Tom Serine's Motorcycle Trip to Alaska . Part 2

I got out of bed around 8:00 after a very nice sleep. I wasn’t able to get any breakfast since I overslept. Everybody else had gone to work at 6 am. I took it easy and packed before heading to the Caribou and paying my 38 bucks to see the Arctic Ocean. The guy that headed the tour was semi-retired. He had been working at the Arctic Caribou Inn for awhile and was pretty much going through the routine. I was the only single man there. The rest of the tourists were couples that had driven up in RVs. The first part was an indoctrination into the history of Deadhorse and what goes on there, work hours, what the job entails, etc... Then we watched a video (not a DVD) of Deadhorse and the building of the pipeline. I felt like I was in high school again. After that exciting film, we proceeded to the tour van and then went to the Arctic Ocean. We had to pass a security checkpoint to continue on our way to the Arctic Ocean. The weather was windy and in the low 40s as we proceeded to the Arctic Ocean. It looked more like a delta at low tide because there weren’t any waves that you would normally see in an ocean. I had to walk out about 10 yards to fill up my water bottle to send back home. I also filled up some of the other peoples' because they didn’t want to get wet. I had on my boots with a water sock over my socks. I took some photos and picked up a few rocks for the trip back.

Supposedly, you are allowed to jump into the ocean to be part of the Polar Bear Club, however, that was not going to happen because a polar bear had been cited around the area. I just think the guy didn’t want to deal with us loading back into his van dripping wet. I could tell the guide just didn’t care about being there since I asked one question and I got the, “I pointed that out earlier.” I didn’t see any wildlife along the ride. Our group made it back in about an hour to the Inn. Other than seeing the Arctic Ocean, that was 38 bucks I wouldn’t get back and two hours I could have been on the road. Unfortunately, this is the only way to see the Arctic so unless they find another way, your experience will be as exciting as mine.

Once we got back, I folded up my bike cover. Took out my winter gloves and put on my face mask as well as my hand warmers, started my bike up and proceeded back south. It was a little after noon, but it was still cold and raining a little, plus it was windy. The first 50 miles were very slow (much like the last 50 coming to Deadhorse). Also similar to when I was arriving, the wind subsided and the sun came out after those 50 miles. I hit the brief pavement for 10 miles or so then it was back on the gravel and dirt. The weather was again cooperating, and I was able to slow down in a couple of areas to look at some cariboo and musk ox. I traveled about 150 miles and refueled. I felt very confident that if I could make it over the Atigun Pass, I would be home free. I took it slow again and made it through with the clouds looming.

By the time I got to the other side of the mountain, the weather had turn to rain. I was relieved to see trees and the road was packed with good dirt that I was able to go almost 60 mph (the speed limit is 50). It didn’t last long since it was starting to get slick, so I slowed down to 50 mph and got into Coldfoot about 6 pm. It took 30 minutes less coming back (I actually thought I drove slower). I wanted one of those burgers real bad at the Trucker’s Café, but they didn’t serve those until 9:00. It was actually pretty busy with tours coming through and I decided I was going to camp right there in the parking lot, which you are allowed to do. I got a good bar seat and decided to have some beer. In the time I was there, I was able to talk to some tourists and other people that worked there. I was really starting to like Coldfoot.

Around 9 at night, I met a couple from Denver who were camped over at the river about a half mile I away. They invited me to ride with them and some of the other people that worked there to drink beer and have a fire. These are two things I enjoy immensely so I took them on their offer. I unpacked my bags and tent from my bike and loaded it in there truck. We took off to the river bank and started a fire as I put up my tent. We were eventually joined by another two dozen people. I enjoyed talking to everyone. Most were from the Northwest but I met one girl from Raleigh. Small world hunh? Before I knew it, it was 3am. Everybody had left so I crawled into my tent and tried to write in my journal. I’m a pretty sloppy writer but even I could not read it. One thing I did feel is that I had become one with Alaska, if that makes any sense.

