Part 2
21 days, 7,250 mi
Total Part 1 & 2: 32 days, 10,254 mi.
Day 1
July 22, 2023
Day 2
July 23, 2023
Day 3
July 24, 2023
Day 4
July 25, 2023
Camp 4, on a borrow pit - first of many.
Day 5
July 26, 2023
In another hour, the rain increased so dramatically that at times I couldn't see where I was going too well. I could see the road in front of me as a blur, but I could not see anything along the side of the road. I couldn't see the painted lines on the right and left sides of the road, and at times I couldn't see the center stripe. For a while it felt like I was riding in a half inch of water covering the pavement. If I had windshield wipers going full blast, maybe I could see better. But added to the problem was the fog on the inside of the visor. (Next trip I will have pin locks and try Rain-X.)
For some forgotten reason I didn't stop at Fort St. John for gas. Maybe the hard and constant rain had something to do with my decision to keep going. But it proved to be a big mistake; for eventually I realized that I would run out of gas. I slowed down and drove along the side of the highway at 30 mph for the next two hours, to conserve my remaining gas.
I came upon a guy with a motorcycle parked on the side of the road. I had seen the fellow before, and I stopped and offered help. His bike's engine had quit running and wouldn't start again. We stood in the pouring rain for ten minutes, and a car pulled alongside and opened its window. My best guess was a clogged fuel filter, and I suggested the driver might phone a tow truck at the next town. I hated to leave the guy, but there was nothing else I could do.
Half-an-hour later I came to a car parked at the side of the road. I pulled alongside and the lady rolled down her window. Her car had a flat tire, and said the tow-truck was coming. I asked how she managed to make the call. She said she had kept driving until reaching a phone signal.
I was nowhere close to the next gas station, so finally stopped and made camp in a borrow pit. I was 40 miles short of Fort Nelson.
Day 6
July 27, 2023
Nearly out of gas, I needed to hitch to Fort Nelson. But the morning was early and there was not much traffic. So I waited for two hours past daylight, then wandered over to the highway and stuck out my thumb. Ten minutes later the first vehicle approached - and wizzed right by. Another ten minutes, the next one did the same. I couldn't hardly believe it. Surely, way out here, far from civilization, I thought people would be glad to help. I stood there for an hour, while dozens of vehicles passed by - mostly tourists in RVs and pick-up trucks towing trailers. I learned something that morning.
Finally, a couple of Canadians came along in a crew cab - but they too passed by without stopping. With the thought of Canadians not stopping either, I threw up my arms. At that, the truck slowed, turned around and came back. I explained I needed gas. "We don't have room," they said, "but will call our friend in Fort Nelson, and he will come and get you." The bed of the pickup was empty, so I asked if I could just ride back there. "No, we will make room on the back seat." I thanked them profusely, and then thanked them again.
The two fellows were brothers from Vancouver, and were on their annual Dall Sheep hunting trip to the far north. One was a roofer and the other a mechanic. The truck was a 2002 Silverado 2500, the very type I had been researching for over a year - hoping to replace my old Ford truck at home. I learned a great deal about trucks during the 40 mile ride.
The gas station sold 10-liter gas cans, so I bought some snacks and filled my new gas can. Walking back to the highway carrying the bright-red jerry can, a truck pulled up, and a lady rolled down her window said, "You ran out of gas. I'll take you back to your car." Wow! I had not even stuck out my thumb.
"My motorcycle is 40 miles down the highway," I explained apologetically.
"It doesn't matter, I'll take you there. Get in."
I got in, and the lady starting driving in the wrong direction! "Where are we going?" I questioned.
"First, I need to take my kid some lunch."
We drove though town and stopped at a time-worn mobile home. "This is my ex's place," she explained, getting out of the truck with a lunch bag that came from the nearby Tim Horton's.
Back on the highway headed south, I asked Cheryl a slew of questions about her life here in the far north. She worked construction, driving an extra large dump truck - the type with a stairway leading up to the driver's cockpit.
