Headed North - The Lemonade Tour | Page 5 | GTAMotorcycle.com

Headed North - The Lemonade Tour

Amazing stuff. Thanks so much for sharing.

What do you do for fuel? How much do you carry in auxiliary tanks? I look at that tundra and think about the sheer distance to any kind of service or fuel. Do you depart every fuel station with, say, enough for 500kms or more?

I find this incredible because I just can't fathom myself having the balls to do something like this. Kudos.
 
Amazing stuff. Thanks so much for sharing.

What do you do for fuel? How much do you carry in auxiliary tanks? I look at that tundra and think about the sheer distance to any kind of service or fuel. Do you depart every fuel station with, say, enough for 500kms or more?

I find this incredible because I just can't fathom myself having the balls to do something like this. Kudos.

The range on the GS is between 315 kms and 375 kms, depending on all the usual variables. I agonized over fuel, and considered jerry cans (too bulky) and a Rotopax solution (too heavy, not a lot of volume) and the problem I had with both of those is that I would have had to carry an empty container for 95% of my trip, only to use it right at the very apex.

Based on some info I found on ADVrider.com, I went with the MSR Dromedary Bag (http://www.cascadedesigns.com/msr/water/storage/dromedary-bags/product). It ended up being the perfect solution.

1. I could roll it up small and pack it away when I wasn't using it
2. It was lined with polyurethane, which wouldn't react with gasoline
3. It has grommets in each of the corners, in which I put cheap caribeeners, allowing me to clip it to the top of my drybag when I needed it.

It held 10 L, I filled it to about 8 to give the gasoline vapours some space. The only downside was that I had to vent the vapours from time to time, as it expanded in the heat.

It never leaked on me, was pretty indestructible and was a great solution.

A ghetto solution was suggested to me along the way - 2L pop bottles. Washed clean, of course, they can be crushed down when you're not using them so that they're small - they pop right back into place, they're made of polypropylene which is even more stable than urethane and the solution would be cheaper.
 
Did any gas station attendants give you grief when trying to fill the bag?

Nope. Folks in remote regions seem to have their "common sense-o-meter" much better calibrated than city folks.
 
Onwards. After catching my breath, there was nowhere to go but up. There were two river crossings to get through (the Peel River and then the Mackenzie River), and on one of them I got to talking with the ferryman.

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We chatted about the wind, and he was all like "Oh yeah, we call that Hurricane Alley". He laughed it off...



At the end of a very exhausting day, where the sun never seems to go down, where I spent more time considering my own mortality than I thought I was going to, I reached Inuvik.





In Inuvik, all I wanted was a bed. I did that thing where I had spent all day looking forward to the end, and I had my heart set on a bed, rather than a campsite. I got into Inuvik to find...the 45th Circumpolar Festival in full swing. At the big hotel, I discovered only one room available. A jacuzzi suite that cost a billion dollars, but was honestly the only room available in town. As I was humming and hawing, the phone rang as someone was looking for a room. With a look from the front desk, I hung my head and took the room.

I was so tired that I couldn't bring myself to do anything except buy a sticker for my panniers and crawl into bed, but not before some lovely Russians took some pictures.

 
The trip back down the Dempster was less eventful. Up early in the morning, I had the comfort of knowing that headed the other way, I would have more road to work with as I navigated Hurricane Alley. As it turned out, the winds were considerable but not as severe as the day before.

The weather was still good, and so I stopped to take more pictures.



















 
Nope. Folks in remote regions seem to have their "common sense-o-meter" much better calibrated than city folks.

I'd personally be more concerned about what insurance would think if something happened. MSR told me not to put gasoline in even their metal fuel containers (although it seems everyone does). I wouldn't have even thought about using a water bag for gasoline but it looks like a neat solution. If I were a gas station attendant and saw someone filling a bag, nevermind an unauthorized container, I'd probably be at least a bit concerned.

Looks like an amazing trip. I haven't made it into Inuvik myself, yet.

Looking forward to more!
 
Continues to inspire me
 
The trip back down the Dempster was relatively uneventful. Hurricane Alley was fierce, but not nearly as bad as it was on the way up. And this time I was on the other side of the road, so I had more room to work with. Not to mention the gritted teeth and much cursing.

In reflecting on the Dempster, I came away with several things.

- Riders who do the Dempster in foul weather have bigger balls than I do. We've all seen pictures of what happens to the calcium chloride (used to harden the road) when it gets wet. Pig snot was the best descriptor I heard. I know I'm not a good enough off-road rider to have done well had the weather been against me.

- I was lucky. Stories about about guys with tons of dirt experience, on lighter bikes much more suited to the road, who end up being airlifted off the road because something freak happened. Even in good weather, the road conditions change in an instant. I can't count the number of times I went from hardpack to 6 inches of loose sandy stuff.