I didn’t wake up till around 10, so I didn’t hit the road until about 11:00. This was after waking up, putting up the tent and then riding back to my bike. It was the same as when I left it, very dirty and tired. I think having a cover over it helps to some degree. I knew the bike was feeling and looking bad. I could tell it was running rough and the rear brake was very weak. I just needed to make it back to Palmer, then I could spend Friday working on it in a garage.
The day was turning out to be sunny and in the high 50s. I made it through the rough pavement area past the Arctic Circle. I was delayed twice due to trucks hauling loads that were 21 feet wide. I had to pull to the side of the road. How these guys drove something so huge on that road through the Atigun Pass is amazing.

After refueling at Yukon, I knew that the worse was almost over. I made it through the last part and as I got back on the road from the Dalton Highway, I let out a big loud yell. I was very proud, but knew I was still a long way from completing my journey and anything could happen. I refilled the tires at the Hilltop Café just North of Fairbanks. The rest of the trip went pretty well. I hit a good rainstorm for about 10 miles around Healy. It also hailed for a minute. It was the first time I hit hail since I went through Colorado back in 2005, and just like then, there was no place around to take shelter. Luckily the hail stopped almost immediately. The sun was out the rest of the way, and I was making good time. That was until I was caught in Wasilla with construction traffic around 10 at night. I always hate it when I hit traffic so close to my destination. After making it through that delay, I reached Palmer at about 11:00. I was surprised to make it back so soon. I thought it would take three days to make it up and back. Having this extra day gave me a three day weekend to clean the bike up and maybe check out some more areas of Alaska.

I awoke Friday morning and proceeded to do some work. I changed the bike’s oil and filter, checked the air pressure, changed the spark plugs, tightened the back brake, and tightened the chain. I also gave it a really good wash to try and get rid of all of the mud and dirt I had collected so far on the trip. I gave it a quick ride around the neighborhood. It sounded fine although I could still tell that the back brake wasn’t doing to well in stopping. The tires still had good tread on them. I spent the rest of my day putting a package together and mailing it back to NC. I ended up giving my 5 gallon spare tank to the friend I was staying with. I then went to Walmart and bought a few supplies for my trip back on Monday.

I awoke planning to head down to Homer to see the area down there. It started out as a nice day and I was able to check out the city of Anchorage before continuing south. It was on the other side that I began to notice some problems with how the bike was handling. I could tell it was slipping when I accelerated before it finally kicked in. I went about another 100 miles and decided it would be best to just turn around and head back to Palmer. I made it back and called one of the local dealers who said it sounded like the clutch plates where starting to slip. They said I could bring it in and go from there. The problem was I was leaving Monday and most places are closed on Sundays and Mondays. Plus, there was a good chance this would have to be ordered, and there was no telling what the cost would be. The problem didn’t seem too bad, so I decided to pass it up and take my chances. I spent the 17th of August packing and relaxing, getting ready to head back. I made a promise to myself that the next time I head back to Alaska, I would check out the southern areas of the state. From this point, I had about 4,600 miles to go.

Sometimes, I wish I just traveled every day with no break, because after relaxing for a couple of days it can be difficult to get back into the swing of riding again. This was especially the case this day because I was heading back on a road I’d already been on (even though it is very beautiful), the bike was starting to sound tired (as I mentioned earlier), and the weather was chilly. There was construction I knew I would hit about 50 miles north of Palmer and the 100 miles before the Alaskan border into Canada. I left about 9 am. The day was sunny at times but also cloudy, and I found myself shivering the entire morning. I made it through the first traffic outside of Palmer (after waiting about 20 minutes). I refilled in Glen Allen and by the time I made it to Tok, it was starting to rain. During the next 50 miles I traveled through three different construction sites, all a pain to get through because of the waiting and slow moving traffic. Luckily, the rain had subsided then and it wasn’t too muddy to drive through. I can honestly say my motivation coming out of Alaska wasn’t near as exciting as going to Alaska. However, I did have the privilege of spotting two different sets of rainbows and two moose, anything to make the ride more interesting.

