Welcome to the official start of Todds Alaska ride and a Happy Father’s Day to everyone. Judging by Federico, aka Freddy’s recent survey we are as Steve Martin used to say; A Wild And Crazy Guys. And if your not in our age group of middle fifties guys and your mind needs refreshing I’m referring to a Dan Aykroyd and Steve Martin sketch where they played Yortuk (Aykroyd) and Georg (Martin) two brothers who emigrated from Czechoslovakia to the United States.
In our case we have three almost brothers from a different mother (Roberto 1, Roberto 2 and Fast Freddy) and a sister called Roseanne Roseannadanna who set off nearly thirteen years ago from Mexico City on KTM motorcycles with a vision to one day arrive in Alaska; enabled by the likes of a guy who back then called himself a satellite navigation device known as gps. He added three letters to his name and the results are, surprise, surprise, here we all are; thank you and a happy Father’s Day to you too!
Oh and the sister Roseanne Roseannadanna fell for a muy guapo blondy guy somewhere around Oregon, hung up her KTM and said adios to her dream about being the first woman from her barrio to arrive in Alaska.
Our age group is about the middle fifties. For the next ten days we travel around Alaska. Today it’s all about leaving Anchorage in our rear view mirrors and heading towards Fairbanks (360mi), with stops for gas, sightseeing and possibly feeding the wildlife. Mosquitoes to me now qualify as wildlife.
Roberto’s 1,2 and Freddy paid a visit to the wildlife conservatory ($20 each) and as we walked around we soon realized that in this place you don’t feed the wildlife, because they feed on you. Clouds of flying vermin like vampires feasted on us around the head, neck and hands. Bus loads of passengers soon showed up and the buffet lunch bell sounded. We paid to see Alaskan wildlife in their natural surroundings without a chance to get eaten, mauled or rundown. What we first got was a little disappointing until we came up to the grizzlies.
Four of us arrived on our motorcycles from Prince George, Alaska without any problems whatsoever. Ok, ok, just who do I think I’m kidding. My little Versys chain crapped out causing us to delay our departure by about three hours.
The five Alaskan bikers that joined us are now on new KTM, Husky or Honda. My new friend Deck-land from King’s Land originally who never ever owned this particular part of the world was having a miserable time.
A misplaced vital front tire part fell off and may yet keep him from riding. Tom was able to pull out a box of spare spacers, one that fit nicely, except that it was too wide. Non of the others matched up so, it was now up to Deckland to take a grinder to it, to make it work. What could possibly go wrong with that scenario. Well for one my wife would say; that’s far too dangerous to do; he should wait for the motorcycle shop to open so he can purchase a proper set. And perhaps as always, she may be right. We’re in Anchorage and still haven’t seen him or Brian.
With nearly 24 hours of daylight it was easy to look for the missing part. We looked everywhere from the pickups truck bed, to the the shed, the walkway but, still no luck. The part probably fell off at the Motorcycle shop while they were installing a new tire and by the time it was noticed the shop was closed.
Gauntlets all around! There’s actually a word. It means a stout glove with a long loose wrist. In Alaska you need to keep your vitals from freezing and so someone devised a black sheep lined cover for either side of your handlebars whereas you insert your hand into. The result is something like, aaaahhhhh.
Like bedroom slippers for the hands. We all got’em. And now everyone is also carrying spare fuel canisters and at least one that I know of is carrying bear spray deterrent. “What about a gauntlet for my guevos declared that wild and crazy guys from Mexico City. Todd said; we’re still trying to perfect those.
It was nearly midnight when we called it quits. Outside the daylight still shone. The only difference was that it was now considerably colder.
Today is supposed to be a mellow start to this ride because the preparations to get here were horrendous for some.
In 2009 my friend John Lang (third from the left) and four others (Gina, second from the left) and yours truly set out to run the course for a future Alaskan race called the Wet Dog Race, a 2000 mile Personal Watercraft (Jet Ski’s) Endurance Race.
They showed up today to meet my new adventure friends and share experiences, a binder full of newspaper stories and old pictures and memories. This event was supposed to be on the scale of Americas Deadliest Catch in entertainment value.
We are all older, wiser and hindsight is 50/50. The fact that we survived after 1,000 miles of travel on Alaskan waters is also remarkable.
Kinney Rodgers was a wise man when he sang; You gotta know when to hold ’em, know when to fold ’em
Know when to walk away and know when to run!
And Tyedye Keith who unfortunately couldn’t attend came up with a flowchart for our explanation to you.
And as we passed through Wasilla and made our way around the lake someone thought they spotted a Sarah Palin look alike; wearing curlers and smoking a cigarette while chatting on her cellphone.
And then as we passed halfway up on our way to Mather Pass we almost hit snow. Thankfully Riley was tracking Tom on her phone and told him to turn around; you’re gonna hit snow! And so we made our way back to our original tracks. Boring. It took a while before that stretch of road took us to the town of Talkeetna.
Everyone was now on their own for a snack according to Todd. The boys were surprised at the paper thin tacos with a tiny little sliver of a fish called a halibut that went for nearly $20 US.
Every one looked for a good lunch spot. Al Pacino and I saw a gyro sign and went for it. While inside we changed our minds to splitting a burrito. Then I saw it. Posole. The woman who made it is from Coatepec, around the Veracruz area. We know it caused we’ve biked there. That’s where Todd and Joey; well that’s another story and what happened in Mexico……..
Healy, Alaska. Tom was supposed to guide us here but, he just couldn’t compete with my little Klondike Versys so I guess I got ahead of his KTM 890 somewhere.
The movie replica of the bus where Chris McCandless lived (and died) sits in front of a bar. Inside the bus are photos and a storyline of McCandless’s attempt to reconnect with nature or so they say; truth is he starved to death for being a wild and crazy guy.
The original derelict bus was moved off its wilderness trail location in June 2020 because visitors kept dying just trying to make their way to it.
Shelter from the rain! Give me shelter from the rains. The skies now poured out their icy cold waters while the roads twisted and turned and undulated up , up over and around. Finally we made it through and survived to live another ride.
Upon arriving at our hotel Gpskevin was waiting outside with warm and dry towels. I thought wow what a great guy. He’s here to welcome Roberto and I to the hotel and glad we made it in safely from the storm.
And then I see him handing a towel to Roberto and using the other to dry off his Kawasaki Versys. I guess you now know who his favorite Yoda is. Lol
End
Trawlercat Chronicles 