It was cold the night before… the campground was filled, tons of hunters roaming (and shooting) on the landscape, and the overall wet conditions prompted us to look for shelter.
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| Diane's bike - we were covered in mud from head to toe (Photo - Diane Mead) |
The RV shelter in campground had a little trailer available for rent, the kind you would pull behind your pickup truck. It was cozy enough for 3 to dry out and the campground had hot showers… SOLD!
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| The morning after... waking up in a trailer! |
We woke up with in a very relaxed state, repacked and ate
breakfast out of the rain. The rain did not let up the entire trip, until the
last hour back into Anchorage. Today we were going to split from Diane, as she
was heading all the way into to Anchorage, and Michael and I were heading to Talkeetna
for another night. Jazz was riding up from Anchorage to meet us for beer and
dinner.
We packed up and headed out. It always amazes me how light
Michael travels… and organized. I always look like a tornado went through my
living space. It doesn’t matter if the space is small or large, or if I am
coming or going… I just don’t have the discipline he does for order. This
translates to… I never know exactly where anything is… and I always end up
opening at least 2 or 3 bags looking for something.
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| Michael's pile of motorcycle gear is on the left... my stuff is everywhere else. |
We hit the road; visibility was minimal, the rain was relentless, and idiot drivers were trying to kill us (with the down pour and visibility, our speed dropped from 65 to probably 55mph – too slow for folks in a hurry). We stopped at Mary’s McKinley View for lunch and bid farewell to Diane.
We pressed on to Talkeetna in the rain. Michael’s heated
gear was no-longer heated. (It turns out that he had so much mud caked over the
radiator; the air-flow was clogged, causing the fan to run most of the time.
Between the fan running most of the time, the heated gear, and him charging his
IPhone, it depleted the overall voltage and maxed out the alternator. The gear
just wasn’t heating up properly with those conditions.) By the time we reached
the Talkeetna Alaskan Lodge we were ready for a beer!
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| Lobby of the Talkeetna Alaskan Lodge |
We checked in, a little odd to move from a campground to a luxury hotel, but we were not complaining. You know it’s a first class place when the hangers actually come of the bar in the closet! The lamp shades came in at a solid 3 (on a scale of 1-5, 5 being best).
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| Lampshade grade 3... nothing special |
We waited for Jazz in the bar; talking about the interesting things we saw and heard on this trip. I enjoyed the stream crossings the most. I have never had good luck crossing water. I can think of two times in the past when I have dumped a motorcycle in or near a stream. They always make me nervous. Fortunately on this trip, we all had success with water. Not so for all; the night before sitting in the Sluice Box drinking coffee, the bartender told us about a group of guys that came through a few days earlier and tried crossing Valdez Creek unsuccessfully. He said one rider headed straight across and hit a sudden drop off (invisible due to the murky water color). The front tire dropped suddenly and the entire rider and bike disappeared momentarily. The bike resurfaced with the rider on the side. The bartender said the saddle bags actually acted like floatation devices on the bike. Both rider and bike were salvaged. This story is my greatest nightmare with water crossings. Now I have more information to rattle around in my head the next time I am approaching a water crossing.
Jaz arrived… time for beer.
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| Diversity in beer - Michael, Me, and Jazz |
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