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Backroads
Motorcycles, Travel & Adventure
ALASKA-THE LAST FRONTIER
by Brian Rathjen
Jim, our pilot, gave a short laugh which filtered
through the headset as the small three-seater piper made a swing arc downwards
into the craggy, mountain enshrouded valley. Below us a number of mountain
goats disturbed by our unannounced appearance, bolted up and down the
almost vertical rock wall. I aimed my weapon of choice, a Nikon D100 and
squeezed off a few shots. Shira and I were at varying altitudes somewhere
in the Chugach Mountains, just east of Anchorage, Alaska.
This place was magnificent.
We had arrived a few days earlier to partake in a Harley Road Tour of
the 49th state, brought together by the experienced hand of Phil Freeman
of Alaska Rider Tours. Getting into Alaska early was definitely part of
our plan, as we find its always fun to arrive in a new place with a few
days to explore, time to get our body clocks, as well as our minds, adjusted
to the new and strange locale.
The first day we explored Alaska's largest city, Anchorage, with its many
exhibits, great Saturday market and superior brew pubs. The second day
we took to the air to get an eagle's eye vision of this incredible place
far to the north and west.
Officially the tour would begin on Monday, with our small group picking
up the Harleys before heading north. But, that Sunday night, we would
be meeting the rest of the tour group and have a welcoming dinner at one
of Anchorage's finer restaurants.
Strange thing about guided tours like these, you never know who you'll
end up riding with. It truly helps to have a group in sync with each other.
Nothing worse then having to spend a week on the road with a stranger
that is a bit strange. In this regard we have always been lucky, and up
here in the last frontier we hit lady luck once again. Our traveling companions
for the next week were two couples from Jacksonville, Florida- Pete and
Wendy and Jim and Elizabeth. These folks had known each other for many
years, traveled together and it was fairly apparent that they had enough
of the odd in them for us to fit right in. in fact, after dinner Shira
felt confident enough to say that I was home free. There was nothing I
could say that would top Pete- who seems to say anything that crosses
his mind. Excellent!
DAY ONE: ANCHORAGE TO TALKEETNA
Up and at 'em early at Alaska Rider Tours headquarters, located right
next to the House of Harley-Davidson of Anchorage, with its gorgeous chrome
bear outside, we took possession of our bikes; all '04 Hareys in perfect
shape with low mileage.
Shira and I had arranged for a Road King, as we felt it had a great balance
to it and also came with hard bags for stowing the Nikon and other necessities.
After signing all the necessary paperwork and listening to Phil's safety
speech we were all more than ready to get on the road. Keeping Alaska
Rider Tours' back was John, driving the chase van with all our gear and
dragging a spare dual sport bike just in case. Our "Mechanized Sherpa",
if you will.
Heading out of Anchorage we took Alaska 1, due north. Our final destination
that day was the small town of Talkeetna. This was the town, many years
ago, that inspired the folky TV classic Northern Exposure. We were looking
forward to checking it out, but not before spending the day following
Phil up and down little known mountain passes that he has discovered in
his travels. As we crossed over the Knik River, where we had flown by
just the day before, I was amazed at the sudden and deep drop in temperature.
It was a comfortable 70-something here in the 49th state, but when we
passed the river, fed by the glacier some twenty miles distant, the mercury
plummeted at least 20 degrees.
Following Alaska Rider's lead we cut through the town of Palmer and then
up through the Hatcher Pass. As we gained altitude the land took on that
strange alienesque look we have found in other such regions. Lush green
gave way to barren rock. Water cascaded down, powered by gravity and years
of practice. It was beautiful. But, nothing compared to what we would
see later that week. We took lunch at a small lodge at the summit, basking
in the surprisingly warm Alaska sun. Little mountain squirrels came a
beggin' for food. We shouldn't have, but we did. Hey, yesterday moose.
Today squirrel! Moose and squirrel- get it Natasha? Never mind.
