderhoof, Burns Lake, and Smithers, and into the Hazelton Mountains. At Kitwanga, we went north on 37 to Meziadin junction, where we were anticipating a gas station/general store/restaurant, but the place had apparently burned down and there was little left except a concrete pad and some rubble. We took 37A to Stewart, stopping for pictures of the Bear Glacier which comes right down to the river that the road runs alongside. The rain had returned, and although the road is curvy and usually a delight, we took it easy out of deference to the wet surface, and also to gravel on the road.
We were sad to discover that the restaurant at the Sealaska Inn was no long open - the owner had passed away a couple of years ago and his wife didn't want to bother running the restaurant. It was raining and cold the next morning, and when I looked out the window of the motel room, I saw a large, black bear in the back of a pickup truck parked across the road. Apparently, the owner had left a big plastic garbage bag in his truck, and the bear was looking for breakfast.
The locals are accustomed to bears wandering around town, and as I snapped away from the safety of the motel room door, a man came riding by on his bicycle. He yelled and waved his arms at the bear, who climbed down from the truck and lumbered off into the woods.
My son and Dan and I stayed in Hyder on another motorcycle trip in 2004. At that time we'd had a delicious breakfast at a restaurant there, but, unfortunately, it closed a couple of years ago. We loaded the bikes and rode back to Stewart and to Meziadin Junction, where we continued on Highway 37 to Bell 2, where we stopped to warm up and have breakfast. Outside the restaurant we saw two bicycles loaded down with camping gear. They belonged to a Canadian couple, who were on their honeymoon and intended to ride all the way to Tierra Del Fuego. Note the duct tape on the front tire of the guy's bike - he said that he'd get a new tire at a bicycle shop in Nelson, which was about 200 miles away.
The Cassiar Highway had been officially paved its entire length since the last time I was there, although parts of it are so rough and have so many potholes that the distinction is somewhat irrelevant. We made a quick stop at Jade City north of Dease Lake, and continued on to Watson Lake where the Cassiar ends at the Alcan. We were sad to see that Sally's Cafe at the junction had closed.
In spite of the cool signpost forest, Watson Lake is a rather charmless town. The next morning we headed north on the Alcan, passing through Rancheria and Teslin, where we stopped for breakfast at the lodge restaurant outside of town. Unfortunately, the owner informed us that he had a tour bus coming shortly, and wouldn't be able to serve us.
We stopped at an overlook before leaving the Alcan and riding down into Whitehorse, Yukon Territory. I noticed that the front tire on Dan's bike was badly cupped to the extent that cord was showing in places. We stopped at a convenient Yamaha dealer just outside of town, and they had a tire that would fit Dan's bike and they were also willing to work on it right away. John and I went into town and secured a place to stay, and by the time we got back to the Yamaha dealer Dan's bike was almost ready.
We continued on the Alcan past Destruction Bay - fortunately the road construction we rode through three years ago had been completed. We rode through Beaver Creek and into Alaska, not even bothering to take a picture of the welcome sign - been there, done that. We spent a very rainy night at Fast Eddie's Motel in Tok, and the next morning Dan announced that he thought he should ship his bike home from Fairbanks and fly from there to Chicago. He had a cold and bad cough when we met him in Washington, and over the next week or so the cough had become worse, and the cold and wet weather we'd been riding in certainly wasn't doing him any favors. At Delta Junction (the junction of Highways 2 - The Alcan - and 1) we stopped for breakfast, cold and wet and hungry.
The weather began to clear when we were about 100 miles from Fairbanks, and by the time we got there it was quite pleasant. We immediately went to The Outpost motorcycle shop where Dan arranged to have his bike shipped to Chicago. After an hour or so of phone calls, he also managed to get on a flight that would take him to Chicago. We left him at the shop awaiting his ride to the airport, and John and I went back into town to find a hotel.
