Doing the Loop Part 2

We throttle our bikes onto the Sterling Highway.  There is a little adrenaline flowing in my veins.  It feels exhilarating to finally be underway.  I am putting the smoke out of my thoughts.  We don't get very far.  We stop at...the Harley Store.  30 minutes of looking a stuff I just looked at and whatever errand that needed to be done is finished.  Now...we are really on our way.

Once again we throttle out on to the Sterling Highway.  It is Memorial Day weekend and there is a fair amount of traffic.  All motorcycle riders ride on "high alert", especially at times of increased traffic.  One technique that a group of riders use to be see easier by other vehicles is the formation in which they ride.  

The "flight lead" rides on the left side of the lane, near the center line.  He tries to stay in the rear view mirror of the driver in front of him.  This way he can scout further up ahead for slow downs, road debris, turning vehicles and other surprises.  The "wing man" rides on the right side of the lane and tries to stay in the rear view mirror of the car in front of the flight lead.  This also gives him an "out" if he needs to avoid a collision or road debris by turning on to the shoulder of the road.  This formation is basically repeated the more riders you have, it is just staggered left and right for as many as are in the group.  We have three so I am "tail end Charlie".  I tend to ride the center line but wander back and forth from left to right and back somewhat in order to be in again, the vehicle in front of us' rear view mirror.  

All goes smoothly and we pass through Sterling and head up toward Cooper Landing.  Once we are up off the Sterling flats, we enjoy curves in the road and the beautiful scenery, the leaves are fully out in late spring.  Except that we have to stop.  They are fixing the road.  It is true, there are two seasons in Alaska, winter and road construction.  It really does need fixing in this area, for some reason the road really gets hammered in this area.  This year's beautiful new smooth blacktop will be next year's crumbling and cracked, pothole filled, "road snake infested" mine field.  There is so much more that a motorcycle rider must pay attention to when he rides.  "Road snakes" are those long, wide, running cracks in the asphalt that can swallow a biker's front tire and dump him on the road.  Alaska has a lot of "road snakes".

We pass through the Russian River area and on through Cooper Landing.  As we make our way down the winding road next to Kenai Lake and just prior to Sunrise, I am anticipating getting back on the wide open road and listening to my Electra Glide's 80 cubic inches rumble.  Except that our wing man needs to stop at Sunrise for gas.  

He has the smallest gas tank at 3.5 gallons.  He also has the highest performance motor of the group.  This translates into a lot of stops for gas. My slow boat Electra Glide has a big tank and can easily make it from Kenai to Anchorage without problem.  We are informed that we will be stopping at the Girdwood gas station as well.

The tank is filled and once again we are off.  Now the road is really good through the "Pass" portion of the Sterling Highway.  The mountains rise up all around, there are passing lanes and curves.  It's pretty much everything a rider could want.  The sun is shining, the motor of my Electra Glide has found a "sweet spot" and throbs with reassuring regularity that all is well in the crankcase.  

Honestly, I have anxiety about being "the weak link" in the group.  My 1992 is by far the oldest bike, it even has a carburetor, a real dinosaur.  I do not want to be the liability, the guy whose ancient equipment holds everyone else up and becomes burdensome.  That guy.  

It takes about forty minutes of unhurried riding until we begin the long descent down Turnagain Pass on the Turnagain side.  I can throttle back, the bike loves this miles long downhill stretch.  It lives up to its name and feels like I am truly gliding down the highway.  We get to the Turnagain flats and again feel all the feelings of why people ride these bikes.  The sights are more intimate, you are in them, not just observing through a windshield.  The smells of wild flowers (probably dandelions) and the waters make it feel like the world is coming alive again after the winter months.  It is everything I have anticipated.  I love it.

We pull into Girdwood station.  It is a mob house!  Giant pick up trucks with trailers overflowing with Rangers, Razors, four wheelers, campers, trailers, canoes, outboard motor boats, tents, every sort of thing that burns fossil fuel, you name it, it is there.  I still don't need gas so I pull over to the side to avoid the cacophony.  

I enter the store to use the restrooms.  I feel like a hulking giant clad in my riding leather coat and chaps.  People scurry to get out of my way, I smile hoping I don't look like a malevolent presence.  The place is crowded.  The clerks are harried.  People in shorts and flip flops wait in line with handfuls of ice cream bars, hot dogs and beverages.  It is noisy and bustling with activity. We Americans love our Memorial Day weekends!  

Not soon enough, we are on our way up Turnagain Arm.  The "twisties", are dry and clean.  We lean into the curves, hoping to observing motorists behind us that we look like we are scraping the road.  Crowds are out looking a belugas, there are crowds of "hooligan" dipnetters, there are rock climbers rappelling down the rock faces.  The sun is reflecting warmth off the mountains and we are loving life.  

We enter Anchorage and the traffic which hasn't been too bad to this point. We decide to go and dump our stuff off at our place for the night.  We join the stop and go traffic.  Clutch in, clutch out.  Shift up, shift down.  Start, stop.  I don't like being in the Anchorage traffic, it isn't what you call riding. I does mimic the day in a symbolic way. 

We get to our destination.  After waiting around for awhile, we are let into the place where we are staying for the night.  Free.  Free is good.  We unpack our bikes.  In contrast they look smaller and lighter, which they are.    

We are hungry.  Where shall we go?  The usual process of deciding where to eat in traveling groups plays out.  Shall we go here?  Shall we go there?  I love to go to this place.  I always eat there when I go to Anchorage.  The lottery stops on Olive Garden.  We have lightened our bikes considerably and the traffic has died down a little bit.  Olive Garden in north of our location on the other side of the Glenn Highway from Muldoon.  We start our bikes.  We leave in formation and head out.  

We indulge ourselves with the unending salad and bread sticks.  The main course arrives and we are almost too full to eat it but we manage anyway.  While we are eating, the idea of checking out the new Cabelas store pops up.  We decide that is the thing to do.  We pay our bills, I do with my credit card.  We helmet up and leave for south Anchorage and the new Cabelas.

We stay until closing which is about 9 o'clock.  We are feeling played out and still too full.  We decide to go back and hit the hay for the evening.  Once we are near, we stop for fuel so we can hit the road without any more stops in the morning.  I dismount and reach for my wallet.  I open it and realize my credit card is not there.  I must have left it at Olive Garden when I paid my bill.  

I race to the other end of town with thoughts of my credit card being sold to some cyber thief and my future ruined.  I am hoping Olive Garden is still open late on this Friday Memorial Day weekend.  I arrive trying not to look too paniced.  I explain myself to the nice hostess girls at the front as I stand there in my riding leathers head to toe.  The notify the manager.  I wait.

The nice man appears after 5 minutes of long waiting with my card in his hand.  I identify myself and it is placed in my wallet once again.  I decide I have had enough drama for the day and once I am finally fueled up, I head in for the night, looking forward to the ride ahead.