The border crossing went by with no problem and I wasn’t held for any further questioning. The plan was to stay in Burwash Landing which was about 100 miles past Beaver Creek. The weather cleared and it was sunny again by the time I made it to Burwash Landing around 7:00. There isn’t much there but a campground and a motel with a restaurant. You can camp for free and after inhaling a burger and a couple of beers, I found a nice open space and set-up my tent. There was firewood available, so I was able to make a good fire as I worked over the bike. The chain was coming loose again and needed to be tightened. I realized that the chain would be loosening the entire way (much like last year). Even with a better sprocket, it was still wearing out after 6,000 or so miles. My sissy bar had also lost a couple of screws (it was never installed right) but I had a couple and eventually was able to put some new screws in there with the little tools I had. I have to get a better tool set for the next trip I take. I spent into the evening sitting on the picnic table with my back to the fire, watching the Olympics on the CBC (the only channel I had) and writing in my journal. Although the day started to be a pain, the evening was great and it reminded me why I do this.

I had planned to head back to Seattle by riding the Alcan to Dawson Creek and taking 97 down to Prince George. However, I had done some research and seen that I could save a good 150 miles by heading on the Cassier Highway. The problems were that there weren’t that many fuel stations and I heard by talking to others that the road was rough.
While in Alaska, I planned the trip on The Milepost and was able to see that there were about 130 miles or so between the gas stations along that route. I was confident I had enough gas for that part. I also discovered that the road wasn’t as bad as I had been lead to believe. There were parts that were dirt, but it wasn’t dirt the whole way. If I could drive 240 miles on dirt, I could make it through this okay.

The day started fine. It was another chilly day combined with sporadic rain. The plan was to get on the Cassier and go to Dease Lake. I was making good time and I found it interesting to stop and get fuel in the same places I had gotten it on the way to Alaska. I got on the Cassier and was immediately warned with a sign to check fuel, because the next gas station was 140 miles away. The road was rough and then paved with no lines and it would turn to dirt. The rain was coming down harder and steady the entire way, and I was getting cold and tired. Plus, I had gotten behind a tractor trailer that I could not get around with about 50 miles or so to go, making the trip even slower. I just wanted to get to Dease Lake, get a beer and a burger and maybe a motel. The last 50 miles, I found myself constantly looking at my GPS watching the milage countdown. In actuality, this made my trip seem to take longer.

I finally made it to Dease Lake about 8:00. I refueled at the only gas station, went to a nice restaurant with all of my bike gear on. The waitress was nice enough to seat me away from everybody else. Luckily they weren’t that busy. After refueling my body it was close to 9:00 and I needed to find a place to stay. The two motels there were full and the RV park I went to only took RV’s and no tents. The owner, although not very friendly, did tell me of a campsite another 10 kilometers down the road. It looked like I was going to be camping again. The campsite was along a river and it cost 10 Canadian dollars. While there, I met three young guys, two from Australia, one from Ireland, that were nice enough to let me hang out with them, share some beer, and even loan me their head lamp, in order to tighten the chain on my bike. These guys were driving from Quebec to Alaska a Volkswagen van and they asked me a lot about my trip and what it was like in Alaska. I ended up staying up with them until about 11:00 by the fire before calling it a night. Although the ride ended very exhausting, it was worthwhile, and I’m glad I camped that night.

