Hey, Brent,

How are things? We are eager to hear of your adventure. Hope all is well

He's probably too busy having fun to keep us lowly desk-slaves updated!

__________________
Bruce Clarke - 2020 Yamaha XV250

Selbyville, Delaware to Newfoundland, Canada
Heading north now and the great adventure truly begins!
As per the usual, you can choose between reading or watching, or both.

After visiting family and friends for three weeks, I found myself thinking I’d need to rush to get from Delaware to Sydney, Nova Scotia in time to catch the ferry to Newfoundland that I had booked several weeks before. And after studying the map and distances, it turned out I was right. I’d need a string of 350 mile-days to do it. This sprinting part is somewhat boring, so I’ll skip the minor details here in favor of the more detailed write up of Newfoundland below. On the way, I stopped over for the night in Binghamton, New York, Montpelier, Vermont, and then Bangor, Maine, camping in the latter.

Skipping the I-95 corridor, I rode through some incredible scenic areas of Pennsylvania, New York, Vermont, New Hampshire and Maine including the Poconos, and the White and Green Mountains. All simply amazing!! On a friend’s suggestion, I took the Kancamagus Highway, or “Kanc,” from Lincoln to Conway in New Hampshire and it is also spectacular!

In Vermont, I also started to see my first warning signs for moose, which people seemed to talk about everywhere I went. Locals say dawn and dusk are worse as the moose, licking salt from the road, are hard to see and like to follow headlights. I only saw one, though, dead by the side of the road.
The further north I went, the daylight hours increased and the temperature decreased. I had planned to “wait out” the colder temps when I planned my trip, but still had some chilly morning starts in the 30’s, with each day ending in the 60’s.

Camping in Bangor was nice as folks got together in the campground for a bonfire and made Poutine in honor of Canada’s Victoria Day.

Poutine, my first time having it, was delicious, simply French fries with gravy and cheese!! Everyone likes French fries, gravy, and cheese, right? But, when you put them all together - Dayum!!
The ride from Bangor to the Canadian border was desolate and devoid of gas stations. And of course, I did not fill up before leaving Bangor. I coasted into a gas station finally in Calais with zero bars on my fuel gauge, and of course, my spare can was empty because I did not think I’d need it yet!! I told myself never to take off without a full tank of gas again!
This two-hour ride from Bangor to Calais was also the first time I felt really alone and isolated on my trip, both from a physical and social perspective. On this route through Maine, not only was there no one around to talk to, or cars to share the road with, but my better-half, Tracy, who I love and adore, I began to miss immensely. “Alone time” in the helmet, right? Well, we are mad about each other, and I’ve missed seeing her every day. I kept reminding myself that
I’d planned my trip to see her about every two months over the year and a half course of my trip, but on that lonely road in the backwoods of Maine, I started to worry that would not be enough. Shaking off those feelings, barely, I composed myself enough for the border crossing into Canada.
Immediately upon entering New Brunswick, I knew I was in a different place. First, everything is in metric, and as the eastern provinces are dual-language, English and French, so, too are the road signs. I enjoyed the math exercises to convert from kmh to mph as I did not switch it over on my bike. Celsius is another matter as the conversion equation is kind of jacked up, haha!
I can’t say much about New Brunswick nor Nova Scotia as I bypassed the more coastal scenic routes in order to cover miles. Making my way into Nova Scotia, I can see them off in the distance, growing every minute, large, no… huge, no… JAYSUS!! GIGANTIC windmill generators. These beasts must be 500 feet tall with blades nearly that long!! Then I see the warning signs, one reading that the crosswind (had to be a crosswind, right?) routinely gusts to over 100KMH, or 60 miles an hour! Well, it was grey, foggy, and drizzly already, so why not throw in some crosswind, too? That day, those windmills were spinning with quite the velocity, and I quickly found out why. HOLY SH*T was that the hardest stretch of hanging-on-for-my-life riding I have ever done. I think I may have wet myself, too, although I couldn’t tell because although it was cold and I was wrapped up like flesh burrito, when I finally got through it, I was drenched!
After pushing hard for four days, I made it into Sydney in time to take a couple of days off the bike and catch up with the blog. I also took care of some logistics, like doing some laundry and picking up supplies, including getting some tie-down straps for the ferry.

At this point while writing this, I am thinking I should do a separate post for Newfoundland, but, no, I’m not… It’ll just have to be a long one. I have a lot to say about my travels through Newfoundland.
The next day, one I’d been looking forward to for months, perhaps even a year, I was off to Newfoundland. The ferry runs from North Sydney, Nova Scotia to Port aux Basques, Newfoundland. At the terminal in Sydney, there are only two motorcycles in the lines of cars, mine and my bike’s twin, two fully loaded GSs, both pointing toward Newfoundland.
This is when I met Stefan, a retired surgeon from Germany, which turned out to be freakin’ righteous in so many ways.