- I consider the money I spent on tires to be well worth it. In retrospect, I would have bought tires elsewhere and had them shipped to Yukon Honda, as they said they'd be willing to do that for me. However, I can't imagine doing that road on street tires. I only saw a couple of other bikes on the Dempster, always going in the opposite direction, but close to Eagle Plains on the way back down I saw a guy on a street bike, with street tires. They say that in good weather anyone can do the Dempster on any bike on any tires, but I'm glad I took the option to swap over to the TKC-80's.

- This landscape is simply extraordinary. In a world where we're all increasingly connected and digital, the Dempster feels very analogue. From the way the bike felt on the dirt (loose but [mostly] controllable and fun when you got used to it) to the breathtaking silence that's reminded me how noisy and full of distractions my regular life is, this is a part of the world that needs to be seen by those who might appreciate it.

- This is not a place to be conquered, at least not by men such as me. It is a place to be appreciated quietly, where one's small place in the universe becomes really apparent.

- I've said this before about the West and the mountains, that it's refreshing to be in a place where common sense is the thing that keeps you alive. There are no guardrails, no nannystate rules, nothing to keep the masses from imploding. This is a part of the world where if you don't think, you won't do well, and I appreciate that. The only thing tougher than the men who choose to live here are the women.

Anyway, here's a picture of the Downtowner back in Dawson City, after a long day. Let's get back to the trip.



Back to the Downtowner, an expensive night's sleep (but cheap compared to Inuvik) and up the next day. On deck today is the Top of the World Highway, through Chicken, Alaska.

The Top of the World Highway really was extraordinary. It runs the crest of the mountains, so there are valleys on both sides. I love riding mountains, but even with all the riding I've done through the Appalachians and the Rockies, the Top of the World felt different.





And to the border crossing into Alaska!



I heard it said (in the Yukon, of course) that the Yukon is where Alaskans go to get away from it all...

The obligatory shot - yes, Chris the Gnome is still with us...



The little bastard's photobombing everything



Everyone's heard of how Chicken got it's name...

As I was taking a break in Chicken, I heard some locals talking about the road. While I was on it, in particular the Canadian part where it was mostly unpaved, I was thinking about all of the RV's I had been seeing, and wondering how many white-knuckled greyhairs (or German tourists) found themselves in Chicken wanting a stiff drink.

Overheard... "yeah, that makes it the third class A (motorhome) that's gone over this year..."

As in, huge bus-like motorhome off the road. Over the edge. Buh-bye. Remember what I said earlier about common sense?



On the Alaskan side, while stopped for gas, I met Marc. Marc is from France, and he's on his way North.



His 650 BMW was shipped over the ocean, and he's riding around for as long as his visa will keep him legal. Marc's English is better than my french, but I try anyway, and he's so happy to be able to speak French that he's exhausted me in 5 minutes. :)

All the same, we're talking about bikes, and his bike has such a small range, that even with his Rotopax reserve, he won't have enough gas to do the Dempster or the Dalton. I believe in road karma, and so without a second thought I offer him my MSR Dromedary bag. I don't need it any more, and I'm happy to help him out. As mentioned previously, it's a pretty good solution for those looking for a temporary solution to having gas reserves. The grommets allow for caribeeners to be attached, making it super easy to strap to the top of whatever it is that is already on the bike.

Marc's pretty happy.



Last I heard, Marc did the Dalton, made good use of the bag and is back in France, safe and sound.
 


The plan today was to head back towards Whitehorse. Bobbie, who I had met in Whitehorse, had offered to put me up for the night. Happy to offset the cost of Inuvik, and looking forward to human interaction, we agreed to meet at Yukon Honda. The TKC-80s would be coming off to be mailed home, and some street rubber put on to get me home.







The guys at Whitehorse were happy to see me. Tires got swapped no worries, and Bobbie drove me over to Crappy Tire (Canadian Tire for the non-Canucks) for a jug of Rotella 5w40 T6 diesel oil, because it's time for an oil change.

There are potentially 3 reactions to that last statement.

The oil geeks or originalistas are saying "But wait! Not only is that not the oil that's recommended by BMW, it's not JASO MA rated! It's also a diesel oil! Won't someone think of the children?"

The shade tree mechanics are saying "it's brown, right? I'm sure everything is fine."

Everyone else just doesn't care. For this last category, understand that nothing divides motorcyclists more than a conversation about oil. It's tiring, it's exhausting and worse than sitting between a liberal and a conservative at the dinner table. In the end, nobody's opinion is going to change and all everyone else wants to do is to stab themselves in the eye with a fork.

So why would I use Rotella? Because shut up, that's why.

BMW have created a tough position for their longer-distance riders. 5w40 synthetic that's API SL/JASO MA2 rated isn't found just anywhere. At the time of writing, there aren't that many street bikes that call for this oil. Especially out in the middle of nowhere, it just can't be found.

