Sunshine, sulphur and flying white water

White water rafting down the Yellowstone River is a great way to start a day. After an overcast start the sun comes out and soon we are paddling our way along an American Icon. White Water is flying in over the front of the boat but we are confident in our guides ability to navigate the river and keep us safe even if very wet. It is a great way to spend a couple of hours before setting off for a day exploring the park itself.

The first National Park in the world Yellowstone covers 2.5 million acres. It contains such a variety of wilderness that you would need weeks to see it all. In our little time staying in the park we have time to visit some of the highlights and some of them visit us. Herds of Bison are visible clearly from the back of the bike. Grazing and obligingly swimming across the Yellowstone river, which makes a great photo. The Bison wander across the road without any care for the cars and RV’s. Deer are more cautious taking their time to choose when to leap across.

The thermal and sulphur pools that thrust their way to the surface of the park making some areas look like the gates of hell. The ground is white and orange and brown. It bubbles, moves and erupts all to its own pattern. Yet turn around and there are pine trees, lakes, wild flowers and wildlife unperturbed by any of the instability in ground around them.

The timber built Old Faithful Inn dates from 1904 and was constructed to provide a first class hotel in the park. In 1904 this did not include en suite bathrooms, and the hotel remains unchanged today. It is our overnight destination in the park, and it sits right next to Old Faithful herself, the highly reliable geyser which erupts about every 90 minutes expelling thousands of gallons of boiling, flying white water up to 150 feet into the air. It provides a unique back drop to our post riding beer.

The next morning we spend riding through the park taking a roundabout route to eventually lead us out of the park at Silver Gate over 100 miles later. As if Yellowstone is not enough ahead of us is either the Beartooth Pass or the Chief Joseph Highway and for some riders both! Beartooth is a dramatic and winding mountain pass and is a stunning ride. It is narrow (for a US road) and has countless hairpins (or switchbacks for American readers) as it climbs around the mountains and lakes. At the top of the pass the lookout point is inhabited by a family of chipmunks who have trained the human visitors to feed them nuts. For this they reward the visitor by taking the food from their hands or even sitting in their hands while eating. They are certainly fattening up for the hard winter ahead.

The ride down the far side of Beartooth is a real tester and reveals just how capable the GS is in all circumstances. The twists and turns lead us back to the valley and a stop for “World Famous Banana Cream Pie” and while world famous might be a bit of an over claim it is certainly excellent and well worth the stop. Some of the team then take the turn for the Chief Joseph Highway as if Beartooth isn’t enough and take on the extra 90 miles of road up to Dead Indian Pass and back.

At Cody we are in the real west. The home of Buffalo Bill is awash with Stetsons, cowboy boots and pick-up trucks and a fair smattering of “Howdy’s”. In the UK “You are a complete cowboy” is not a compliment, but here it is met with a “Why thank you sir” We have time to visit the Buffalo Bill Historical Centre and the Cody Fire Arms collection which has the largest collection of Winchester Rifles in the world before spending an evening at the Rodeo.

The nanny state, Health and Safety Culture doesn’t seem to have reached this part of the Wild West yet. The rodeo bill includes girls under 12 barrel racing – This involves girls as young as 6 riding “quarter horses” flat out round three barrels and then boys under 12 steer riding – yes this is boys under 12 riding a young bucking bull! They do wear what look like ice hockey helmets and a padded jacket, but that’s about the only nod to the nanny state. A few leave the arena limping, some leave smiling but all of them look proud to be part of this wild west tradition.

All the bikes are running well with only a small list of minor jobs to be done in Tucson. A few sets of rear brake pads have been changed (Dalton dirt tends to wear them prematurely), Scottoilers topped up meaning no need to adjust any chains yet, along with engine oil on a few bikes and we have had one puncture to deal with. Beyond this the bikes have behaved perfectly so far. Long may it continue.

From Wyoming we are heading into Utah and Red Sandstone Canyons and then on to Arizona.