He, too, is doing a TransCan and Panamerican run, but at a slightly different, and somewhat broken, pace. So, we had a lot to chat about right off (and he could speak English, quite well, I might add). The other great thing was I planned to show up in Newfoundland without a plan, really just winging it. Stefan, on the other hand, had put together an amazing plan, and I begged to pair up! So, my original seven-day visit grew to 11 days, which was fine by me if I could cost-share rooms and follow his plan! And his plan turned out to be AWESOME!
I spent the first night on the “Rock” in Port aux Basques in a nice Bed and Breakfast. Here, I had my first introduction to Newfies and was impressed immediately. Very nice, friendly, hard-working, and hardy are the words that sprang to mind. They seemed interested and happy that I’d come this far to visit their island, and perhaps a bit crazy to do so on a motorcycle in May! Turns out the weather in Newfoundland in May is very unpredictable, changing hourly and by the mile. One minute, it is grey, cold, damp, drizzly, and windy, and then the next minute the sun pokes through the clouds, shining warmth through your suit and onto your skin.
Speaking of windy, if you plan to visit Newfoundland, be aware there is a stretch of road on the TransCan just north of Port aux Basques that will actually shut down due to high winds – no traffic is allowed through. It’s due to the mountains acting as a funnel as winds come down from the north. Here, a sign read the max recorded wind speed was recorded at 240kmh! And I’ll bet it was a cross wind, too, haha!
The next day, I headed north along the west coast and felt like I’d stepped onto another planet.



Large granite hills with shear faces gave way to higher tabletop shaped mountains that stretched as far as the eye could see, and the road goes right between them! The Long Range Mountains, as they are called, cover the entire western portion of Newfoundland and are showcased in Gros Morne National Park about halfway up the island. The spectacular scenery made my head spin, taking it all in was a challenge as each new turn another scene would unfold before my eyes better than the last. And I had my first moose sighting, one just ambling along the highway on the shoulder.
I finally rejoined Stefan in the park where we’d planned to camp, but the forecast was calling for below freezing temperatures. Since we’d decided to cost-share rooms, the high prices became tenable so we stayed in a nice hotel in a small village along the shore, in Cow Head, after visiting the lighthouse in Rocky Harbor just before. It was clear we’d beat the tourist season by a couple of weeks as the hotel, although open, was clearly in the final stages of getting ready, with the paint still fresh smelling on the walls.
The next day, we headed to the far north of Newfoundland to a place called St. Anthony’s. A small fishing village completely isolated from the world, it seemed, before a road was built in the 50s.

We took in L’Anse aux Meadows, where the first Europeans were believed to have visited the North American continent over a 1000 years ago.

Again, we were early and the visitor center was closed “officially” but they let us in to get warm, which we needed as the temperature was about 32, which helped explain all of those building-sized white things floating by the harbor – ICEBERGS! Funny thing I learned about L’Anse aux Meadows. It is obviously a mix of French and English, but only so because the British were not too bright on this one. The original name is L’Anse aux Méduse, or Bight of jellyfish. When the Brits took over, they mistook Méduse for Meadows, it is supposed because the peninsula looks like a large meadow of peat. Haha!
We stayed two nights in St. Anthony’s and the next day booked a whale watching tour. AGAIN, we were too early in the season for whales, but we did drive-bys on dozens of icebergs, and saw sea lions and bald eagles. Coming back from the boat was the coldest I’d been yet as it was raining pretty steady and the temps were still hovering around 35F.



Our next destination was Twillingate with a stopover for one night in Deer Lake to get there. Did I mention Newfoundland is pretty damned big! It’s roughly the size of California in square miles! We chose a different route back and hit wildlife jackpot, seeing five moose and three caribou within about 15 minutes. None of them seemed to mind me stopping and taking their pictures. East of Deer Park, the land flattens out dramatically.


Twillingate is a sleepy, touristy village on the northern coast where everyone seemed to know one another. And our small bed and breakfast was filled with people from all over the world. We also saw icebergs here, but they were larger than those we’d seen up north in St. Anthony’s, taller. In Twillingate, there was an accent I had to work hard at to make out, and several expressions for which I simply gave up on. Most folks are descendants of a mix of Irish and British, which explains the accent. Still, just the nicest people!
From Twillingate, we made our way to St. John’s, or as those folks in Twillingate called it, ‘the Big City.” We rode through the low rolling hills of Dildo Provincial Park (yes, that’s how it’s spelled!) and Terra Nova National Park. The scenery again picked up as my head was on a swivel trying to take it all in. Simply amazing riding!

And St. John’s is a big city, a completely modern place compared to the older world living found in most of the rest of Newfoundland, such a contrast! Riding into the city was challenging as we arrived right around rush hour! Rush hour is something we had not seen the last couple of weeks. In St. John’s, we booked a room at the local college. They rent “Summer Accommodations,” which are just empty dorm rooms now that classes are over. Best $27 lodging ever as we had the bathrooms to ourselves as well as great wifi!
We planned two nights, so we had a day to explore. We visited The Rooms, a combination museum, art gallery, and holder of provincial archives, then next door the Basilica of St. John the Baptist.


We tried Signal Hill in the morning, but it was completely fogged in, so we tried later and were rewarded by our persistence.


Afterward we hiked 6 miles or so around Qidi Vidi Village and Lake back to the university.
The next morning, upon leaving we decided to take photos at the very end of the Trans-Canada Highway, which actually starts on Vancouver Island 4800 miles to the west.

Then, we headed to Cape Spear, the eastern most point on the North American continent. Simply breathtaking!

Our next stop heading back west was the small village of Botwood, chosen because it’s halfway across the rock and had an inexpensive hostel.

Turned out to be the best night we had on the island, a great hostel that gave a chance to chat with other folks until late at night about our travels. And the hostel was super clean, with an awesome common area, kitchen, and grocery store right across the street. Met a cool chick from Montreal there and chatted forever.