Just as we were getting ready to head to a local deserted gold mine the
owner of the lodge came to us with an offer. If we would help him move
a small refrigerator, our lunch would be on him. Truth is we would have
helped him anyway, but the offer was made and it would have been rude
not to accept free food.
Alaska is a big state. So are their refrigerators. These things, we moved
three, were the size of the chase van. Talk about getting your money's
worth. I wanted dinner as well. Task completed we took in the mine at
independence summit and even spent some time panning for gold. No luck.
Maybe the next restaurant would need some air conditioners moved? We head
back down the pass and made our way back to the big road heading towards
Talkeetna. Somewhere along the next hour or so, we crested a small rise
and our sight had a clear shot north.
There was absolutely no mistaking what was ahead. Rising stark and white
against the bright azure sky- there was Denali! Sure, some call it Mount
McKinley, but show some respect and call it what it has been called by
natives for thousands of years- Denali- the great one!
It was a moment that took our breath away, and with the clear blue skies
above, we were told we saw as rare sight indeed, as Denali is enshrouded
in clouds much of the time. Banging a right for the road to Talkeetna
we stopped for that digital moment before continuing on to this funky
little town. That night I found that ART, what we came to call Alaska
rider tours, has the neatest tradition. Not only was John already there
with our luggage, but was waiting with ice cold Alaskan Summer Brews,
open and ready. Excellent way to end a successful day's ride! We stayed
that night at a small hotel. Clean and comfy, it worked in the Alaskan
wilderness. Phil had reservations at an excellent local restaurant and
even knew of a short cut through a wooded trail to get to the center of
the little burg. After dinner we poked around town and settled into a
local pub for a few adult beverages.
DAY TWO: TALKEETNA TO FAIRBANKS
We were up early to another incredibly beautiful Alaskan morning. Well,
even if the sun was up the thermometer was not. It was down right chilly.
But what would you expect just a few hundred miles south of the Arctic
Circle. Our Floridian friends donned their chaps and leathers and we our
Comfortemp and usual riding gear, making sure to zip everything up tight.
We headed back out to Highway 3, also called the Parks Highway, and shot
north. The entire morning was spent watching Denali grow larger before
our eyes. To see this mountain once was a rare treat but to have two consecutive
days of unlimited visibility was considered beyond a rare treat in Alaska.
We took breakfast at a neat lookout restaurant with a view of the "great
one" ever in sight. Walking up along a newly created foot path offered
an even more incredible vista of the white giant. Indeed, the other mountains
of the Alaska Range seemed like mere foothills to this monster which,
at some 20.320 feet, is the largest in North America. Continuing ever
northward we cut into Denali Park itself. The public road is open for
just the first twenty or so miles before you have to take a tour bus,
but each of the twenty miles was worth the ride.
At the turn around spot we spent an hour walking around a huge valley
surrounded by lush green ferns flanked high by sharp rocky outcroppings.
Down the middle a small river cut a path towards Denali itself.
Sitting on a large granite boulder it seemed to me as if I had been transported
back in time; it was like a scene from the Clan of the Cave Bear novels.
I could picture ancient man trudging down into what would be the Americas,
after crossing the land bridge from Asia. In those days mammoth and saber
tooth ruled this land. Today it belongs to the National Parks Service
who keep a close eye on the habitat.
Denali Park was, and is, awe inspiring. We took the road back out of the
park and grabbed lunch at a small place called Bub's Subs. Sitting out
on small log tables, with bike tinkering and cooling beside us Pete claimed
the Bub's had the, "most incredible, delectable, and impressive sandwiches
on the entire planet." Indeed he claimed, "Bub's was the very
epicenter of sandwich culinary heights!"
I guess he really like that Philly Cheese Steak. Everybody seemed very
content. I spent lunch eyeing the KLR on the trailer. This bike is considered
the work horse of dual sports and has a serious following around the globe.