If you have had enough stunning scenery and visiting world heritage sites there is always the World’s Biggest Truck

Canada continues to wow us all as we ride on from Jasper. Edith Clavel Mountain, Lake Louise, Athabasca Falls and the Columbia Ice Fields are all in a single days ride. There is hardly time to take breath before then next natural beauty assaults your senses. To continue our theme there are yet more bear spots including a juvenile Grizzly just off the side of the road. This is probably the most dangerous spot as somewhere out of our vision is almost certainly a very protective mother. Bike engines are left running in case a swift exit is required. We also encounter another Smokey Bear but this time in the form of an impeccably dressed Royal Canadian Mounted Policemen.

The Mountie is intrigued with our journey. To be fair so is nearly every-one we meet. A few ex-pat British recognise the number plates, but most start by asking where we are from, then where we are going. At this point one of two things happens. When you say Argentina or Tierra Del Fuego either

a) they look blank, either unable to comprehend the journey or not sure what US state Tierra Del Fuego is in

or

b) they say WOW! and follow up with a whole host of other questions: “How did you get the bikes here?” Flew them into Anchorage: “How long are you on the road?” 19 weeks: “Do your tyres last the whole trip?” No – Our Metzelers are good but even they need changing en route: “Are there any ladies in the group?” Yes one riding pillion and one riding her own bike: And one rider was asked “Would you like any more ladies in the group?” However this was with a big chuckle and what appeared to be a brief nod to a wild and mis-spent youth. The lady concerned had also just explained that she eats at this particular restaurant because she and her friends get the seniors discount.

And so after one day packed with sites to see, we have another, although this is one of contrasts. Something for all the family so to speak. Three Unesco World Heritage Sites (including our overnight destination) and for those with simpler tastes “The World’s Biggest Truck” And boy is it BIG! And its Yellow! And its BIG! Our overnight stop is on the banks of Waterton lake at the heart of the Waterton Glacier International Peace Park which straddles the Canada / USA border. Deer wander freely through the town seemingly un-worried by us or the other visitors and the click and snap of cameras. It is a haven of tranquillity and we do our best not to disturb it.

And so we are already at our last night in Canada. With some symmetry our Trans Canada Expedition has also just had their last full day in Canada before arriving in Halifax. For them it is the culmination of an exciting and successful ride, but for us it is just the first country of many to come. A short ride in the morning takes us in to the USA at a quiet and sleepy border post. Sleepy until the final rider is asked to “Step into the office, Sir”. A few years ago he crossed from Canada to the USA at a land border similar to this one. Despite being admitted with no problem, somehow the US Immigration have recorded him as refused entry! They are therefore not that keen to let him in this time. However an explanation, the production of his old passport, a little Irish charm and after 15 minutes he is in. Hopefully this is not an omen of borders to come.

We ride on through the Glacier National Park on the famous Going to the Sun road. The road is lined with wild flowers and despite overcast skies and cool temperatures we are treated to uninterrupted views of St Marys Lake (Bit of a film star the lake – The Shining, Blade Runner (Directors cut) and Forest Gump) and of Logan’s Pass at the peak of the road. We meet two fellow Brit’s from Leeds on the road. They are cycling the circuit of the USA having started in New York travelling anti clockwise (I think?) They were as surprised to see us as we them. As they pedal away up the steep incline some of us feel a bit humbled, but it doesn’t stop us firing up the bikes and overtaking them on the hill with a cheery wave.

Overnight we are at Bigfork in Montana, The Big Sky State. Bigfork is an arty, hippy town on the banks of Flathead Lake. It has great café’s, a Museum, a Playhouse (closed that night) and an unusual bar that attracts unusual people. On a previous expedition we met a school bus full of teachers, all ladies, all in pink, many playing the spoons on a ladies day out to “celebrate summer”. This time as we are leaving one of the guys spots some ladies dressed as cowgirls, braided hair, Stetsons, boots the lot. Well we are in Montana after all. However parked outside (is that the correct terminology?) are five horses. These girls are not dressed as cowgirls, they are working cowgirls. A photo not to be missed, we introduce ourselves with all the subtly we can muster, as heroic overland bikers. So taken are we with the horses, the outfits and the opportunity for genuine cowgirl photos we fail to spot that we have just completely trashed the hard work of the two local lads who had clearly been chatting up the girls and plying them with beer all evening. After five minutes we wander away into the gloom delighted with the meeting and our haul of photo’s with just a slight feeling that we also need to put some distance between us and the two local lads who’s evening we have just ruined.

