It feels fantastic to be heading down the road again, mosquitoes gone and I am anxious to see what is up ahead. The undulating road rolls out before me and my Electra Glide performs flawlessly rumbling down every mile of it. I am soon "out there" where basically nothing is. The smoke hides the mountains that should be on either side of me. Only rarely do I catch a glimpse.
The wind is picking up and becoming quite strong. I am glad I kept my "soft lowers" on my "crash bars" from earlier in the trip. These are essentially shields for my lower legs, providing shelter from wind and sometimes rain that would otherwise pummel and or soak me. You may not appreciate how physical it is to ride in the wind. In a strong wind like I am facing today, it feels like someone has literally been punching you all over. On the first day of the trip when we were coming up Turnagain Arm, we also had some really strong winds. I did not have my soft lowers on and the wind was so strong it popped all four snaps on my chaps and my cuffs were flailing wildly as I rode. By the time we got to Anchorage, I felt like I had gotten assaulted.
Fortunately, the wind is pretty much straight on and the bat wing fairing on my Electra Glide really helps me from getting pummeled. I am loving this bike. It has all kinds of storage, a fairing and that 80 cubic inch V-Twin motor keeps throbbing out plenty of power as I fly down the Richardson Highway.
I am heading toward Eureka. Eureka is a little more than an outpost with a gas pump. It is here because this is the high country that gets deeply blanketed with snow in the winter time and thousands of people come up here to ride their snowmobiles in the winter. They need fuel to keep those things running.
It is cooler and with the wind I am glad for my leather coat that keeps out the wind and me snugly warm. I pass long down sloping vistas of tundra as I ride the high ridge of the highway. It is lonely in a strange way as I motor along. I think it is somewhat a rush of nostalgia as many memories from my pre-teen years flood my thoughts. Many times I rode in our camper peering out form the cab over bunk window at these very sights. We had many great adventures as a family in that camper, some of the best memories of my life.
All of a sudden as if on cue to emphasize all the nostalgia, Gunsite Mountain emerges from the smoke. I was always fascinated by this mountain as a kid. It looks like the perfect rear sight of a rifle. It has peaks on both sides and a square notch in the exact center just like a rife sight. I power on past as the smoke once again envelopes the landscape.
A little building just off the road is visible up ahead. It must be Eureka. I look down at my gas guage. It has barely moved since Glennallen. I contemplate not stopping for gas but decide I better. Not having done this trip, I am uncertain of distances and knowing the pass up ahead is prone to bad weather I think I would hate to run out of gas at the worst possible moment which is when all those kinds of things happen.
I pull in and dismount. I put the gas nozzle in my tank and squeeze the handle. I am embarrassed. Even at $4.50 a gallon I can only put in $7.00 worth. Talk about a worry wort. I apologize to the man in the sparsely furnished room who takes the money. He doesn't care how much I buy or not and tells me to forget about it. I walk back outside into the howling wind. Just as I get ready to mount my bike, Chase and Greg come into sight. I wait to check in with them before I head out. They too fuel up and we shout at each other against the wind. We'll see each other in Anchorage before long.
I don my helmet and fire up the Glide. I am once again on the highway and heading up to the pass. Sheep Mountain is in front of me and the road becomes a little more steep and winding. I take my time not pushing the bike too hard. I soon break over the top and from here it is literally all down hill.
The ride here is amazing. Soon I am alongside the Susitna Glacier I would love to gawk as I ride, but the road is challenging with its many sharp curves and switchbacks. I have to keep focused on what is right in front of me. Many sections lack even guardrails and the idea of plunging down a thousand foot drop on my motorcycle keeps me concentrated on where I need to go. I haven't been on every road in Alaska, but I can't think of a more ideal section of highway for a biker than this. I am loving it.
The pass eventually gives way to what they call "the gorge" which is a very narrow section of road, hemmed in on both sides by steep mountain grades. It is very twisty and unfortunately for me, it bunches up the traffic. I am getting into more civilized country now and more cars on the road. I am five cars behind the lead car. I pick my opportunities carefully and pass them all one by one. I am lead dog now. I take the curves at my ease before I once again catch up to another slower moving bunch of cars. I try to just calm down and relax instead of pushing it. After riding a few hours with nothing to impede me, this feels so unfair.
I recognize I am nearing the community of Palmer. Getting behind all the slow moving traffic got me all keyed up and I have a cramp in my left shoulder. I decide I will fuel up and wait for Chase and Greg at an obvious place in Palmer before going on to the final destination for the day, Anchorage.
I take my jolly good time at the gas pump. I only burned half a tank from Eureka, not bad. I massage and knead my left shoulder a walk off my sore backside. It has been a great afternoon of riding and Tok seems like a week ago, not just this same afternoon. I eat a "protein bar" which is a guilt reducing name for a big fat chocolate candy bar. I drink some lukewarm water from a bottle stored in my trunk. I am thinking Chase and Greg should be showing up any moment just like always.
I wait with nothing to do. I power on my cell phone and catch up on email, texts and of course, Facebook. No truck. Did I look away and miss them as they went by? Are they stuck behind a lot of slow moving traffic? Hopefully there has been no wreck. I wait and wait some more.
Thinking I must have missed them, I prepare myself and get the Electra Glide back out on the road. Soon I am at the Wasilla turn off where we really began our trip around the loop just a couple of days ago. The trip down the Richardson Highway is uneventful as I pass Eklutna, Peter's Creek and Eagle River.
I pull into Anchorage and get to where we will staying the night. I am a little surprised that Chase and Greg are not there. I wait. I take off my leathers and stow them. I give my bottle of water to a homeless man who said he was so thirsty he was going to die. I wait. And wait. And wait. Something must have gone wrong. No answers to my texts and attempts to call.
Where are those guys?
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