I had a plan. The Harley wasn't fitting me well and Shira had basically
been put onto the pillion seat. As many of you know, not her favorite
place.Perhaps I could snag the KLR for a while and let Shira take the
Road King for a spell.
Always more fun to ride your own machine- no matter what.
Phil thought that a great idea as well. As long as nobody needed the back
up bike I might as well use it. Besides Shira looked great on the Road
King!
The road north opened up into a wide plain. Fir trees interspersed with
flowing streams.The Alaska Range flanked us high on both sides and the
road rose and fell with the contours of the land.
We were far away from home and it couldn't be more different or perfect.
We stopped in the town of Nenana where they have the strangest contest
in the nation. The Great Nenana Ice Classic.
Each year they bet when the ice on the Nenana River will begin to flow
again. The first person, or persons to correctly call the date and time
wins the pot. They call the exact time by using a huge tripod attached
to a clock. When the tripod flows down the river 100 yards a blade cuts
the tethered rope and the clock officially stops. Last year it broke at
1:26 PM and April 24 and some lucky person won some $300,000! We're in
it this year- May 4th at 3:26pm. Hey you gotta be in it to win it!
We continued towards the city of Fairbanks.Along the way we ran into some
construction. There was no more pavement and as Phil's Harley left the
road a huge plume of dust rose into the air blocking all vision. Shira
followed behind and then me and the rest of our group.
The KLR was right at home, so I thought this the perfect time to do a
little photography. It looked like we were riding through a sand storm.
And, indeed for a few miles that is what it was. Some 120 miles later
we pulled into Fairbanks, happy campers with big grins all around. John
and the brew were waiting in the lot. How he got ahead of us is beyond
me, but it worked for us.
Once again ART showed us an excellent evening, with dinner at one of Fairbanks
finer restaurants and rooms at an excellent hotel. We were living large
in the 49th state and loving it. Dinner a The Pump House was a combination
of delicious wines, great martinis and succulent and fresh Alaskan Sea
Food. Housed in an old building that once pumped water from the river
to crews who would use it to blast away dirt and rock while looking for
gold, it is on the National Historic Registry and served a superb dinner.
DAY THREE: FAIRBANKS TO PAXSON falcons, pipeline & moose
The morning of day three the group headed
to the local Harley shop, the northernmost in the USA while Shira and
I doubled up on the KLR to take a quick tour of Fairbanks and to grab
a private little breakfast alone. Along the way we stopped at Trail Ridge
BMW, the northernmost BMW dealer along with Alaska Fun Center Yamaha &
Kawasaki. It's always fun to check out local shops and pick up a new t-shirt
or two. Breakfast was fairly consistent with all the rest in Alaska -eggs,
bread, reindeer Sausage, sourdough pancakes with fresh Alaskan blueberries.
You know, the usual.
This would be the furthest North we would be on this trek, to head to
the Arctic Circle or Prudhoe Bay would mean another week and having everybody
on dual-sport bikes. Road bikes could possibly make it, but it wouldn't
be pretty. Up this far dual-sport is the way to go! This is a tour that
Phil and ART does regularly, and if that dream floats your boat, these
are the folks that can make that dream happen.
Us? We headed south on the Richardson Highway. Along the way we saw what
many of us took, for a second, to be a large eagle flying over the trees
directly ahead of us. A split second later we all realized it wasn't an
eagle, but a falcon - an F-16 Falcon. Minutes later the same F-16 was
doing touch and go landings while flying alongside us. Way of go U.S.
Air Force! Phil, how'cha manage that? We stopped for a while at a roadside
shop called the Knotty Store that featured great burl-wood creations.
We dug the collection of giant animals they had outside, all made of the
heavy wood. I think the mosquito got Shira.