By the way, we had to head back west to Port aux Basques because the ferry from Argentia (south of St. John’s) back to North Sydney had not started yet! Again, too early!
The last night on the island found us back in Port aux Basques, where, frankly, I was exhausted! Not just from the riding, but from the total immersive experience of a beautiful place and its people.
Before boarding the ferry, we shot over to Rose Orange Village and Lighthouse just east of Port aux Basques, and that turned out to be some of the best riding we’d done on the island, definitely a must see with great twistied there and back!

We spent 11 days on the island and I would do it again in a heartbeat!
Final thoughts on Newfoundland
I think Newfoundland should be on everyone’s list. It is a place of such contrasts west to east, north to south, in climate, scenery, road conditions, but everywhere we went, the people were some of the friendliest I’d ever met. And the scenery is top-tier and ever better on two wheels where you can smell the evergreens and wet pavement going by. Moose and caribou are everywhere if you luck a chance to see them, and icebergs!! Wow! The roads are something to watch for, though, as even the main roads have potholes, with the secondary roads even worse. We encountered dirt and gravel a few times and that was only when we left the beaten track to explore the smaller villages.
Another interesting feature of almost all of the roads is a center washboard and two ruts where the cagers drive. So, you can vibrate yourself half to death in the middle or let the ruts jangle your front tire all over the place at 65MPH.
The last thing I’ll mention is the weather. We came a bit early, so most have told us, but beating the tourist season meant no crowds or heavy traffic. But, it also meant we had the most unpredictable and quickly changing weather I’d ever experienced. Although it never got below freezing, we did see some snow in St. Anthony’s, and I felt cold most of the time there. Hour by hour, and mile by mile, you just never know what to expect.
Oh, one more thing. I had planned my trip from the start to be solo. But, meeting Stefan on that pier in Sydney has changed my thinking on this. It’s good, not just from a security and financial standpoint, but having someone to chat with about the day is pretty cool, and Stefan and I got along great! I look forward to when our paths cross again down the road in California or wherever.
My recommendation: Do it!!
Lessons learned:
1. Because Newfoundland is quite expensive to travel through, I recommend ditching the restaurants and instead go grocery shopping and make your own meals, which can save you quite a bit of money.
2. I had never slept in a university dorm room nor a hostel – good accommodations for about $30USD. For now, they are my two favorite places to stay after camping. For both, I found them on booking.com.
3. Laundry. I’ve had no problem getting laundry done. I had a hotel do my laundry once with all the bedding they were washing, an AirBnB hostess let me throw in a load with hers, and then hung it all out to dry on the line, and then I managed it at a hostel for a loonie (Canadian dollar, or about 80 cents U. S. No problems, just ask.

Wooohooo, was waiting for this uodate!

Love the videos too, awweesoomme report my friend!

Nova Scotia to Seattle

As I have been apt to do, here I offer a “Cliff Notes” video for those pinched for time.



After riding 12 days with my new friend from Germany, Stefan, we eventually had to part ways owing to different plans (for the time being…). We left Port aux Basques and arrived in the rain in North Sydney. The plan was to ride the Cabot Trail the following day, so we holed up in Ingonish on the east side of Cape Breton National Park for the night. My ride the following day on the Cabot Trail was disappointing, especially the east side. It was raining and quite foggy and I didn’t get a chance at all to see any of the coast. The ride on the west side, however, although rainy, was good with lots of twisties through the mountains.



I had to be in Truro, Nova Scotia that night so that the following morning I could get the bike serviced in Moncton, New Brunswick. I stopped in at Atlantic Motoplex and they had me in and out in no time.



The next several days are “transit” days, making my way to the Horizons Unlimited Meeting in Bracebridge, Ontario. So, after my service, I hot-wheeled it all day in the rain and made it to Edmunston, where I was glad to be out of the rain after finding an appropriately named hotel on booking.com.



The next night I had my first AirBnB experience in Danville, Quebec (just south of Montreal) and it was awesome! My host was Claire, a French Canadian, and she had the most amazing stories to tell about life’s philosophies on all things good. She was also a virtuoso harp player and allowed me to video one (included in the video version of this post).

Claire also let me do some much needed laundry!



Another first, the following day, was a night in a 12-person co-ed bunkroom in a hostel in downtown Ottawa. What an experience.



By the time the place was filled, there were folks from about a dozen countries chatting the night away about where they’re from and what they are doing there. This is my bunk mate Mira from Switzerland and she was flat out crazy! But, we all had a good time.



I knew I was in trouble when the bunkroom filled up with nappers about 4 in the afternoon. They all left around 10 that night to hit the town and I was gone in the morning while they were all passed out.

The only negative thing about the hostel was, I guess because of the hostel’s proximity to a homeless shelter, I had my favorite pair of gloves stolen off the bike. Totally my fault for not securing my stuff, but damn, I miss those gloves.

The following four-day weekend, I rode out to Bracebridge, Ontario to attend the Horizons Unlimited Meeting there. The ride through Algonquin Provincial Park was amazing!



Just like the other HU meetings I’ve attended, this is a cool place to be to meet fellow motorcycle adventurers and hear their stories of travel and lessons learned.



Greg, who hosted the event, I met in Virginia a few weeks back and has taken a trip similar to mine.



I also hung out with Richard, who I had also met in Virginia, and we simply had a blast all weekend.



I also met Liz Jansen (again!), who I think is just one of the best people on planet earth. She’s written several books and articles about connecting the road and spirit!



