Doing the Loop Part 3

We awake to a strange sky in the morning.  Ash has fallen and it is all over our bikes.  We smell smoke.  The Funny River fire smoke has changed directions and is drifting north.  It looks dark enough to rain, but it is just smoke.  

We pack up our bikes.  We decide on breakfast at the Windbreak Cafe in Wasilla.  I haven't been there in 25 years or more, but I remember the last time I was there I had a great breakfast.  

We warm up our bikes and head out of Anchorage.  The morning traffic is light on this Saturday and we get out of town quickly.  We stretch out on the Glenn Highway and make great time. We cross the Knik Flats.  Soon we turn on to the Parks Highway.  We are in Wasilla before we know it.  The Windbreak is still there...

We pull off the highway and take a seat at a table near the door.  We make an unintentional scene with all our leather riding gear and helmets in our hands.  The place hasn't changed a bit.  Large stuffed rainbow trout line the walls.  Fading color pictures of men with long sideburns and children holding large fish by the gills are hung in every booth.  Everything looks like it was decorated in the 70's.  I like it.  It feels familiar.  

We order omelets and hash browns, sourdough toast.  It comes out just the way you like to see it.  Good choice coming to the Windbreak.  I drink too much coffee.  We pay our bills and head back on to the highway.  

I haven't been through Wasilla in years.  The place is growing.  New roads, more traffic, lots of new shopping stores.  Hardly recognize what used to be the center of town.  It's moved closer to the Glenn Highway and the old strip malls just look, well, older.  Home Depot, Wal-Mart and other anchor stores have created a new "center".  

As we pull through the far end of Wasilla, I get the idea that maybe all that coffee I drank is beginning to become a need.  I think, nah.  We pass the Big Lake turn off.  The road ahead is just road, no more town or stores or gas stations.  The smoke overhead begins to clear.  Sun beats down on us.  It is warm and the sky is blue.  It is a wonderful day except that I have really got to "go."  

I realize since I am in the back, if I turn off to take of business Greg and Mark will just keep going.  How do I tell them about my situation?  I think, "we should have worked out some hand signals or something."  Things are getting to the urgent stage.  I've got to make a move here.  I race up to Greg on wing.  I think, how do I tell him I've got to go?  Since I can't let go of the throttle with my right hand, I pat my chest with my left hand.  He looks at me like, "what?!"  He's not getting it and the needle on the meter is leaving urgent and going towards "burst."  I do the same thing with Mark and he lets me take the lead.  I have no idea where I'm going to pull off but we are barreling down the road at 65 mph to wherever the next place is.  This goes on for about 10 minutes.  To my great relief, a gas station appears just ahead.  I turn in and walk straight to get rid of the coffee.  I am happy.

I get ribbed about my hand motions.  I think, "ya, just wait until it's you." We get back on the Parks Highway and just get up to speed when we pull over again.  We have reached Trapper Creek.  This is where they want to get gas.  Really?  Trapper Creek is bustling.  For being not much more than a gas station, everybody seems to want to stop here.  There is one set of pumps.  You can get gas on the right side or the left side.  Both sides are full with cars behind them.  The guy who is finished filling his truck puts the pump away and leaves his truck right there as he saunters into the little store.  On the other side, the guy puts up the pump as his wife gets out and lowers the tailgate on their SUV.  She begins to change her baby's diaper right on the spot.  The lines are lengthening.  The man who went inside is nowhere to be seen.  The lady is taking quite awhile to change the diaper.  We are all WAITING to put fuel in our tanks.  The man and wife seem to be having a discussion.  It seems to never occur to them that people are waiting for a turn at the pumps.  The man from the other side is still inside somewhere.

I don't need gas so I am just watching the most incredible case study of inconsiderate behavior ever I think.  What is really amazing is that no one seems to be upset.  All at once the man who I was going to report as a missing person appears, gets in his truck and drives away.  The discussion has ended on the other side of the gas pumps, the baby is bundled up and they do take another 5 minutes to put it in the baby seat and then they pull forward about 20 feet to let others use the pump.  Amazing.  I suppose this little vignette I am relating reveals more about me than others.  It is my sense of efficiency that is more offended than my lack of patience.  