We grabbed lunch in the town of Delta Junction and then headed towards
our home base for the night, some wilderness cabins located on the Gulkana
River, right outside of Paxson. Along the way we spent a great deal of
time following the great Trans-Alaskan Pipeline. Running for hundreds
of miles from Prudhoe to Valdez, the pipeline is truly a modern marvel
and seeing it stretch into what seems to be eternity is impressive. Along
one part of the pipeline a huge moose crashed out of one side of the forest
and bolted across the road directly in front of us. She was huge, but
timid and spent the next few minutes quietly watching me as I tried to
get a picture. The road from here south to Paxson was one of the most
incredible I have ridden in a ling time. Nothing challenging, but bringing
along with it the memorable of vistas. High mountains, wide green valleys,
broad flood plains- and more moose as we stopped to watch a mother and
suckling calf alongside a marsh. At one point we pulled over to take in
the view of the Isabel Glacier. Miles away, across a wide fir filled savanna,
it rose in a bright majestic white towards the heavens as my eye followed
the glacier back into the mountains.
Alaska truly is the last frontier and this day, each mile brought another
breathtaking scene. That night we made camp at the Denali Roadside Cabins
and took the chase van along a 20 mile stretch of the Denali Highway to
a neat place called the Tangle River Inn. Owned by Nadine and Jack Johnson
the Tangle River had a most impressive Arctic valley view, and it's not
uncommon to see herds of caribou on the move through this beautiful valley.
This night was the we had yet as, when we were done with dinner, we were
whisked to the bar and got to do a little karaoke singing with Nadine,
a former USO entertainer. Talent we have little of, but it was fun!
DAY FOUR: PAXSON TO VALDEZ Lake below the mountains Flowing to the sea Like oils applied to canvas They permeate through me Jimmy Buffett
Once again we headed west on the Denali Highway
to the Tangle Inn, this time on bikes and for breakfast. This highway
was once the only way into Denali Park itself, at least until the state
of Alaska felt it necessary to put an actual highway between Anchorage
and Fairbanks. Wide, vast and desolate it is filled with game lands, glacier
fed lakes and rimmed with high jagged peaks. It's so remote it almost
feels unearthly. A solo breakdown here would not be so wise. After fueling
the bodies up we headed back towards Paxson and then filled the bikes
before heading further south towards the port city of Valdez. Along the
way I could occasionally catch glimpses of the pipeline running along
the mountain ridge high above us.
We stopped by a wide lake that was rimmed by the still active volcano
called Mount Drum, part of the Wrangell Mountain Range. The huge ice-filled
caldera plainly visible, even at the great distance of many miles. A sleeping
monster of frozen majestic beauty. The road towards Thompson Pass rode
over wide rivers, violent with glacier silt and millions of gallons of
chilly water. The water in these rivers was so thick it looked like a
half-done roux.
As we neared the pass itself the flat tundra
gave way to spiring peaks and the road wound into the belly of these beasts.
Waterfalls and glaciers abounded. It was as if we had ridden into a fantasy
land of natural beauty and ruggedness. This was the Earth at its finest.
We stopped for an hour to hike into the Worthington Glacier. Here the
footing was slick, but the pulverized rocks in the ice made for a tentative
grip at best. Climbing up onto the glacier was fairly easy. Getting back
off was less than graceful. But, we all made it none the worse for wear.
Shira and I left our group while they were off exploring another valley
and the two of us sped towards Valdez. Entering Keystone Canyon we were
once again in a waterfall wonderland. One set of falls was the highest
continuing set of falls I have ever seen. Starting a few thousand feet
up at the summit peak and continuing all the way down to a raging river
it was quite the sight. Another falls, called Bridal Veil, was truly worthy
of its name. At this point the road hugged tight in the canyon, with red
granite walls nearly vertical right beside us. The northern sun gave the
walls a glowing effect. Twisting and turning it followed the course of
the river that formed it thousands of years ago. Alaska had simply laid
the road along nature's preferred path. Oma Desala (mother nature) always
knows best.
Each turn brought a new surprise and at this point I was beginning to
believe that this region of Alaska might be one of the finest places we
have ever ridden on the planet. And, that is saying quite a lot. Pulling
into our harbor-side hotel we grabbed showers and a few beers before going
out to explore Valdez.