That Sunday on leaving, I paired up with Jim, who is making a run up to Alaska. He’s running a company to provide support to overlanders - Overland Quest – planning and support | get there. Interestingly, when I met up with Neale Bayley back in Charlotte, he had given me this guy’s sticker, which I had on the bike. When Jim pulled out a sticker to give to me, he was shocked to see I already had one! Small world!



After talking to several folks, I decided to go over Lake Superior and was not disappointed. Lake Superior and Sleeping Giant Provincial Parks are beautiful and the riding was fantastic!



I stayed at another AirBnB in Duluth after crossing back into the U. S. My hosts were great and they had the largest cat I have ever seen!!



Back in the U.S. now, the next several days were honestly too much for words – but I’ll try. Just utterly and astonishingly beautiful scenery, which, for an American, I am ashamed I had never visited until now!! Hugging the I-90 corridor, I started in Sioux Falls, where there are falls literally running through the town.



This was also the first day in weeks that I was hot, peeling off layers during the day and eventually having to stop for ice cream!! The next day, I rode through Badlands National Park and was again blown away! It was also hot there, too, nearly 100 degrees, as the color and shapes of the pinnacles and buttes created an oven effect. Still, it was breathtaking.



The next day, I rode through the Black Hills of South Dakota and visited two iconic national treasures, Mount Rushmore and Devil’s Tower.





Now, the next day, holy jayzus… that one day, I could never do justice for in writing. The entire day was stunning and every turn offered more and more. The day started in Red Lodge, Montana and first up was Beartooth Pass. It was cold and windy as all get out, but the riding and views were amazing!





Then, Chief Joseph’s Highway!!



Then… Yellowstone and Old Faithful!!





Then, if it couldn’t get any better, Grand Tetons! This part of Earth has to be among the most spectacular ever!!



I had intended to camp there, but it was late in the day and all the campgrounds were full. I ended up staying in Jackson, which turned out to be a huge financial mistake because it was unbelievably expensive. But, I was exhausted after this day and just had to crash quick.

The next day I rode into Idaho and swung by Craters of the Moon National Park. Totally surreal!



For that night, I reached out to Lance Gines and asked if I could stop by. He has a great family, but also an amazing dual-sport spirit that permeates the house and family.



Well, they put me up for the night and even fed me! I look forward after my trip to making it back to Boise to do some riding on my KTM350 that’s sitting in storage…

The next day, I had my sights on the Touratech Rally in Plain, Washington.



I did a volunteer stint at the front gate the first afternoon and was amazed at all the people rolling through, including Lisa and Simon Thomas, and Sandy, Terry, and Jack, the AdventureTrio. It was fun while I was there, and I know I missed a lot of cool stuff by leaving early, but I had to see about a girl, Tracy, who I’d left in Virginia nine weeks ago and was now in Seattle.



So, if you’d been following along, you know that Tracy and I decided to move from Virginia to Seattle. We left Virginia on the same day back in April with her ferrying the dog by car and me taking a bit more circuitous route by moto through North, Central and South America. It was so good to see her again and recharge y batteries in Seattle for a week before heading north to Alaska. I’ll see her again in 6-7 weeks when I get back from Alaska heading south!!

Lessons learned:

1/ I continue to find I am carrying things I don’t need, like an extra rain jacket or warm coat. The motorcycle rain jacket over my inner riding jacket are perfectly fine. Or a doggone 6-pound hatchet that I’ve only used to bang in tent stakes. Or extra clothes… I have been able to find laundry service nearly everywhere I go… I think by the time I hit Mexico in a few months, I may be down to just one dry bag, maybe just a thong… lol.

2/ Planning is still my preference. While I enjoy the adventure of just rolling in and finding a place to sleep, that has bitten me hard twice now, and they were expensive lessons to learn. I still try and plan out using AllStays and booking.com a few days out, but sometimes, schedules slip or I want more flexibility. I am better now than when I left, by I need to get better at being more flexible.

3/ My cell phone bill for Canada came in – OUCH! I thought for sure I was using my data sparingly, but the bill, even though I was on a plan for Canada, was nearly $400. I need to just let go of my dependency on ubiquitous Internet, or pay more attention to free Wi-Fi hotspots. I’ll get there.

Seattle, Washington to Dawson Creek, British Columbia

You know the drill. Here’s the video if you please, otherwise, or also, read along.



The few days I spent in Seattle with Tracy I think I was the most relaxed in my entire life. Not worried about the bike or miles, and not having to think about work in any way made the stop like a vacation. But, even better than that, I got to hang with Tracy and her daughter Jackie! I got to see the place Tracy is staying while I am on my adventure, too. It’s a nice apartment with good views in Renton, just south of Seattle.



Not until the day before I had to leave did we three actually venture out, visiting the Chihuly Museum, which is stuffed full of this amazing man’s blown glass. It’s right beside the space needle, so of course I had to try and take picture with both.


We didn’t make it up the needle because the line was too long (we had been up it once before anyway), so instead we decided to try the Great Wheel, one of those ginormous ferris wheels near the aquarium. Lots of nervousness as that thing rocked back and forth at the top while those below were loading.



The following day I had to get going if I were to make it to Deadhorse and back to Seattle in early August, or about 6 weeks. I need to meet an impending date that Tracy and I have marked on the calendar to fly back to Florida to attend my brother’s retirement ceremony from the Navy, and then get all of our stuff out of storage in Virginia and back to Washington.