After yesterday’s tiresome trip. I was looking forward to hopefully something easier. I actually awoke at 7:00 and was able to get out on the road a little after 8:00. The weather was cloudy, so I already had the rain pants on when I left. There were some more rough roads with dirt and construction for about 20 miles but that gradually disappeared. By the time I made it to Bell II for gas, the road was much improved. However, the weather started turning and the rain started coming down. It stayed that way for a long time.
The road turned into a nice paved lined road and I was recalling how this was the nicest road I had been on for a long time. Unfortunately, the weather wasn’t cooperating and I found myself shivering from the constant rain. By the time I had gotten to Gitanyow, the bike ran out of gas after about 130 miles. I switched over the reserve and it ran out of gas after only 8 miles. That I felt was extremely odd. I pulled over and used my extra gas to refuel on the side of the road. I made it about the next 10 miles or so to Kitmanga, but the bike was still sputtering like it wasn’t getting fuel. After refueling and heading back on the road, the bike was still sputtering. I thought that the bike had finally given up, and I was telling myself that if it were to break down right here, I was going to be in trouble. After another mile or so, the bike returned to normal and I was able to get back speed. The rain returned and it stayed with me for the next 200 miles. The good thing was that I was off the Cassier and on Highway 16 which is a major road going through good size Canadian towns. If I ran into any trouble, I at least had some options.

The plan was to make it to Prince George by the end of the day. I was already convinced that I would be getting a motel. The weather finally cleared for a little and I felt I was home free for the last 120 miles. However, I saw the clouds coming and to my disbelief, it rained the rest of the way. I found myself looking at my GPS every 2 miles wondering how much further I had to go. Even though I wasn't trying to. It was very long and I was the most miserable I had been the entire trip. My heated hand grips were doing nothing. I had no more hand warmers and my hands and feet were wet and numb. The rain had eventually gotten through to my feet, lower legs, hands, and around my neck area.
I kept on going and found myself in Prince George not in the best shape. It’s hard to shift and break when your feet or hands are numb. I saw a sign for the Bon Voyage Hotel and that’s where I headed. It was 85 bucks. I had to have the lady at the counter complete my form because I was shaking so bad from the cold. As soon as I got into my room, I got into the shower and stayed there for a half hour. Once I had regained feeling in my body I went across the street to a convenience store and got a Mountain Dew, a bag of chips, and two sandwiches. I went back to relax awhile and watch the Olympics. This was the worse day I had traveled. I hoped to make it to Seattle tomorrow, but if the weather was like this, it would be very long and not fun.

I remember waking up at 2:00 in the morning. I didn’t sleep well and noticed that it was still raining out. I was feeling like it was going to be a long day. I watched the weather on a channel out of Spokane, WA and learned that the rain would be clearing as the day went by. I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t in any of it.
I awoke to cloudy skies but no rain. I had set the alarm for 6:00 but didn’t get up until 7:30. I was able to leave about 8:30. My pants were still damp and my leather jacket was the same. I left with cloudy skies but as the day went on, it was starting to clear, and the ride became very nice. I always enjoy riding along rivers, when you add a couple of 100 feet above the river it is even nicer, and when you add a railroad track on the other side, it’s the best. That is what my trip was like once I got on Highway One traveling from Cache Creek to Hope.
If I wasn’t so worried about the bike, I think the ride would have been even better. The front brake was getting weak, the rear brake wasn’t much, the clutch was still slipping and I could hear the chain rattling anytime I slowed below 30mph. I was starting to actually look forward to the interstate since I would be going fast enough I wouldn’t hear all the noise.

After refueling in Hope, I got on the Trans Canadian Highway for another 80 miles or so. It’s about the closest thing to an Interstate I had been on in a couple of weeks. From there, I took the exit for the border at Abbotsford. I remember a sign saying “US Border Open from 9am to 5 pm.” I looked at my watch and saw that it was a few minutes after 5:00. I started cursing and thinking that it looked like I would be staying in Canada another night. My destination of Seattle was another 100 miles or so away. It turned out that this sign was only for the smaller exits, but not the crossing I was going to.
After waiting in line for a good 30 minutes, I was able to cross the border with no hold-ups. It was a very surreal feeling to be back into the mainland US. I was amazed I had made it this far. The next 30 miles were back country roads. Again, I almost felt like I was in North Carolina until I saw the exit for Seattle. I stopped and refueled and made some calls letting people know I was back in the US. I got on interstate 5 and throttled the bike to 70mph. I made it with no problems and I felt as long as I maintained a fast speed, I wouldn't hear the problems with the bike.