"How did you learn to drive something that big?" I asked. "You must have had special training."
"No", she replied. "I just got in and started driving."
She explained that her job site was 600K from her home, and that she worked two weeks on, and two weeks off, twelve hours a day.
"You mean, you drive 600k to work? That's amazing."
She said that her job site has an alarm siren, triggered by nearby lightning storms. When the siren goes off, everybody has to quit work and shelter in a protected outbuilding. She said one time a lightning bolt struck one of the mammoth dump trucks, and blew out the windows in a big explosion and blew the tires off.
As we were driving south, she kept pointing out things. We passed a little-used turn-off, and she said "There's our old swimming beach. When I was growing up, we used to come here during the summer for picnics."
I told her that my camp is just off the highway in a large clearing. She said, "alright, I think I know where that is." Forty miles south of town, I was a bit skeptical. Even so, when we arrived in the general area, she pulled right in - without me giving her directions.
Getting out of the truck, I offered to pay for her gas, which she declined, and thanked her yet again, saying: "You sure made my day!"
She replied with a big smile: "And you made mine."
Day's mileage: 0 mi. Miles hitched: 80.
Day 7
July 28, 2023
With more than enough fuel to reach the next gas station, I loaded the bike and set off for Fort Nelson - and soon hit fog.
The fog was thick, and my progress was slow. And when I finally made it to town, the fog was so thick I couldn't see much beyond the side of the road. I drove two miles through town without seeing anything. My GPS indicated the town was now behind me, so I turned around and headed back - again without seeing anything. But finally I found a gas station.
After filling the bike, I asked the attendant where I might find something to eat. "There's a Tim Hortons right behind the gas station." he answered. The fog was so thick I hadn't seen it.
Waiting for the fog to clear, I sat in the restaurant eating what I imaged was a typical fast-food breakfast. I wasn't used to that kind of food, but I was hungry - and as my mother used to say, "Beggars can't be choosers."
Setting off, I again drove through fog that lasted another 30 miles.
Reaching Watson Lake, I passed by my old campsite. It had not been too good, so I decided to look at an area suggested by iOverlander. The description said "Follow a straight, narrow, bumpy gravel track about 500m south." What the description didn't say was that the road was steep downhill. Very steep. I made it down, but felt trapped, so tried to ride back up the hill. However, the hill was so loose that my rear tire kept digging in. I carried my gear back up the hill, and spent an exhausting two hours getting the bike up. Each time the tire dug in, I had to dig it back out.
(In retrospect, rather than climbing back up the hill, I might have been able to follow a road headed east, leading back to town. I wasn't aware of that option at that time.)
I followed the highway back to town, and proceeded to my old campsite. I was so tired that I dropped the bike while unloading it.
Day 8
July 29, 2023
Come morning, it took me awhile to get the bike running again. It started fine, but when I shifted in to gear the engine died. I finally managed to drive into town and reach a gas station. After filling the tank, the bike exhibited the same problems.
Unloading the gear and taking off the skid plate, the problem became apparent. Trying to get up that hill yesterday had knocked the kickstand switch loose, and the little circlip - that held it in place - had been lost. I happened to have a spare. I had no circlip pliers to install it, but somehow managed using two small screwdrivers.
I enjoy talking with people. Each has a story to tell, and I always learn a lot. Charley has lived here 25 years, and has seen it all.
"What's the advantage of living here?" I asked.
"Everybody's friendly, and I've had no problems getting work," he said. "My lifestyle is simple, and I have everything I need to live comfortably."
"What about the tourists? I asked. "Do they give you any problems?"
"No, not really. Only a few. I had one guy, a couple of years ago, that made me so mad I was ready to fight. The guy went to the police, and they came and suggested that I calm down. But other than that, most tourists are very nice."
The bike was now running great, so from the gas station I proceed to the visitors center for a long-needed shower. From there I went to the laundromat. And then I decided on a rest day.