The road east out of Seattle runs right through National Forests of lush and green, which probably explains the rain and mist. After that Washington opens up into desert scrubland all the way to Spokane before you start to see trees again. I camped that night near Diamond Lake.



The next day, I had intended to stop short of Glacier National Park to camp, but got there early enough and decided to go ahead and ride the Going to the Sun Road through the park. Listen mates, please put this on your list to do in your lifetime. It is absolutely spectacular and majestic and hot apple pie with ice cream amazing, and despite the heavy 10mph traffic, I was having mind orgasms every 3 minutes. And, much of the ride you are on a sheer 2000-foot cliff. Yikes!







That night, after Glacier, I holed up in a very expensive hotel in Babb, Montana near the border with Alberta, and they didn’t even have wifi!!!



The next day I crossed the border back into Canada and followed a route suggested by a fellow Jupiter’s Traveller, Nevil Stow, who I was planning to stay with that night in Canmore, Alberta. So, if you’re ever in Babb, Montana, do this and take Nevil’s and my advice: take the Kananaskis Trail. Holy mother of all toads, frogs, and other living things. After Glacier, I didn’t think I could be impressed, but as I learned, as the US Rockies become the Canadian Rockies, it only gets better each and every mile. It was marked as a dirt road on my AAA map, but no dirt, my friends, nothing but smooth asphalt through some breathtaking mountains.





That weekend I hung out with Nevil and his beautiful wife, Michelle.





Nevil’s house is wonderfully situated near the continental divide and is considered by many the “Aspen of Canada.” The town of Canmore reminded me of some Bavarian paradise.



That weekend started with Canada Day, the day I arrived, and went all weekend. Folks, mostly local friends, were coming and going all weekend and I find out afterward that his home is also known as “Stowasis” in the adventure motorcycle community, famous at least partially for its “Garagaritas.” Haha. Well, I too had to sign the garage door, right? (by the way, there’s people you know who have written on that garage door…)



On Saturday, we did some admin in Canmore, where I picked up some supplies, including bear spray and bangers, and had some lunch. Then later, we did some bike maintenance in Nevil’s well-appointed garage.



Nevil is making a trip to Alaska in my heels and planning to make a movie for the 9MMFF, which he started, by the way…

Make sure to check it out:

9 Minute Moto Film Festival - The Home of Overland Short Films

They definitely took care of me and I really enjoyed my stay at the Stowasis! It’s the kind of place you’d want, and they’d insist, to stay for as long as you need to. Thanks Michelle and Nevil!

After leaving Nevil’s house, I first stopped at Lake Louise and Moraine Lake near Banff. Again, just another couple of money shots as this part of the work is just simply amazing.



Then, I headed up the Icefield Parkway toward Jasper. And yet again, the views are just too much for words. I had some weather, namely rain, and it got damned cold through some of the shoots between the mountains, but still I wouldn’t have traded that ride for anything.



That night, I had intended to “wing it” and find a place to camp near Jasper when all of sudden I got a note from Stefan, who you may remember from our trip in Newfoundland a few weeks ago, asking to meet up!! We had split up back then because of different paths, but now the streams were crossing! Of course, I said heck yeah!



Stefan and I met in Hinton just north of Jasper at a hotel he’d already booked for two nights, so we made plans to ride the roads local to Jasper the following day. First, we rode through Medicine Lake, which a year ago (to the day) a fire had ravaged the place. It gave off a nice set of hues as the trees began to recover.



Next was Meligne Lake further south. This lake is very popular with the tourists and there were dozens of tour buses packed with people around.



We’d planned to go to Miette Hot Springs, but ran into “Joe from Jasper” in Meligne who ran a local tour outfit and he convinced us that was a waste of time (the spring just fed into a swimming pool…). He suggested instead we head down into Jasper National Park and take in Edith Covell mountain and glacier. Glad we listened, because the ride up the mountain was awesome, with lots of twisties, and the road takes you right up against a glacier. Thanks Joe!!



The following morning, Stefan and I split up (again) as I headed north to Dawson Creek, British Columbia via the Bighorn Highway (Hwy 40). The Rockies quickly gave out and turned over to slow rolling green hills and straight highways.

Dawson Creek is cool because it is home of Milepost 0 of the Alaska Highway, where I planned to relax for a couple of days. It’s a neat little town that grew rapidly in the 30s when the railroad extended here. Now, many people come through on their way west and north to Alaska.

While intending to take a picture of the sign, I ran into a fellow rider and realized it was Alex, who I had met in Bracebridge, Ontario several weeks ago! So we took the picture together.



So, that’s it for now. I am continuing on northwest to Alaska now, taking the Alaska Highway to Whitehorse, and then the Klondike Loop, including the Top of the World Highway. More posts later!

Lessons Learned:

1) Gas stations and roads in northern Alberta. The stretch from Jasper to Dawson Creek is about 325 miles, but there was no problem getting gas in Grand Cache (about 90 miles in) and then again in Grand Prairie (another 115 miles), but between these small towns there is literally nothing but trees and wildlife. There also was a lot of construction between Grand Cache and Grand Prairie that required waiting for about 20 minutes and then following a guide truck for 5 miles over recently chunked up road. I understand from locals that little maintenance is done in the Winter, so in the Summer, there is a LOT of road construction!