The plan was to head south through Seattle and get to Des Moines, Washington (25 miles south of Seattle) where I would stay with a friend. Knowing I had a place to stay for the weekend, I was feeling good about relaxing and seeing the city. Something I really didn’t get to do the year before when I stayed there. I don’t mind driving through major cities. I’ve been through many on my trips. This year I was getting to see more of Seattle than I did last year. I got to drive right through Seattle and it is a beautiful city to drive through. You really get a good look from Highway 5.
I took the exit for Des Moines. I traveled the distance to my friends, parked unpacked, and ordered a pizza. I had a couple of days to relax before heading on the road and I was looking forward to it.

August 22, 23, 2008

I spent the next two days calling my mechanic in NC to see if there was any additional work that I needed to do to the bike in order to make it back home. I was relieved when they told me that I should be okay since I was on the interstate the rest of the way. I would just continue to tighten the chain since it was a source of some of the sound the bike was making. I made some adjustments and left the bike parked for the rest of my stay there. I spent the weekend making some other phone calls to friends and relatives and was able to check out downtown Seattle, visiting the Wharf Area and Space Needle. The last night of my visit we watched the Olympics and stayed up late Saturday night into Sunday morning watching the USA basketball team win the Gold Medal.

It is very hard to awake after staying up until 2am the night before. The weather was sunny and I found myself making it to highway 90 with no problem. Last year, I took this interstate all the way into Montana. This year, I was heading towards Idaho.
I stopped and got gas after about a 100 miles. I ended up being at the same gas station as last year. Which I hated because once I was stopped, I remembered there was no exit to continue east. I had to do what I did last year and go west, then take the next exit. This turned out to be an adventure itself. As I approached the exit there was a lady driving slower in front of me so I couldn’t really pick up speed to merge with the coming cars. Eventually I was able to get on there, however, some guy in an older Buick was upset that I apparently cut him off. So much for friendly drivers, he drove by and proceeded to give me the finger as well as the lady in front of me. I'm usually just mind my own business when I'm riding my bike or driving my car but I didn't think this person's actions were necessary. I speed up and verbally indicated my offense in colorful language about some things he could do to himself and his mother. He gave me the finger again and I took the next exit as was planed to continue my route. Hindsight being 20/20 I wonder if I should have motioned the guy to follow me to the exit, but if he had really wanted to start something, he would have followed me to it anyway. Regardless, the incident was over with and I was able to get back on the interstate in the east direction. Amazing how one wrong turn can be a potential disaster.

I also saw a lady in front of me throw a can out of her window. I’m not an environmentalist but stuff like that really annoys me. You can’t keep that in your car? I have a freaking bike and I don’t throw my empty drinks on the road. Well, it looked like this was going to be an exciting day after all.
I ended up riding in part of Oregon on Interstate 82 and then proceeded on into Idaho. Boise was a nice city to ride through. The day was starting to get late and I was trying to make it to Twin Falls to a KOA in that area. My last excitement of the day was looking for a gas station. Even though I have the GPS, it sometimes doesn’t recognize all of them. So I took one of those exits where the gas station was 10 miles off the road. That wasn’t going to work. So I turned around, again, the “No exit East” came to haunt me. This time, I wasn’t going back because I knew the exit west wasn’t for another 10 miles. There were no cars on the interstate, remember I am in Idaho. So I drove back up the exit, took a right, and continued on the interstate. There were times like this that I was expecting a state trooper to be right there watching me. As the sun started to set I knew that I was over camping about 1500 miles ago. I found a Motel 6 with a room available for the night. It was a long but adventurous day. As I sat in my motel, I couldn’t believe that I was only 3 days away from completing my journey. I spent the evening talking to other bikers that were passing through. All were very friendly and it was good to share the experiences of our journeys. Tomorrow, I was headed back to Denver. After this, there would be no roads I had not previously taken.