Day 9
July 30, 2023
I had gotten gas and a sandwich at the Yukon Motel in Teslin, then at Whitehorse. Then when I reached Haines Junction, it was high time to take a shower and do laundry. Standing outside the building was a deadbeat; the kind of guy who might steal something. However, I needed a shower bad; so I greeted him politely and went inside. He followed me in, and proceeded to show me how to run the laundry machines - what coins to use and so forth. Very helpful.
About then, a woman came out of a shower stall, and quite hastily went outside to her camper. Then, a few minutes later a guy came out of the same shower stall, with a decided look of guilt on his face - a look that said they might have been doing more than taking a shower together.
Never mind. And the "deadbeat" looking guy wasn't that at all. He was a welder, and had a fancy new truck with an oversize welding machine in the back. A very nice guy. Looks can be deceiving. After taking a shower myself, in a different stall thank you, I talked with him for a quite a while, as the machine was busy washing my clothes. It seems that he had won the fishing derby last year with a 38-pound lake trout. He showed me a picture of the fish, on his phone. Man, what a catch! It was on par with the big lake trout that Jenny and I used to catch while canoeing in the sub-arctic.
The establishment had a pressure washer outside, and the guy spent maybe 20 dollars washing his truck. He was a real stickler for any trace of dirt on his baby. And then I decided to wash my bike. I didn't have enough coinage for the machine, so the guy just gave me two one-dollar coins! I took a few sweeps at the bike, but the washer had too much pressure for my liking. And even then, it didn't remove much grime. So I stopped there, while the stopping was good. Then I proceed to the office for more change, then paid the guy back - despite his protests.
From there I rode to the gas station for fuel and bite to eat. I was sitting on a bench, eating, when a fellow backed up his car right up to me, parallel to the motorcycle. That was fine, but he didn't shut off his engine - but proceeded to gas me out with his exhaust - most likely running his conditioner. I don't have a thing against cagers, like some bikers seem to do. But like most people, I frown on inconsideration, where someone is blatantly disregarding the feelings of others. My first thought was to move, except that there was nowhere handy to move to. So instead I put down my sandwich, walked to his window, and made motions that he was choking me with his exhaust. He moved, albeit reluctantly.
Day 10
July 31, 2023
kluane lake is Yukon's largest lake, and the Alaska Highway goes around it. It was a very beautiful ride. I stopped at Destruction Bay for gas and a snack, then the road became rough.
Crossing the boarder into Alaska was quick and easy, but the road continued to be rough and under construction for the next 20 miles. It seems that the winter's cold and storms, combined with the underlying permafrost, played havoc on the pavement.
I stopped for gas and food at Tok, then carried on to the Robertson river where I made camp on - yet another - borrow pit. I picked a place that offered shade from the afternoon sun, the first shaded campsite of the trip.
By and by, a fifth wheel camper pulled up, and parked nearby. There was plenty of room, but the fellow said this spot was the most level. OK then. The couple was from New Zealand and had been touring for the last four years. We had a nice chat, then I retired to bed.
A while later I awoke smelling smoke and meat grilling. The fellow was having a barbecue 20 feet from my camp! The people were nice as could be, but wholly inconsiderate of my safety should their barbecue attract a bear. Even so, I was so tired from the day's riding that I simply went back to sleep.
Day 11
Aug 1, 2023
Departing early, as usual, I enjoyed the ride to Delta Junction where I fueled the bike and bought some breakfast snacks at the gas station c-store. Typically I don't eat in restaurants. They would have better food, but not my kind of food; so its a compromise. And it also saves time. I prefer sitting on the seat of the motorcycle, whizzing along enjoying the scenery gliding past, and breathing fresh air, rather than sitting in a restaurant going nowhere.
Delta Junction seems like a nice town, and it's said to be warmer than Fairbanks. I like to scope out nice places, as to whether I would like to live there some day. This town sits in a pan, and the surrounding terrain is flat as a pancake. The Delta river courses nearby, but it was not visible from the highway. But I think Jenny would agree that living in endless flat terrain would soon get boring. We're used to at least a few mountains thrusting up in the immediate distance, giving contract and providing places to hike and walk.
