Prudhoe Bay Trip - Day 1

I have been lazy and haven't been keeping this blog up for the past year. I will catch up on some of these older rides, and then keep up with what we are doing now. This ride took place in the summer of 2008.






The first day of our ride to Prudhoe Bay dawned cold and rainy. I had all my heated gear on and was wondering whether riding North in this kind of weather was really a good idea. I had visions of snow, ice, and misery, but since I'm not one to back down from an adventure, we were off.

Our first stop was at the store to pick up our satellite phone. We sincerely hoped we wouldn't need it, but we would rather be safe than sorry! I agreed to take pictures of us using the phone along the Dalton Highway (mockup photo's) for the company to potentially use in its advertising.

The rain continued until we got to Denali National Park. I was enjoying the ride, but the clouds and drizzle were beginning to get old. We stopped at one of the overlooks where on a nice day you can see Mt. McKinley, but on this day we could only see banks and layers of cloud.

Soon after crossing the pass however, it began to get warm. I turned down the electrics and was buzzing along without a care in the world. There are some pretty views in the area and I was enjoying all of them. Then I noticed a light come on. What the heck? Why would my ABS Brake light be on? I pulled over to the side of the road and waited for Bobby to catch up. "Do you think there is something wrong?" "What?" I turned off the bike and re-asked my question. He wasn't sure why the light would have come on either, but we figured we could ride into Fairbanks and check the bike there. I tried to restart the bike, and nothing happened. Not even a sound. "Uh, Bobby, My bike is dead." He tried to start it. Nothing. We tried to jump it. Nothing. We tried to bump start it. Nothing. My battery was as dead as it could get. (We figured out later that my aux lights and heated gear had completely drained it) So there we were 150 miles from Fairbanks in the middle of no where. My bike was dead, and was late afternoon. Bobby called the Harley dealership in Fairbanks and found out they would be open until 5:00. If he rode like a crazy man, he might make it before they closed. So, off went Bobby to get me a new battery. I spent the next several hours sitting on the side of the road watching all the people go by.

There were 11 dual sport bikes that passed me-a 40 something woman by myself, my bike on the center stand, seat on the ground, and not one of them stopped to help or even ask if I was ok. Then a state trooper pulled up and told me I needed to move my bike. Gee Thanks! I'll get right on that! Finally two guys on Harleys came by. They stopped and asked if I was ok and if there was anything they could do to help. Thanks guys. For anyone out there holding on to the motorcycle brand stereotypes, GET OVER IT! These guys were the only caring people who passed me in the VERY long time I sat there.

Finally Bobby came roaring back up the hill. We replaced the battery and were back on the road. We pulled into the campground along the Chena River later than we had hoped, but the midnight sun kept us warm and lit the evening so putting up our tent was a breeze. We had planned to cook on the Jet boil, but decided after the rocky start to our trip that maybe a restaurant dinner and a couple glasses of wine would be a better idea.

After a delicious meal we walked back to our tent, relaxed and visited with other campers for a while, then went off to bed.