After sleeping in once again, I started to wonder why I even bothered to set the alarm for 6am. The weather looked like another great day, and I was looking forward to getting on the highway and heading to my friend in Denver. I took I84 onto I15 South and rode through Ogden, Utah. I then got on I80 and headed into Wyoming. The ride across Wyoming did have a good crosswind and I found myself fighting gusts for several 100 miles. There were a few times that I was riding and the bike would suddenly jerk to the left or right.

The vastness of Wyoming is something to behold. I think what makes it different than other states is the rolling hills and mountains you see. The bike was running fine making the same racket I always heard when I slowed down. I felt if it doesn’t do anymore than this I can make it. I was actually becoming a little optimistic. I made it to Laramie and that’s when the weather got colder and cloudier. I could see lightning bolts as I headed toward the mountain range. I wasn’t too concerned about it but sometimes you just don’t feel like pulling over and putting on your gear. I also knew I was about 200 miles away from Denver. I had not been to Laramie since Labor Day weekend of 2004 when App State played Wyoming University. That trip was an adventure in itself because it was the first long trip I had taken with the bike (I took one bag and a tent) and it was also the first time I had ridden in really bad weather at a time I didn’t have a windshield and the only rain gear I had was my leather jacket. Plus App was down 56-0 at halftime. You learn from experience. This time, I didn’t get rained on and I was able to make it through just fine. Right on the other side of the city is a major windy mountain climb on the interstate and I found myself having the bike at full throttle just to keep it at 60. I got to the top and refuled for the last time. I also put on my rain gear just in case. Even though I was hitting post rush hour traffic from about Fort Collins on, it was nothing major and I got there about 7pm. I was glad to make it since I could relax with my friend and get ready for tomorrow.

I finally awoke early around 530. I said goodbye to my friend and I took off about 630. The weather was sunny and beautiful. I had a long day ahead of me. The ultimate plan was to basically drive as far East as I could. Ideally, I wanted to make it to the other side of St Louis and stay in Mount Vernon, Il. However this was 953 miles and it would mostly likely take about 15 or 16 hours. It started out slow. For one thing, it was morning rush hour and the other reason being that the democratic national convention was going on. So I hit some traffic on I 70 through the city. Once I got through this, I was good to go and started on that long 500 mile trip from Denver to Topeka. I knew after this part, I would be feeling pretty good. First 100 miles I stopped and refueled. After the 200th mile I stopped and refueled again, however, after I refueled. The bike sputtered a little bit and then ran okay. It was around the end of my 100th mile that the bike was starting to sputter again. Which was no big deal since I was in a strong headwind and had the bike throttled pretty good. It’s happened before. I was about 14 miles from Wakeeney, KS so I just switched it to reserve. However, the reserve didn’t take. What the hell? So I proceeded to slowly drift to the edge of the interstate and take off my extra fuel and put in the two gallons I had. Did that, got back on and....nothing. Bike wouldn’t turnover. It was that time I knew I was screwed. So, after proceeding to yell a couple of F bombs at the top of my lungs on an interstate in west Kansas, I explored my options. My cell phone and AMA membership finally came in handy. I first called my mechanic back home just in case the new of something I could possibly do. They said that more than likely, there was water in the gas tank but I would have to remove the tank and I really didn’t have the tools. I called AMA and there was a Kawasaki dealership in Wakeeney.

