Unfortunately, the trip took an unplanned, unexpected deviation in course…entirely because my bike took an unplanned, unexpected deviation in course.
Let’s pick up where we left off.
Day 15: Fairbanks to Denali
Wednesday, July 20
We were back in Fairbanks for a much needed rest and clean (for us and our bikes). Mike and I also decided to grab some replacement tires, as ours were looking decidedly worn (hard to believe that in just two weeks we went through brand-new tires...a testament to the miles and rough ground we had covered). Dan at Adventure Cycleworks found a couple of used ones for us, so we strapped them to our already overloaded bikes and headed south.
Our destination was Denali National Park, home of the famous Mount McKinley. The views as we approached the park were stunning, but the park itself (at least as far as we were permitted to venture) was a jarring experience in complete contrast: a zoo of people and motorhomes all packed into a character-less parking lot.
We retreated 15 minutes back up the road to Healy and the Denali Outdoor Center campground. This place was a little pocket of paradise: quiet campsites, dramatic mountain views, and a tranquil lake.
The view from our campsite…
The lake (a beaver swam by right after Mike took this photo!)...
Camp cuisine…
Day 16: Denali to the Tangle Inn
Thursday, July 21
The next day dawned a stunner. We tackled the Denali Highway, a road somewhat famed for being a little off the beaten track but not enough to scare off the RVs, which often barreled by at full speed, taking up the whole road. The scenery more than made up for them, though.
Wildlife by the side of the road…
Mt McKinley in the distance…
The road, over 100 miles of which is gravel, was for the most part in reasonable condition, though dusty and rutted. However, just a few miles before we hit asphalt again, we came upon a patch that was in “improvement” mode. Ken and Drew hit it first and called back on the radios in warning, but they were too far ahead for us to understand what they said. We slowed down a little, anticipating perhaps another RV headed our way.
What they were warning us about was some fresh, unrolled, deep gravel—in places up to 6 inches deep. Loose gravel and heavy, overloaded motorbikes don’t mix all that well. My bike started to fishtail, badly. My handlebars started to thrash back and forth. There was no way my little arms could control the force of 400 pounds of bike getting a mind of its own. This was a tank-slapper—my first—and it was to reign this day.
As I looked down at my front tire and saw it point nearly perpendicular to the road, I knew the fight was over. My bike stopped hard, pitching me through my windscreen. Bella Butter Horse then somersaulted end over end down the road. Poor Mike…from his view behind me, it looked as though she landed right on top of me. Thank goodness, she didn’t.
My only memory of the accident itself is the sound of the gravel road scraping along the side of my helmet. I am so thankful that I had invested in good gear to cover me from top to toe, including a full face helmet. Although I would be stiff and sore for a few days, the only real physical damage my body took was a scrape and bruise on my hip bone from the buckle on my pants.
Bella Butter Horse was another story :(.
I know, the road doesn’t look that bad, right? It was!!
Bella Butter Horse’s front end was smashed in—headlight, instrument console, windscreen, GPS, handlebars, and fairings were all pretty much destroyed. Miraculously, the forks and frame were fine, but that didn’t mean I could ride her back to Canada.
I doubt there is a need to describe the devastation that I felt. In a flash, it seemed the trip was over. It wasn’t, as it turns out, but it sure felt like it at the time. Ken, Drew, and Mike were my heroes on this day. They sorted everything while I crumpled by the side of the road, in shock. They even cracked enough jokes to get a smile from me on occasion.
We got lucky in so many ways. First, it's nothing short of a miracle that I wasn't hurt. Plus, the Denali Highway is in the middle of nowhere, but I crashed just a few miles from one of the only motels on the road—the Tangle Inn. After a lot of deconstruction, metal bending, and cable tying of parts, Ken, Drew, and Mike managed to get both me and my bike to the inn in time for dinner.
Ken and Drew, off to retrieve my bike now that we have accommodation sorted…
And, at the inn, we met Brenden and Jim, Anchorage-based motorcycle guides from MotoQuest, who were staying for just one night on a tour. Brenden and Jim happened to have space for one bike in their van. And they generously volunteered to transport my bike to Anchorage (where my insurance company was based). These guys were amazing, funny, low key, and completely onto it. If you ever fancy doing a motorcycle tour (pretty much anywhere in the world), give them a call.
So, within just over 12 hours of the accident, we had removed my gear from my bike, consolidated my stuff with Mike’s, packaged up everything that was not “essential” into my panniers (to travel with my bike in the van), loaded Bella Butter Horse, and were back on the road.
Loading Bella Butter Horse into the motorbike ambulance…
...which left a gap in our convoy…
Loading my gear onto Mike’s bike…
Back on the road, two-up…
The plan? One last excursion with Ken and Drew to check out an old copper mine, and then we would part ways: Ken and Drew heading for the ferry back to Bellingham, Washington, while we headed to Anchorage to finish up the Bella Butter Horse chapter.