2) Nevil (a prior trail guide) recommended some things to me I took on without question: i. bear spray with a glow in the dark cap (so you can quickly find it in the tent), ii. Bear poppers (like flares, but they go bang), iii. a fixed knife to cut your own way out of a tent if a bear gets too close, and iv. a solar powered inflatable light (seriously, Google this, these things are great!). For the bear spray and poppers, you cannot (or are not supposed to) bring them across the border, but you can find them in many stores once in Canada, like Canadian Tire. They’ll want your personal information and make you sign a government document before getting them.

Yest another great episode, I really enjoy your videos. Simple, humble, and to the point. Thank you for the work you put into making them, and for sharing your adventure with us!

David C.
@motopoet

G'day again Brent,
Really enjoying your updates and videos, keep it coming.

Dawson Creek, British Columbia to Deadhorse, Alaska

And here again… the video first, or last, or whatever you like. Then again, this is a bit of a long one.. I covered a few miles here and experienced a lot of things.



I left Dawson Creek early in the morning and I find that when I do that, leave early, I often have the roads all to myself for miles and miles. It’s sometimes scary considering the remoteness, it’s also sometimes rather lonely, but more often than not, I relish the solace. This day was like the latter. I started enjoying the aloneness of it all in between start and stop points. Any-hoo, I was making my way north with a plan to get to Fort Nelson where I could hole up for a night in a non-descript cheap hotel. But I did get to park under an awning!



The next day, I made my way through some construction that had the roads pretty torn up. It was in northern BC that I started experiencing more and more waits for pilot cars to lead folks over long stretches of roads under constuction.



But, the scenery was great, that is when I could see it through the fog and rain.



I camped that night in Liard River Hot Springs Provincial Park, and the first thing I had to do was dry out my sleeping bag, which got wet from the rain leaking into my panniers!!



The Liard Hot Springs are fed continuously from an underwater spring with the feed end about 120 degrees and the other end about 100 degrees. I stayed in the relatively cooler end.





While at the park, one of the rangers told the story of a very recent black bear attack on two folks walking down the very boardwalk I had walked earlier – without my bear spray!!



There is nothing at Liard beyond the peace of the campground, hot springs, and an awesome burger truck. Here, I had lunch with Mark (left) and Lenin (right), on their own trip into the Yukon and Alaska and back.



I also met Liane, originally from Spain, who travelled to and fell in love with the Canadian wilderness, so decided to stay and work in the park. She scored me some free firewood after I told her I was heading south and was practicing Spanish. We chatted several times over the hours, she trying to help me with my Spanish.



The next day, continuing along the Alaska Highway, I made it into the Yukon and over to Watson Lake, where I stopped by the Signpost Forest. You kinda have to, right? Plus, it’s right on the Alaska Highway in Watson Lake.





That night, I had planned to stay in Watson Lake, but it was still early when I arrived, so I pushed onto Whitehorse for the night and grabbed a hotel.

The next day, I left the Alaska Highway and instead headed up the Klondike Highway toward Dawson. Dawson is a fun little town on the Yukon River that got its start as a mining town, and still is in many ways, with boardwalks and dirt streets. Seems many people are fascinated by the place as it is quite touristy.





I stayed at the Bunkhouse and relaxed in town for two days. If you ever make it there, make sure to catch the show at Diamond Tooth Gerties and check out the Pit, a rather eclectic bar.



I also ran into Jason Spafford, who with Lisa Morris, just finished a two and half year Argentina to Deadhorse run. Make sure to look up Jason’s photos – best ever.



I was excited about the next day – the Top of the World Highway. After leaving Dawson via ferry, I was soon on my longest dirt road to date, about 100 miles (including the Taylor Highway).





The Taylor Highway, once you cross into the U.S., was horrible all the way to Chicken, full of washboard and potholes. I mean it was so bad I didn’t even stop to take a picture. But, Chicken on the other hand was a nice respite from the morning’s ride. I grabbed some lunch there and then headed on toward Tok, Alaska where again I hoteled it because I just didn’t feel like setting my tent up…

Left Tok and headed toward Fairbanks, where I booked a night in the Eielson Air Force Base lodging. Here is where I met Brian, someone I have been communicating with for about six months to meet in almost this very spot. Brian is also on a long journey about the world on his motorcycle solo, but in his case indefinitely! Make sure to check out his blog as he makes much more frequent updates than I do, haha!!

Home - Iron Roamer

Our plan was to buddy up to tackle the Dalton Highway up to Deadhorse and back. The next day we left early aiming for Wiseman, a small, well you can’t really call it a town, let’s just say place, about halfway between Fairbanks and Deadhorse or about 185 miles up the Dalton Highway. Before we got there, we stopped in at the Arctic Circle for yet another mandatory phot op. That night, we stayed at the Boreal Lodge.



I had trouble sleeping that night worrying about the rest of the Dalton up to Deadhorse, the “harder” part I supposed. South of Wiseman was not really challenging at all as all the stars aligned, I guess – the weather was good, construction was at a minimum, the road was in great shape. But the rest of the way, we had heard, had lots of construction going on with one guy saying there were sections of “apple-sized” gravel. Ugh…



So, we took off on another wonderful weather day and made it within 30 miles of Deadhorse before my hopes of smooth sailing were crushed. Those last 30 miles turned out to be everything we’d heard, pure pain– stretches of monster gravel, deep medium sized gravel, fresh noncompacted dirt. I was too busy trying to avoiding toppling over to catch a picture (I do have plenty on the return trip – next episode). I avoided at least a dozen falls.