After waiting about an hour, the flatbed came to pick my bike up and take me to the shop. It appeared I was going to be in Kansas for awhile. But hey, it was a beautiful day and even though I was still 1300 miles from home, I was still optimistic. Getting the bike on the flatbed was an adventure in itself. The driver couldn't hook a cable to the bike becuase it might have messed up the frame. He had to lower the ramp then he and I pushed the bike up as high as we could. Which wasn’t far and the back tire was only a couple of inches from the edge. I then had to hold the front brake and get back on the bike while he went back and raised it. Keep in mind that the front brake was really weak and I could just see the bike falling off and myself hitting the ground with the it landing on top of me. It was a long few seconds but we are able to raise it. I then pushed it toward the front of the truck and we tied it down. The driver was a pretty funny guy and the first thing he said when we got in was, “I pick up mostly Harleys.” We made it to the Kawasaki dealership and as I was taking the bike off the ramp, the manager came out and said that they were really busy because they were trying to finish stuff up before the Labor Day weekend coming up and they wouldn’t be able to look at the bike until the following Tuesday.

This was no offense to Wakeeney, Kansas but I didn’t feel like staying there for a week. My AMA towing only covers up to 50 miles and the next dealership was 150 miles in Salina. That would be close to 500 bucks towing in cash. So that option was out. I called a rental truck agency and a one way rental for a bike would be $1100.00. So that option was out. The only other option was to sell the bike to the dealer mail stuff back that I could and either fly, rent a car, or take a bus home. It was at this time that I really felt I was going to be saying goodbye to my motorcycle. The manager asked me what did I think the problem was and I explained to him what my mechanic told me about the water in the gas. So, he explained to me how to loosen the hose off of the petcock and then to turn it on, you can tell if there is water out of it. I did that and before I turned the petcock, he came out to look and there was nothing but water that came out. Basically, the reserve tank was full of water. The guy said he had never seen anything like it. He was convinced that this all came from one place but I believe it was just the collection from all of the places I had gotten gas from. And the fact that it had done something like this on the Cassier Highway in Canada but I wasn’t going to argue with the guy. After this, he felt it was something that could be fixed quickly. He asked me to just take the seat off and get everything ready to work on. Which I did. He then sent one of his mechanics out and he drained the tank and put it back on. I went into a corner in the shop and prayed while he started it up. And the first thing you know, the bike was alive again and I was ready to roll. I ended up paying them $100.00 in cash which I was totally fine with (I also accidently broke one of there socket wrenches) and took off.

It was 5:00 now and I had spent a total of 7 hours in Wakeeney, Kansas, a town of less than 2000 people. Before hitting the highway, I refueled and also bought some Heat sealer to prevent any further possible problems and got back on the interstate. I knew I wasn’t going to make it to St. Louis but I tried to make it to Topeka. I ended up staying in Junction City about 100 miles west of Topeka. I saw a sign for a Motel 6 and got a room there. I settled in about 9:00. Realizing it was my father’s birthday, I called him almost 11:00 eastern time. That day was one of the longest days yet, and I hadn’t even driven 400 miles.

I finally was able to wake up at 4:00. I really didn’t sleep to well. I think I was restless and knew I had a long day ahead of me. I was on the road in an hour. According to my GPS, I would make home at about 9pm. However, I was still on mountain time so it would be 11pm. Didn’t seem very promising.
I made it through Topeka right before dawn and hit Kansas City at morning rush hour. I was able to make it through okay and only got hit in the face with a few rocks from some road construction. After Kansas City, I was feeling good about the ride, and the warmth of the morning was enjoyable. I felt it was just a matter of how far I could go and see how things went. I had driven about 950 miles before in a day from near Key West to Winston Salem taking 16 hours. This was actually going to be another 100 miles. By the time I hit St Louis, it was noon. The amazing thing about St. Louis is that there always seems to be traffic, and this time was no different, although it was moving. You just had to be aware of everything around you. The only weird thing that happened was that I hit a good pothole perfectly at 65mph, and my extra gas actually fell, hanging off my rear fender. Again, thank God for the extra bungee straps. I took the next exit and hooked it back up in the parking lot of a Midas shop. With that last bump, I was beginning to wonder if my bike missed the rough terrain it was on two weeks ago.