DAY FIVE: VALDEZ TO THE MATANUSKA VALLEY
There is only one way in and out of Valdez,
at least by road, so the next day we doubled back the way we came in the
previous day. That was okay with us as Keystone Canyon and the Thompson
Pass were just as exciting and beautiful heading the other way. Once again
the weather was absolutely perfect. Mid-seventies, blue skies and puffy
white clouds.
From here we would be headed back towards Anchorage, but not before one
last night out on the road. The Glenn Highway heading west rolls through
a wide swath of fir trees that go on as far as my eyes could see. Off
in the distance yet another glacier poured its icy way down to the valley
floor.
The Glenn Highway snaked its way into the Matanuska Valley and once again
we found ourselves in a photographer's paradise. This final night on the
road ART really came through with superb little cabins, all with a splendid
view of the valley. During the entire tour we stayed at very nice places,
but the Sheep Mountain Lodge was, by far, the nicest of the trip. I guess
Phil was saving the best for last. That afternoon, after taking a hike
to find the sheep grazing high above us, we sat on the rustic porch, sipped
a few beers and watch the sun never set.
DAY SIX MATANUSKA VALLEY TO ANCHORAGE
Our final day on the road started like the
previous five. Brilliant sunshine and moderate temperatures. All of us
were less than eager to have the tour end, but as they say….
We took off in a generally westerly direction, as the road to Anchorage
had to follow the contours of the valley and construction on the road
slowed us down just a bit. I stopped for another Canon moment and then
played catch up with the rest of the group. Along one straight piece of
pavement I saw a black glove come tumbling off one of the Harleys, and
as it passed underneath me I slowed, made a u-turn and went back to retrieve
Elizabeth's glove. By the time I got it safely into my pocket and got
turned back around my riding buddies were nowhere in sight. I put the
KLR into Warp Drive and took off after them. Little did I know that just
a quarter mile down the road from where I had first turned back for the
glove, they had made a quick left on a tiny dirt road and headed towards
the Matanuska Glacier, which I was busy admiring from the road high above.
Some twenty minutes later and after a series of really tight twisters
that brought me down to the river, formed by glacial melt, I realized
I was on my own. There was no way I couldn't have caught them. I was perplexed.
Where could they have gone? The group in the meantime were busy climbing
atop the glacier itself in a vain attempt to find our hero (that'd be
me). Personally I had no problem. I kinda liked the idea of a solo jaunt
this far from home. I took the chance to simply enjoy the bright Alaskan
morn. Stopping here and there to take in the natural splendor that is
Great Land, the official nickname of the state. Along the way I even stumbled
onto a musk ox farm. Once almost Extinct, these creature now thrive up
here and even further north into the tundra. A couple or three hours later
I found myself in Palmer and then took the highway back to ART headquarters
in Anchorage, to be joined a few hours later by Shira, who went off looking
for me and then the rest of the group. The afternoon we spent a few last
hours in Alaska enjoying the sights, the brew pubs and, being to impressed
by the natural flora of the 49th state, we took an hour or so at the great
Alaskan Bush Company, wondering at the incredible natural beauty this
state could provide, before one final dinner together and grabbing a 1
am flight back to the lower 48 and eventually home.
THE BOTTOM LINE
Alaska, the US' largest state, had boundless
natural charm. From the cities of Anchorage and Fairbanks to its rich
natural beauty of Denali, the endless valleys and its numerous glaciers-the
place is beyond stupendous.
The people were charming and friendly and our hosts, Alaska Rider Tours,
did a most excellent job of showcasing their fantastic state.
Whether it be on Harley-Davidson road tour on Alaska's paved highways
or a rugged dual-sport ride on Kawasaki KLR 650's to Prudhoe Bay, you
will find Alaska is all you have ever heard it was.
Truly, the last frontier.
For more information call Alaska Rider Tours at 800-756-1990 or log onto
www.akrider.com
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