We booked into the Aurora Hotel, one of those pre-fab deals built block by block above ground. Although it didn’t look like much from the outside, the inside was very nice with rooms akin to a cruise ship. For the price, $150/night, it’s all inclusive, meaning you can eat all you want, even during non-meal hours. Internet and laundry are also free and TV had all the movie channels. This type of hotel caters to oil production crews who rotate in and out, so it has everything they need. We stayed for two nights so that we could relax a bit.





The next day, we hopped on a bus to tour the oil production facilities and visit the Arctic Ocean. It was kinda cool standing in the Arctic Ocean knowing my trip will take me to the other end of the Pan-American Highway next year.





The rest of the afternoon in Deadhorse, we heard no less than 10 stories about motorcycles coming up to Deadhorse, and all the stories had unhappy endings – broken ribs, life flights, bike shipped back to Fairbanks.

I’ve read many accounts of people coming to Deadhorse on motorcycles and I never heard it was easy. My particular trip up, however, was not bad at all except for the hell of the last 30 miles. As I said, I think I was lucky everything just worked out. If the weather were bad during, or if there’d been a lot of rain in the preceding days, I am pretty sure my ride would have been very different.

That’s it for now. Next, I’ll be headed south.

Lessons Learned:

1) The further north you go, the more expensive everything is – everything is WAY more expensive, gas, food, and especially lodging. At the Boreal, we shared a small room with two twin beds barely big enough for two people and the bathrooms were shared with everyone.

2) If you’re heading to Deadhorse, the last stop to buy ‘take-away’ is Fairbanks. You can ‘get’ a or more in Coldfoot, but you have to drink it there. You can’t walk in and buy a six pack to go. And, Deadhorse is a dry town.

Deadhorse, Alaska to Seattle, Washington

As is my M.O, here’s a video of the whole post.



As I mentioned in the last episode, almost the entire trip north on the Dalton to Deadhorse was, well… easy. The weather had been perfect, hot even, and the roads were dry and hard.

It was an entirely different and a very miserable story heading south, though. It was bad. So bad, it made the trip south suck. The roads were complete shit. I may have even cried in my helmet once or twice it was so bad (no, not really, but it would not have been hard…)



The construction area just outside of Deadhorse was the worst. Fresh, unpacked dirt had turned into deep, muddy ruts with the blowing rain. This is Brian after his off (the video is pretty scary – he went down pretty hard).



And then I came off about 2 minutes later.



I mean seriously, how can anyone ride on a road with gravel like this! Some of it is the size of a large apple!!



This was one of the better sections – deep gravel!!



And then more mud… deep-ass mud near the Yukon Crossing.



The weather did clear a bit after the Atigun Pass, thankfully.



After that, the road to Coldfoot was a mixed bag of misery over soupy roads and I was slipping and sliding all the whole way. It took 8.5 hours to cover the 240 miles to Coldfoot.









We booked into Coldfoot Camp for the night and I sat and drank s to stave off all the anxiety and desperation I’d felt during the ride down. That was damn good . That night I slept a solid 11 hours.

It continued to rain in Coldfoot that night and again the next day for southern half of the Dalton. It was so muddy that eventually the radiators on my R1200GS became completely clogged with mud and I began to overheat, having to stop every few miles to let the bike cool down.



Eventually, the rain came on hard and my savior was riding through it, cooling the bike and clearing one radiator. I finally made it into Fairbanks and made a beeline for the first carwash place to give the bike a good rinse, including cleaning out those radiators.

In Fairbanks, I stayed on the University of Alaska campus in one of their dorm rooms. You really should check these places out. Cheap, secure, and with good wifi (all the students are home for the summer). I did some bit of admin over three days, replacing my GoPro case, and getting extra batteries.

The next day, we headed down to Anchorage. The ride out of Fairbanks is pretty boring to start but then the mountain rise above you and before you know it you’re in Denali National Park.



I went through another construction area much like the ones that scared me coming north through BC and the Yukon and realized this, and those, were actually fantastic roads compared to what I experienced on the Dalton.

The next three nights, we stayed on the University of Alaska campus in Anchorage. Excellent rooms!!!! We holed up here to let some bad weather pass through. The folks in Anchorage were happy about the rain because of a large wildfire just south of the city that was threatening.

The we headed over to Tok on the Glenn Highway, where a large glacier dominated the view for a while.



In Tok, I stayed in the same hotel I stayed in when going north. And this is where Brian and I parted ways, me going south and he covering my tracks east through Chicken and Dawson. I really enjoyed riding with Brian (here’s a shot of him at Denali).



The next day, I make my way to Haines Junction and stay at a very nice hostel and met some cool people, including Sarath, a fellow ADVer making his way up and back to Alaska from San Francisco.





The next night I was in Johnson’s Crossing (there aren’t many places to stay up here!), a small shanty type place, but they had wifi, a good restaurant, and !





I also ran into a couple from the UK, who was up here riding in a large group. Good people. I bumped into them several times heading south to Kitwanga, the end of the Cassiar.



On my way south, I got an email from my old friend Stefan (third meeting now) who was heading north. We met up for coffee somewhere on the Alaska Highway. I’ll be seeing him again as we head south into Mexico together.



I was hearing reports about more construction on the Cassiar near Dease Lake, and just as my luck would have it, it was raining… But, thankfully, this was the last of the construction I would see. Thank goodness because, frankly, I was tired of it!