As I sped along, inching closer and closer to Fairbanks, I started seeing more and more development, with increasing traffic. And when as last I entered the city proper, I found myself in a regular big city that seemed hardly different that most larger cities in the lower 48.
For several days now I'd been having nagging feelings about the health of my bike - that I might have been pushing its limitations too far. The engine was good; of that I was certain. But the bike itself was old, and it's mileage was high - approaching 90,000 mi. Before departing home I had replaced a slew of parts ...but I hadn't replaced everything. And too, I was very familiar with bike's inner workings, but I didn't know everything. And it was those unknowns that were beginning plague my psyche. Some original part failing in a way I had not anticipated, and causing a cascading effect. My inner vision was telling me to turnaround and head back. Fairbanks would be my farthest point north.
I went into a nearby Fred Meyers, intent on buying a few groceries. One look inside, however, and I turned around and went back out. The place was immense and not worth my walking something like a mile inside to find what I needed. So I rode over to a medium sized grocery and shopped there instead.
I was aiming for my previous night's campsite, and when I pulled into the borrow pit, there sat the same 5th-wheel. The couple had said they were moving on, but they were still here. The guy emerged and said that his wife had contracted some minor illness, so they decided to stay put for another couple of days.
I was all right with that, of course; but I said that having a barbecue in bear country is not a good idea, and it's especially dangerous for people camped nearby in tents. "Should a bear be attracted to your cooking, you have someplace to hide - in your 5th-wheel - but the other campers don't."
His reply was "We haven't had any problems with that."
I said politely "Yes, but there's plenty of bears all over the place. They usually keep out of sight, but they can cause real problems."
As mentioned, the couple was very nice, very cordial, and they seemed to get the point, for they refrained from cooking outside that evening.
Day 12
Aug 2, 2023
Yesterday in Fairbanks, I had bought an 8 oz tub of noodles from the deli, and placed it in my pannier box. And yesterday evening I found the tub upside down with the lid off. The contents had spilled. I couldn't clean the mess there at my camp, but had to wait until reaching a proper dumpster. Early this morning I found one in Tok, and used my modest supply of paper towels to clean up the mess.
I crossed the border back into Canada, and passed through the Port of Entry without problems. Now in Canada, I talked with a very pleasant border officer who said he lives on the Canadian side and hardly ever goes to the Alaska side because "there is nothing to see".
A ways further I stopped at Beaver Creek for gas (Fas Gas). I much prefer this to Ida's which can be busy and slow. Dark clouds were building to the south, portending hard rain. A couple of bikers came in from that direction wearing rain gear. So I asked them how extensive was the rain they had just come though, and they said about 20 miles.
I put my rain gear on, and setting off again I soon encountered rain. It came pouring from the sky in buckets full, and it went on for the next 30 miles.
Reaching Haines Junction, I fueled up at the Fas Gas, then continued several more miles and started looking for a place to make camp. Eventually I found a good one, on yet another borrow pit. Not on gravel, but to the side on natural, soft ground. It was the most comfortable camp of the trip.
Day 13
Aug 3, 2023
Approaching Whitehorse, I got gas here. It saved me from going into town proper.
Prior to reaching Watson Lake, I stoped for gas at Nugget City - which was a bit of an ordeal for those who don't know how to run the pumps. Whoever programmed them had a mind of his own. Nice people running the place, though.
Shortly, I left the Alaska Highway and turned off on the Cassiar Highway - and followed that to Dease Lake. This road was rather disappointing. The Alaska Highway features wide shoulders where the trees and brush had been cut back for quite a ways on both sides of the road. That makes for a much safer journey because it discourages animals from hiding close to the highway then racing out in front of the traffic. Not so the Cassiar. This road was narrow and twisty, and with trees and brush growing close on both sides. I had to ride a bit slower and keep a constant eye out for any movement ahead.