In our pattern we are continuing to head south now towards Yellowstone National Park, where we have two days to explore the park, see Old Faithful perform and maybe even get to do a little White-water rafting.

Black Bears, Grizzly Bears and Smokey Bears – It’s a Bear thing

Having entered the Yukon we get a real taste of why they say it is bigger than life. Everything about it is vast. The rivers, mountains and vistas all defy description. Signs saying “Next services 200km” are the norm. After a night in Whitehorse, named for the rapids that the gold rush settlers couldn’t sail through, we are heading east along the Alcan Highway. It stretches ahead of us for a 1,400 miles but we are just going as far as the Sign Post Forest at Watson Lake.

Started by a lonely GI in the 40’s who was working on the Alcan it now has over 60,000 signs, and the task was to find the one Kevin and Julia left on their Trans Americas Guinness World Record ride. After a night in remote cabins we are off down the Stewart Cassiar highway signed “South to Alaska”. There is a strip of Alaska that runs down the coast several hundred miles and we are running parallel to it. Bear spotting is the order of the day, and various techniques are tried. Slow and steady staring into the bushes; Fast and catch them by surprise, or ride normally and wait for one to walk out in front of you. By then end of the two days running the highway only Tim is without a bear spot. Although he does have the most magnificent photo of an Elk swimming to shore!

We have a day off in Stewart which is a true old frontier town. It is at the head of the Portland Canal which is the most northerly ice free port on the west coast. Stewart is a mile from the border with Alaska and Hyder, another tiny frontier town. Looking almost like a Disney recreation it is in fact the real thing, with wooden sidewalks, dirt roads, a few old shops selling guns and feed a bar and a great welcome sign that reads

“Welcome to Hyder, Home to 200 happy people and two or three old S…t heads”

We visit Salmon glacier the fifth largest glacier in North America. Obligingly it appears through the mist and cloud as we arrive on the dirt road. With fish and chips at the famous Bus in Hyder the rest of the day is spent catching up on blogs and checking over bikes having finished the worst (best?) of the dirt roads for a while. The only thing left to do is to visit Fish Creek the best bear spotting point around. We arrive at 7.30 and after a couple of hours patience we are rewarded with “Jaws” coming up the river. Jaws, a Grizzly named for a loose flap of skin on his jaw as a result of a fight, obliges us by romping around the river and pulling salmon out at will. After three or four he has had enough and wanders off into the growing gloom of the dusk. As we wander back along the road, next to the stream a black bear pops his head up to see what’s going on, sees four bikers and decides discretion is the better part of valour and disappears back to the creek. Obliging wandering along for two or three minutes just a metre or two away providing more opportunities for what are now very gloomy photos.

So as a group we are properly bear’ed out. The next days is then over kill as the best spot was SEVEN bears and most people saw at least another two or three as well as Elk and Moose. How fickle we are that two days ago we were desperate to see them and filling the camera memory cards with blurred photos of what could be a bear or more likely is a rock, and now we stop smile and think well that’s not a very big bear and ride on!

The ride takes us back to a bit of civilisation and Prince George. Two separate groups of riders also get close encounters with bears of another kind. This time its Smokey Bear, CB slang for the Police! Having been warned about US and Canadian Police cars having forward facing speed radar in their cars three riders are stopped. Fortunately some shared Irish Heritage, Military Service and a bit of eye lash fluttering and they all get let off with warnings. Obviously I am not saying who was fluttering their eye lashes as all the stoppee’s were male and all the police were male, but whatever works in these situations is good.

We are riding towards the Jasper national park. Wilderness has been swapped for farm land and giant bales of hay are scattered across the fields. The road sides are lined with pink, yellow and blue wildflowers and the back drop is the Rockies. It is all pretty stunning. Stops at Mount Terry Fox (look him up – great and brave man) and Mount Robson, the highest peak in the Rockies, provide coffee and ice cream but no real respite from the never ending beauty of the day.

