I leave Tok on Day 7 with the goal of riding to Fairbanks which is the gateway to the Dalton Highway. Calling the Dalton a highway is a stretch considering it is really a gravel road.

My first thing in the morning roadside interview is somewhat stilted, I recall being a little reluctant in my quest. It was kind of like I said I was going to Prudhoe Bay and then had to follow-up, but riding in Alaska is pretty lonely with vast stretches of nothingness between scatterings of civilization. To be honest it was very boring, the riding is nothing like the variety of the lower 48!



Approaching Fairbanks the highway ran parallel to an Air Force base runway for a couple of miles with big signs every 100 yards or so saying 'no stopping' or you would be subject to search and seizure! At the time I was going by there were 2 F-18's circling overhead and screaming down the highway, prolly simulating strafing runs!

On the way into town I had noticed a mo'tel on Cushman Street, which is the main drag the highway turned into that looked like it fit the bill. With minimal navigation errors I found my way back to it and got a room for the night, plus a 6 pack of Becks Dark. There were so many rare and delicious treats back then that we couldn't get in Canada!



The TownHouse Motel looked better driving by then it actually was, but I was not too picky! I got the 'corner suite' right by the BBQ storage area. When I got to the room a large fan was holding open the door and drying the carpet, ignoring the fact it was letting the bugs in.

I had looked up a bike shop a few days before and booked an oil change at Northern Power Sports. They were pretty much the only game in town, but they booked me straight in as I was from Canada!



As I only had about 300ish km to drive that day I booked my appt for mid afternoon and was done within the hour. Ray had a once over my bike and tightened a few bolts here and there plus a LOF (Lube/Oil/Filter).

After the bike shop I returned to the mo'tel, had a couple of beers, made a few collect phone calls, a bite to eat and tried to go to bed early in preparation of my big day tomorrow. Sadly my plans for sleep were frequently interrupted by an endless stream of hookers, drug addicts and other undesirables pounding on my door looking for 'Richard' whom owed them all money.

Apparently Richard, an unsavory characters at best, was the long time resident of the mo'tel room I was in, as recently as the day before. The nocturnal visits, featuring offers for 'companionship' and requests for money, drugs and cigarettes eventually subside after 0200 which I believe is the bad guy witching hour.

Tomorrow I will tackle the first leg of the Dalton Highway. I have talked about it alot, and now my bluff is going to be called! I remember being scared s***less!