At Dease Lake I was getting fuel when a fancy truck camper pulled up to the pumps - but too close, and somehow became wedged against an immovable trash can. The young woman then proceeded to back up, putting a massive dent in the door, to the astonishment of her passengers standing about.
The adjacent store was surprisingly well stocked, and I bought a quantity of food items for my upcoming diner. Then I proceeded to the Lions Campground.
The camp was only half full, and the fee was only $10. I paid $5 Canadian and $5 US, which was all the change I had. I could have skipped rent. There wasn't a camp host and no one to check. But I wanted to support the Lions, and besides, I don't skip rent - whether anyone is checking or not. I did it once, years ago, and am still suffering the guilt. :)
Day 14
Aug 4, 2023
I walked down to nearby Rose Lake to test the water, and was surprised by dozen's of baby frogs leaping from shore into the water. I went back to get my phone-camera, came back and they did the same thing again. They were so cute. The water was warm for swimming but the shallows extended too far.
I had settled in for a good night's rest, when a car drove in, in the dark, and parked nearby. As the the couple were pitching their tent, there voices were remarkably loud. And they stayed remarkably loud until the wee hours of the night. I'm sure they didn't see my tarp, let alone my motorcycle 20 feet from their tent. They acted like they were alone on planet earth.
2:00 am they quieted down and I went to sleep - but then more loud talking two hours later. They were getting up, and I thought: "Good riddance!" But then they became silent, so I thought they had gone back to sleep. Wrong, because then the women started moaning. And for the next long while her moaning became louder and louder. Finally I had enough, so I decamped, loaded the motorcycle, started the engine and pointed the headlight at their tent - as if to say "Surprise! You are not alone after all."
I had located the Rose Lake camp using iOverlander, but am finding that the ap was a mixed bag. Sometimes inconsiderate people find the places also.
Day 15
Aug 5, 2023
Day 16
Aug 6, 2023
the road from Cottonwood Campground to Whistler was beautiful but so twisty that it was actually tiring. And beyond it was crowded with traffic - this being a three-day weekend.
During the crossing, an older gentleman in baggy clothes stood on the bow and began glassing the waters ahead. "Looking for dolphins?" I asked. "Yes" whereupon he launched into a most interesting discourse about the local sea life. Mainly about the Orcas.
The ferry landed and we motorcycle riders when roaring off down the highway in close formation - and stayed that way for a good 20 minutes. Man, did we have fun! But one by one riders peeled off, until I was the only one left.
Day 17
Aug 7, 2023
Day 18
Aug 8, 2023
Day 19
Aug 9, 2023
P1 (First Problem) The bike was running great until I reached Beatty, NV. I stopped to get gas and suddenly the lower half of the bike became engulfed in a cloud of steam. The radiator hose had come off. How long ago I don't know, but it seemed like it just happened. I re-connected the hose then went inside the store and bought a liter of water for the radiator.
After getting gas, I started the bike and rode to the side of the building where I found some shade. I unloaded the luggage, removed the left-side fairing, and filled the radiator with water. Odd that it took nearly the whole liter. After putting everything back together, I went back inside the store and bought another liter of water. Back outside, I started the bike and resumed my journey.
A minute later the idiot light came on, indicating the engine was overheating. I thought: "That can't be right. The engine has not been running long enough to overheat." And the radiator fan was not coming on. Nevertheless, I pulled into a motel parking lot, and there in the shade I removed the luggage and this time both the left- and right-side fairings. I put more water into the radiator, and then bled the system with the right-side bleed screw. I didn't have a socket set, so used a small crescent wrench and pliers.
After re-installing the fairings and the luggage, I was ready to resume the journey - but now the engine wouldn't start! So I pushed the bike across the street and found a patch of shade under a tree fronting the city park. (P2) And there I unloaded the luggage and removed the fairings yet again, and set to work trying to figure out why the bike wouldn't start. I worked for an hour, until a guy named Rupert came along and offered help.