In Jasper we are taking a day to ride Mailgne Lake, the Cable Car and photograph the Deer wandering between the cabins. This is the only night where we stop in the same place as our Trans Canada trip, and we had been promised that they had left us something here after they passed through a few weeks ago. Our anticipation is slightly dampened when we find it is two bags of crisps, six beers and a bottle of mayonnaise.

Which reminds me I must go and light the Barbeque.

Isn’t North the wrong way?

For most of this epic ride the route is South and More South. But on a few occasions North is actually the way to go. Leaving Anchorage on an overcast but dry morning is one of those days. We ride out of the city as a group with Fairbanks our destination for the night. The group sticks together to mark the start of the ride as far as Sheep Creek Lodge where we stop for coffee and riders set off at their own pace in smaller groups. Two years ago the whole area was wreathed in smoke from huge forest fires, so it is a relief to have uninterrupted views of the Denali National Park and Mount McKinley.

Before we left Anchorage though we were once again treated to the incredible hospitality of the Pterodactyl Bike Gang and the Alaskan Machine Gun Club. A morning firing everything from a Magnum .45 to a Tommy Guns, AK47’s, a .50 Calibre Rifle and a homemade 30mm cannon mounted on a trailer (all legal in Alaska!) is followed by a great barbeque at Chucks house, attended by a range of local bikers. Some are old friend and some are new friends, and we are grateful to all for their hospitality.

From Fairbanks we continue to head north to Prudhoe over the next few days. The Dalton Highway is the only road to take us up to Deadhorse and the most northerly road in the Americas. The Dalton is, as always, tough and terrifying when wet and stunning and rewarding when dry. We have a mixture of both on the ride north. Our overnight stop is Coldfoot Camp, now made famous by the Ice Road Truckers TV series! Their gift shop is now adorned with Ice Road Trucker branded tat, but they say tourism is slow even with the TV series. At Prudhoe, we are short of time and only a few riders make the Oil Field Tour with the chance to dip their toes in the Arctic. Otto climbs three steps to get a better angle for a photo and as always some-one shouts “jump”. He does, and lands on the uneven surface twisting his foot and heel. In some pain he is taken to and checked out by the Prudhoe Bay Medical facility. “Rest for a few days and see how it is” is the advice so he is in the van!

Now we start heading south. The ride back down the Dalton over two days is in better weather and passes smoothly. We stop at the Arctic Circle and also at Gobblers Knob which marks the official end of the Pan American Highway according to many, for team photos. As we come back past Fairbanks we swing into town to collect one rider who had been unlucky enough to damage his bike on the ride north and take Otto to hospital for a thorough check up. It is bad news. Multiple heel bone fractures, requiring an operation and 6 weeks recovery. He is devastated. We ensure he is set up in accommodation and in communication with the team in the office and then must say our goodbyes temporarily, but hope he will be back with us down the road.

We take a new turn for 2011 on this ever evolving ride and go to Chicken and on to Dawson City in Canada riding the Top of the World Highway. This magnificent dirt road starts in the valley’s following the river and then climbs to a ridge which it runs along for miles to the border. You really do feel on top of the world. The ride would not be complete without a stop at Boundary (site of the original border) for “The best coffee in Boundary”. Boundary actually only had three buildings to the whole place and so it’s not that big a claim! The coffee stop is decorated entirely in stickers and business cards of previous travellers, on the walls, the door and ceiling. Hardly an inch of space to spare.

We make our first border crossing, which couldn’t be easier or more courteous thanks to the Canadian Officials and ride on to Dawson. To get into town we must cross the Yukon River on the small ferry which chugs back and forth non-stop in the summer. Dawson City looks like it has just been dragged out of the Wild West of the 1800’s. Boardwalks on the sides of dirt roads and bars with swinging saloon doors are all authentic and not a Disney recreation. Getting in the spirit of the town most people visit Diamond Tooth Gertie’s Gambling Hall for the Can Can show, which is highly entertaining. Breaking with the theme there is also a very good Geek Taverna in town!

So we are one week into our mammoth journey. Challenging and eventful, we have another 18 weeks to come. Bring it on!