At Dease Lake, I hung out in the parking lot drinking with these fellow adventurers… (Hi Joanie!)



I spent the next day in Stewart, which is a short 35 miles or so off the Cassiar highway and well worth the ride. Here, I saw Bear Glacier right on the side of the road.

The towns of Stewart, in British Colombia, and neighboring Hyder, in Alaska, are cool little places it the world surrounded by mountains.





In Hyder, I visited Fish Creek in Tongass National Forest where the U. S. National Forest Service had built an observation platform for feeding bears. I saw none that day (they had been averaging one-two a day, and at random times).



The next few days were merely transit days – Smithers, Prince George, and then Cache Creek – I was looking forward to getting “home” to Seattle again.

After Cache Creek, I chose Route 99 to Vancouver, known as the Sea to Sky Highway. It goes through Lillooet and Whistler and is probably the most amazingly scenic, twisty, and fast road I have ever been on, and carves right through the Rockies.



I know this is a bold statement, but I am from North Carolina and spent a lot of time in Virginia, riding through the Smoky Mountains. I believe if you took the very best of the motorcycle roads in NC and VA – and I am talking about the Dragon, the Rattlesnake, the Blue Ridge Parkway, the Cherohala Skyway, roads like that – if you took only the best pieces of each of those roads and summed them, they’d still come up short of the Sea to Sky Highway. Simply breathtaking!

Later that day, I made it into Seattle, tired from a full days riding and thankful to have this sometimes arduous, yet beautiful trip, come to a close. It was nice to be back in civilization again.

Lesson Learned:

1) British Columbia: I spent nearly five weeks in British Columbia, the Yukon, and Alaska and in my opinion, British Columbia is the most beautiful place I have ever visited - in my life. It is an outdoor lover’s paradise with a beautiful, raw, seemingly untouched, but well cared for diversity. From mountains to rivers to glaciers to animals, I was stunned everyday riding through this Province. I can also tell Canadians are very proud of this Province.

2) Aloneness. The flip side to riding in these truly faraway and amazing lands is that I was by myself by what felt like hundreds of miles sometimes. I really struggled to get over a couple of humps of exasperation caused by my isolation. Each time that happened, however, I gave in to the beauty of the world around me. Just giving in I think is the key to truly remarkable travel, being vulnerable to whatever happens and simply going along for the ride. I felt so much better about myself, life, and the world when I resolved to these inclinations.

3) Dalton. As I said in the last episode, my northbound trip on the Dalton was, well, easy. It was hot, dry, and dusty, and the hard pack dirt roads were very hard. Coming back south, I encountered a totally different road, wetted by days of raining, and raining during the trek, that made the journey an expedition. I learned so many things about riding in sloppy stuff those two days. No, that’s not quite right. I had learned these lessons at the BMW Off-road School, I had just never applied them practically. These tips worked for me, so I recommend trying these when things are sloppy (all of which are equally important and go together):

a) Always look up and ahead!! As soon as you look at the muddy rut beside you, that is where you are going. I got in the habit of the gluing my eyes on the “T” on the Pilot Vehicle in really bad stuff in construction zones. If you are not following a pilot vehicle, pick a tree off in the distance. Huge difference!

b) Loose hands! When a heavy bike goes squirrely under you, with the handle bars going all over the place from deep gravel or mud, the natural inclination is to control it, forcibly, and even slow down. No!! It’s like wrestling a bear and you will tire quickly and will likely come off eventually. Alternatively, I found when I was in something a bit slippery or unpredictable, I “let go” and thought “loose hands.” When I did this, the bike would straighten right up without hardly a push from me.

c) When in doubt… throttle out. So, I never understood this lesson until I did it 1000 times on the Dalton in soupy mud. I always thought it meant keeping your speed up through messy stuff. Nope, not to me. What I found it to mean is instead of a “hard throttle” through the soup, it is rather to “blip” the throttle when you feel the front tire digging in. “Blipping” the throttle would decompress the weight on the front suspension, making the steering very light (as opposed to digging into the muck and wobbling the steering all over the place), and when done with “loose hands” and “looking ahead,” the bike would always - ALWAYS - right itself.

I have been following your ride around the Americas. Interesting report.

I see you made it over to Stewart and Hyde Alaska.

Did you get a chance to ride up to Salmon Glacier? Many miss out on visiting this site.

Salmon Glacier is 16 miles north of Hyder along a gravel road. The Salmon Glacier is one of the largest glaciers in Canada, although with global warming it may have shrunken down to the size of an ice cube since I was last there.

As you ride up from Hyder to Salmon Glacier, you pass a number of storied gold/copper mining sites, now since long abandoned. Premier Mines, Grandeur Mines. There is a lot of mining history in these parts.

Ride4Adventure

I did not.

I have reason to go back now, don't I?

~brent

Hi Brent, excellent job, i really enjoy reading and watching your posts! I was going to try and chronical my trip south.... but ive just been telling everyone i know to fallow yours and pretend its me!! Thanks for all your efforts, safe travels!

Brent
Great story & pics, brings back memories of our trip along the roughly same route, keep me amused while i should be working. What's the Scottish connection?

Gino & Fiona

Thanks!

Family, a couple generations ago. And I spent a lot of time in Scotland, too, while in the Navy - Dunoon, Glasgow, and Edinburgh.