Alaska Ride News, Vol. 1, Dispatch No. 6 (July 2023), pp. 17/7/2023: Didn’t plan it this way but, for the second time this ride; the turtle has beaten the hare. I’m the first person of our little ride group to arrive in Eagle Alaska and our little B&B right on the Yukon River. Fortunately my friend Tom is starting to notice and is wondering where the ride stories are going to come from if I’m not there with the group. He’s absolutely correct and tomorrow I promise to not be (Ralph Lone-wolf) the wild and crazy guy!
Todd and two mini-me’s sons Scotty and Riley would’ve for sure caught me if I would’n’ve earlier drained those two gallons of fuel from Scotty’s tank. Kidding. Saw them arrive at the Chevron and Todd said something to the effect of Scotty not filling up sufficiently. Just had to throw those thoughts in here for Tom; he’s the one that could possibly get away with it.
Earlier at the store I met and spoke to Tom from Toledo. He told me he ran into a group of Mexican riders; all were on BMW GS large motorcycles but one. He was on a scooter. He said he told the group this guy here’s the MAN!
I’m looking around now for eagles and can’t seem to find any. They probably left with the Russian trappers that also used to live here. Nearby is Ft Egbert it’s the first US Fort established after we purchased Alaska from the Russian Tsar.
And speaking of road karma. On my ride into Eagle I said, this is both the toughest and the best maintained dirt road around. Better roads than getting to McCarthy but, plenty of places to lose it and end down a 1,000 foot drop.
Today I waved at two motorcyclists. The first one on an adventure like bike waved back. The second one on a Harley hog with tall handle bars didn’t. I thought to myself he might’ve had a death grip on those handlebars; afraid to let go of one hand to wave.
And no sooner than that I started encountering a graded part of the road. The grader was doing a long strip that only covered about 80% of the road. A berm was stacked up about two feet high down the right part of the road. I let a car go by without any incident but, later when I was in my element and riding standing up; I go being the thoughtful person that I am swerved over onto the berm and voila. The little Klondike caught a large rock and came to a dead stop and I continued on my way.
The old guy in the white van came over to assist me getting her back up. She was half buried in dirt. When we got her up the handlebars were askew. Since I couldn’t fix them I rode for 30 miles to Eagle on a very curvy road. It felt funny at first but then I got used to it.
THIS MORNING: We’re actually on the edge of the American wilderness, in a cabin known as the Devil’s lodge; and today we have something like 270 miles of motorcycle travel to go before arriving at Eagle, Alaska. And what better way to start the journey than with an Eagles song like;
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
You don’t have to go, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
You don’t have to go, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
You don’t have to go
Ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, ay
All those tears I cry, ay, ay, ay, ay
All those tears I cry, oh, oh, oh, ay
Baby, please don’t go
“When I read the letter you wrote me, it made me mad, mad, mad
When I read the words that it told me, it made me sad, sad, sad
But I still love you so, I can’t let you go
I love you, ooh, baby, I love you”
That is the wild and crazy side of me followed by the industrious and energetic parts like bringing you this daily ride blog.
Human’s today just don’t have many days as rich as this. According to Neil King in American Ramble, “we have the Somewhere people, who are very much of a place and rooted there, and then we have the Anywhere people, who have a faint sense of belonging wherever they are, and if they ever had a place, they left it behind a, long long time ago.”
We’re in a somewhere place now. The generations here now go back three. Will there be more generations here in say 100 years from now? No one knows but, what I know is that Emily, Zoe and brother are cooking our breakfast and enjoying themselves. Families who cook together, stay together.
This morning I found out a little history however, my recollections are not always as great as they used to be. An Athabastan father on the mother’s side who met her future husband in a bible study class in Texas.
Girl follows boy to Alaska and the rest as they say is history. On the father’s side is the industrious side of flying and hunting that taught countless other young men how to “guide “, giving them a livelihood in their Alaskan wilderness.
I first met him upon my arrival and misheard his name as Pineapple the chihuahua. However, this morning it turned out to be Pickles. Roberto and I have met many of his cousins in and around Mexico City. The problem our friend Lupe says is that when they get to America they start to feel privileged.
He must have something to hide from where he came from because every time I try to get a picture he turns his head sideways.
in 1846, the year when the whole of the West blew open, Alaska was far from being a state, the U.S. went to war with Mexico, the Mormons streamed toward Utah, and the Donner party froze in the Sierras. And fast forward to 2023, nine motorcycles left the Devils lodge and all made it to Eagle Alaska. Some a little more sore than the others and with a broken toe.
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
You don’t have to go, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
You don’t have to go, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
You don’t have to go
Ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, ay
End
Trawlercat Chronicles 