I got to Mount Vernon and refueled. From that point, I knew I had about 12 hours or so to go. I was still feeling good and had drank my third caffeine drink. By the time I was in Indiana, the weather changed becoming cloudy with sporadic drizzle. As luck would have it, there was 18 miles of single lane traffic for construction. It was then that I felt I wasn’t going to make it to Winston Salem, especially if the weather was going to get bad. I refueled and put my rain suit on.
By the time I made it through Louisville. It was starting to be a steady drizzle. I was also starting to get tired. It was around 5:00 and I had already been on the road for 13 hours. I finally made it to West Virginia where the rain was coming down harder. It was at that time that I decided to stay in Huntington. My GPS was telling me I would make it home after midnight, I would be riding through the mountains at night, in the rain, and I was tired.

Stopping in Huntington turned out to be a good thing because I was able to stay with one of my father’s buddies from college. I’m begining to realize that it’s good to know people wherever you go, just so you have somebody to contact in case of an emergency, or if you need a place to stay with people you haven’t seen since you were a kid. I found the house and was able to relax for the evening. From there, it was only 276 miles.

I was woken early in the morning by the dog jumping in bed with me. I managed to get back to sleep and awoke again around 9:00. I was in no hurry since I didn’t have far to go. The weather had cleared, although it was cloudy. I ate a big breakfast made by my father’s friend and departed around 10:00. The ride went just fine and before you know it, I was approaching I77 into Virginia where I always get gas in Wytheville. From that point, I know I can make it home without having to refuel. It was a very surreal feeling the last 100 miles as I approached the North Carolina border. I let out a huge yell like I did when I made it to Alaska. I stopped by one of my other friends who weren’t home but I left the rock I got from the Arctic Ocean at their doorstep. I then stopped at my bike shop to go over everything that needed to be done and scheduled a time to bring it in for an overhaul that weekend. My last stop was the little mom and pop gas station a quarter mile from my house. I talked to them briefly and headed home. I always thought it would be funny if the bike didn’t start there. I arrived at my house in the afternoon. After making some phone calls to friends and family of my arrival, I proceeded to unpack and just try to catch up on things. The college football season was starting that night and I was looking forward to the fall. My total mileage traveled was 12,575.

Since my return, the bike was in the shop for over two weeks. I had to replace the front and rear brakes; replace the front brake calipers; replace the front and rear sprockets, replace the chain, and replace the clutch plates. And, I had to give it one big thorough cleaning. Surprisingly, I have yet to replace the tires. Those Metzler’s now have over 13,000 miles on them and they can go a couple 1000 more. I would highly recommend these on any long distance trip taken. People ask me if I would take the trip again and I tell them I would and I will. However, I don’t think I will to Deadhorse. I really think you only need to take that trip once and I would have really regretted not going there if I had not. When I go back, I want to check the Southern parts of Homer, Valdez, and maybe try to take a ferry ride somewhere. The only regrets I have are a couple. I wish I took more pictures but I discovered that every mile in Alaska is a picturesque moment. Finally, my biggest regret is that I didn’t see one bear. Amazing as that is it’s true, but maybe that was a good thing.

Special thanks to: Beth Casesse in Denver, Co. Dicky and Debbie in Palmer, AK. Skip And Brenda Cory in Huntington, WV; Tom Sheppard in Seattle, WA. The Kawasaki Dealership in Wakeeny, KS (that didnt’ want me to mention the name because they weren’t suppose to be working on my bike, however, it’s the only one in Wakeeny so should be easy to find). Super 7 Motel in St. Louis, MO and Wall to Wall ATV and Cycle Repair in Pinnacle, NC (www.walltoowall.com) for their professional and friendly service. Finally, I’d like to thank all of the wonderful people I met on my journey.

Tom Serine is a 1989 graduate of Manteo High School and a 1993 graduate of Appalachian State. He currently resides in Winston Salem, NC and works for the Department of Veteran’s Affairs. He rides a 2002 Honda 750 Shadow ACE.............Tom Serine