We get back on the Parks Highway again after FOREVER.  It's OK as we don't have a timetable and the day is nice.  We should be able to see Mt. McKinley it is so nice, which is fairly rare.  The mountain is only visible from the road about 100 days a year.  We begin to enter Denali Park.  I notice that there really isn't any scenery.  The smoke from the Funny River fire has drifted against the mountains and it is all white.  At the south view pull off only the faint outline of a mountain is visible, it is impossible to tell if it is McKinley.  We power on.  The road is in pretty good condition, not too many road snakes, frost heaves or potholes.  It is a good day to ride.  

We gain elevation and it gets kind of chilly.  Spring is just beginning to arrive here.  There is still lots of snow and not all the lakes are thawed out yet, the rotting ice still covering most.  It looks a little desolate with no leaves on the willows.  I am wondering if I need to stop and add another layer or so.  We power on.

The high tundra landscape is beautiful even if we can only see little due to the smoke.  Hurricane Gulch is as breath taking as ever with its close up yawning chasm that makes one dizzy looking down into it.  We are getting close to our destination for the day, Denali Park.  We are going to be staying at the Grizzly Bear Campground.  The big V-Twin motors of our Harley Davidson motorcycles are putting out that sweet rumble that only Harleys put out.  It is great riding today.  

We come down a steep grade towards a silty river.  The flight lead has his left turn signal on.  We are here.  We pull in to the camp ground.  It looks like an interesting place, except I was ready to ride twice as far as this before we hung it up for the day.  We are here. 

The ride is done for now.  We are here to take part of a biker rally.  We wait outside the main office as Greg gets our room keys.  While we wait, a man in a wheel chair with only one leg bursts through the door at what might be considered high speed for a man with one leg in a wheel chair.  With incredible dexterity he twirls around backwards and down the wheelchair ramp only slowing slightly.  He has some use of his arms/hands and soon he disappears around the end of the building.  He is back almost immediately and powers up the ramp backwards as fast as he went down.  At the top he does the same twirl around except backwards, opens the door and goes in in a flash.  I am impressed.  He has obviously done this before.  Later I see him come out in identical fashion, get himself into a van, driving off to take a foreign client up to the park headquarters.  No handicap here.

Greg appears with our room keys and we ride up the hill to some very nice rooms.  We unload our stuff and look around.  The Black Sheep are cooking a whole pig in layers of coals for tonight's feast.  I snicker thinking how appropriate it is to feed a whole pig to a HOG group.  It does give off an aroma that makes me instantly hungry.  We satisfy ourselves with some chips and cookies and pay our $20 for the dinner that will be served later.  

They don't need any help getting ready so we look for something to do.  A ride up to the main Denali area sounds great.  I think to myself I have always wanted to ride up to a place where I am anonymous with no helmet and sporting a "do-rag".  I happen to have one with me from the Harley themed birthday party with suspicious looking root beer bottles my wife threw for me a month ago.  

I don it with my shades and feel ridiculous, but hey, who's going to know?  

We start the bikes and power on to the highway.  It feels crazy to ride with no helmet and the wind pummeling my head as we race up to the park.  Ha ha!  I am a true biker now!  Well I will be after I get a HD tatoo or something.  I just can't decide where it would go.  For now I'll just be a poser.

I feel entertained by myself as we arrive at the park.  It is busy for this early in the season.  We spot the Harley apparel store.  They have spaces reserved in front for only Harleys.  We take our rightful spots.  I still feel ridiculous so I pull the do-rag off and don a conservative cap instead.  

We visit the Harley apparel store.  It is run by a really nice Louisiana woman with a cajan drawl.  I buy an overpriced Harley long sleeve t-shirt.  Probably the only chance to get one from Mt. McKinley.  Who could resist?

I step outside with my riding friends and we walk up and down the board walk.  We get a coffee.  The guy behind the counter making our selections is from Alabama but up for the summer to make some money he tells us.  I think this is a prompt for a good tip.  We are the last people to be served so he follows us outside and we continue our conversation.  I try only partially successfully to turn the conversation to what he thinks of Jesus.  Other customers show up, he ducks inside to take care of them.

While enjoying sitting outside sipping the hot brew a fellow Assembly of God minister walks by with his wife.  He is the one I prayed over as he was ordained just a month ago.  I am SO GLAD I am not wearing my do-rag as I probably look rather rouge-ish with my leathers on anyway.  He would probably want a do-over with someone else on the ordination prayer if he saw me in a do-rag.  Alaska is a small place.

For now we have exhausted the possibilities here.  We mount our bikes and I don my helmet which I stashed in the trunk of my Electra Glide and with the appropriate revs and thundering exhaust we head back to the camp.