Actually Rupert came along three times, saying he has a shop and all the tools. The third time he brought his wife, Candy, who gave me a home-made cookie. And this time he insisted I move the bike into his shop. So we loaded all my things into his truck, and I pushed the bike to his place.
Rupert's shop was a little bit of heaven. It was spacious, clean, and featured two race cars and a bevy of tools - automotive, motorcycle and aircraft. His passion is racing, and he hits the circuits several times a year.
As Rupert was working on my engine, he said "When doing a repair like this, there is no such thing as quitting. If you can't get the parts, you improvise repairs of the broken ones."
The engine was running again, but the exhaust was somewhat steamy. I hadn't seen that effect before, so I waved my hand into the steam to determine if it was seam or white smoke. It was the latter. I didn't realize it then, but in retrospect the ECT sensor (Engine Coolant Temperature Sensor) had failed. The sensor was altering the engine computer's fuel parameters, causing the engine to run rich (calling for more fuel than needed).
As I was pulling out of Rupert's driveway, the idiot light came on. Again I thought, "That can't be right," so I tooled around town hoping to clear the computer faults. I knew the engine was not running hot. And besides, the radiator fan was not running. But within a few minutes the light went out, so I resumed my journey.
P4 Two miles later the radiator hose came off yet again. And once I had everything back together, the bike wouldn't start. I had a battery powered jump starter, but it didn't work. By and by, a guy stopped and offered help. Joe had another type of jump starter, and was able to start the bike. When he found out I had filled the radiator with water, he said "Bad idea," saying it will over-heat and boil away. He offered to follow behind me on the highway, in case my engine quit.
Blasting down the highway, ahead of Joe, the engine seemed to be doing fine. The idiot light (engine overheating light) had not come on, and nether had the radiator fan. But in reality, the cooling system had failed and the engine was cooking itself. It must have been close to red hot, but I couldn't feel it.
Day's mileage: 314 mi on the Dakar, 58 mi. with Joe.
Day 20
Aug 10, 2023
Day's mileage: 408 mi. with Jenny
Back home, I'm trying to piece together what happened to my cherished "new" engine.
The first sign of trouble was the steam at the gas station, when the radiator hose came off. I think now, that it had come off minutes before, or even longer. The overheating light did not come on, maybe because the Engine Coolant Temperature Sensor (ECT) had failed.
The ECT feeds into the main engine computer (powertrain control module or PCM), which in turn adjusts the engine performance and controls the radiator fan and the engine overheating light (idiot light). Corrosion inside the ECT sensor can cause inaccurate engine temperature readings. Or if the thermostat is stuck open or otherwise compromised, the engine won’t reach its optimal temperatures, and the ECT will give a low reading. And too, if the air/fuel mixture is faulty, due to a faulty ECT sensor, it can cause hard starting.
Either way, if the ECT thinks the engine is cold, the PCM will adjust the fuel mixture to richer, producing the white smoke. And again if the ECT thinks the engine is cold, the PCM will not activate the cooling fan or idiot light.
Bottom line: I should have quit riding in Beatty, when the engine overheating light came on, even though the engine wasn't hot. That should have been a clue that something was drastically wrong. In retrospect, a new radiator hose, a new ECT sensor, and new coolant might have solved the problem.
Also, I was using the wrong kind of hose clamps; the Worm Gear is not recommended for engines because they don't expand enough when the engine becomes hot, so they tend to cut into the coolant hose. The Spring Band type (constant tension) might work better.
Valve Clearances:
- Spec In: .03-.11; Ex: .25-33
- Departure In: L: .08, R: .09; Ex L: .27, R: .29 (odometer 77,571 mi.}
- Return Home In: L: .06, R: .07; Ex L: .14, R: .12 (odometer 87,898 mi.)
I very much enjoyed your latest posts regarding this summers journey. You handle setbacks so well. -Mark M.
- 2023-06 GDR
- Introduction
- Preparations
- Part-1: 11 days, 3,000 mi (Map}
- Part-2: 21 days, 7,250 mi (Map)
- (Total: 32 days, 10,250 mi)