Continental Divide to Home

Leaving the Continental Divide Motel, I let the big bike stretch its legs.  I rode many miles that day through beautiful country with good weather and light traffic.  I stopped in Whitehorse for gas, and per usual, the traffic was heavy and congested down by the river, and patience was needed.  But once out of the valley and up on the bluff, the miles flew by.  I stopped in Beaver Creek for a meal and gas, enjoying the quirks and oddities of the service industries this far North and West.  The people are lovely, but their infrastructure is always utilitarian, or make-do, or both.  Mostly both.  Turning a handle or a faucet does not always bring what you expect from your experiences in civilization.  But the food and service are good, notwithstanding the curmudgeonly signs warning of stern consequences if you break the posted rule.  And of course I abided by the rules.  Most of them.

The road between the Canadian border post and the U.S. border post was the worst section of roadway I have seen since 1979.  It was totally torn up, there were no well graded sections. It was all rock, gravel, dirt and mud.  Twenty miles or so of moonscape.  So up on the pegs I went, and rode on through.  I must admit to smiling a few times.

I rode all the way to Tok that day, a total of 571 miles in one day, the farthest daily ride of the trip.  I stayed at the Westmark after trying a few other places, because the Westmark is overpriced for what it offers.  I got to stay in the "pet" building, which meant I was able to pet a number of dogs, all of which were cute and friendly.

In the morning, I also met a fellow a little younger than me, who was riding two-up with a teenage daughter on a Suzuki 650, next to which I had parked the night before.  They were from Vancouver, B.C., and were riding to Anchorage where they would meet the rest of the family.  The daughter was about 14, I guess, and she came out, silently, with all her riding gear.  It was black leather, of course, with chains and other bright metal bits here and there, tall black leather boots with platform soles, and a bright pink neck scarf.  When she put her black helmet on, she looked as though she had come straight from the title role in "The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo."  She was cute beyond words.  They were very sweet and nice, and rode off before me.

I gassed up and headed home.  The Tok cut-off was uneventful, and as beautiful as always, with just a few moose here and there.  I rode into Glenallen to have lunch with my friends, the Von Thaer family: Jack and Joy, their lovely and very smart daughters Victoria and Anna, and also met Joy's mother Gayanne (a faithful reader of this blog and the motivator to get it finished this year).  The Von Thaer family fixed me lunch, and we chatted for a bit, and then I headed home for the last, last stretch.

Glenallen was getting the road into town upgraded, and it was a bit of work to get through it all.  The pilot car (truck) was guiding us past heavy equipment just a few feet away.  It is somewhat unsettling to be driving along even at 35 mph on loose gravel with cars/trucks in front of you and behind you with earth scrapers roaring by an arms' length away.  If you slip and go down, there is nowhere for you to go, nor anywhere for the following traffic to go.  So I tightened all my sphincters and carried on.

As I traveled along the Glenn, drawing closer to home, of course I became a little pensive.  I had been a pretty far piece, and had some great times, seen some great friends, visited places old and new.  But I was still enjoying riding this magnificent machine.  It had an oil leak and was dirty, but it was just a monster that was great fun to ride.  I was going to miss being on it everyday.

I pulled into the driveway at home with 10,282 miles on the odometer.  I had ridden 9,521 miles over the past six weeks.  When I weighed my gear, I found that I arrived at home with 160 pounds of gear on the bike including the weight of the luggage and two liters of water.  That is still more than I want to carry, as you will see if you stick around for next years' adventure.  But I made it home safe.  Scout was happy to see me, as I was happy to see her.  Meredith too!

So this ride ended and the planning began for the next one: the TSA Tour.  Thrills, Spills, Adventures!  Read about it here, in the coming year.