Rotella synthetic diesel oil, on the other hand, is readily available, and at the right viscosity. And though it no longer is JASO MA rated (which for category #3 is the right rating for motorcycle oil), my understanding is that it USED to be. Since Rotella is marketed as a diesel oil, not as a motorcycle oil, Shell stopped paying for the certification. But the formula is still the same.

Bottom line, here were my choices:

1. Run with old oil until at least Edmonton (closest BMW dealership, 2000 kms away)
2. Use oil at the wrong viscosity
3. Use the right viscosity oil that I know works, that doesn't have the right rating on the bottle.

I've been using Rotella T6 in lots of bikes for lots of years. Diesel engines run at high compression (no spark plugs) and so I figure it's good enough. I change oil pretty regularly at 5000 kms, unless the oil is manufacturer spec, in which case the change interval is 10,000 kms.

Anyway, the reason for this huge digression is to point out that on longer trips, roadside oil changes are a thing that still needs to be done. I had packed with me an air filter and a couple of oil filters, so all I needed was a drain pain and I was in business.



Bobbie made burgers on the BBQ, I had a couple of beers and shot the breeze, and Chris did most of the work on the bike.
 


One of the things that I wanted to do on this trip was to take the Alaskan Ferry System. I thought it'd be a great idea to take a break from the riding for a couple of days, and my loose plan was to take the ferry from Haines (or so) down to Vancouver or Seattle (or so). I had read a lot about the ferry, and notwithstanding their insanely difficult-to-use website, it seemed like an amazing way to see the Inside Passage. I got varying recommendations, everything from "don't bother with getting a cabin, just pitch a tent and sleep on the deck because that's where the real interesting people are" to "make sure you get a cabin because you'll want to get away from all the interesting people on the deck".

It looked to be expensive, but in the spirit of "*&^% the cost", I decided I wanted to make it happen. However, it was not to be. The ferry ran on a weekly schedule, and I would have had to either not spend 3 days in Dawson City (which clearly didn't happen) or kill a couple of days in Alaska.

I don't do well "just hanging out", and while The Hammer Museum in Haines came very highly recommended to me, I decided instead to carry on. I figured that it gives me another excuse to come back, besides the continuation of the Dempster from Inuvik to Tuk in a couple of years.

Bobbie had been yammering at me about going to the Liard River Hot Springs, and so since that was more or less in the direction that I wanted to go, I decided to make it so.

On the road that day I saw a bunch of wildlife, including a bunch of bear cubs. Unlike the cagers, who inevitably bunch up like they've never seen a live animal before, I wasn't interested in stopping. Where there are bear cubs, there's a momma, and I can't roll up my windows for safety.

I had an old friend who lived in Edmonton, a friend that I haven't seen in close to 20 years. We were thick as thieves in first year university (college for the 'Muricans) but since about 94 or so, we hadn't really had much contact. He and I had reconnected on Facebook, and I dropped him a line to see if he'd be interested in hanging out. If so, I'd route myself through Edmonton.

He was up for it, but it seemed to me like he was a bit reserved - probably thinking the same thing I was thinking. How would we have changed? Did we have anything in common any more? Would this just be weird?

I had this on my mind as I made my way towards Liard Hot Springs.

At this point, not only have I stopped writing in my journal, I've stopped taking pictures. The scenery is all beautiful, but as happens so terribly quickly, I'm used to it, and it all seems same same.

Looking back, what a terrible shame that is. I'll not make that mistake again. But as you're following this trip, and seeing the mileage each day, day after day, I think you can start to get a sense of the fatigue. This trip really is a marathon, and there's so much mileage to make every single day that I become focussed on where I'm going to end up. In particular in the North, where there's such great distances between outposts, with nothing inbetween, I'm focussed on getting somewhere, and I'm often faced with a choice between stopping earlier than I want to and doing more mileage than I should. I've started missing the forest for the trees.

As I'm writing all this from memory, I'm promising myself not to make that same mistake again. I WILL write, and I WILL take pictures, even if they seem stupid at the time. It's important, because in time those pictures are what's going to prove that Grampa isn't making stories up again.

So no pictures from the road today. Everything was fine, weather was great blah blah blah.

So I end up at Liard River Hot Springs with lots of daylight left, and make camp.





And then it's off to the hot springs!

So, my previous experiences with hot springs tell me that

a) they smell like rotten eggs
b) the local Nicaraguans who are doing their laundry will treat you like you're from outer space.

A bit of a digression, but my only other real experience being in a hot springs was in Nicaragua. A friend of mine and his new bride had sold everything they owned and bought a Ford Ranger with a camper, and went for a little drive. On their way home, they ended up in Nicaragua at a surfing camp, and I decided to go and visit them.

It was paradise - remind me to tell you the Beach Cow story sometime - oh, and the Crazy Canadian Beach Bonfire story.

But one of the things we did was go to a local hot springs, where my buddy assured me that we'd have a great time. They had been the week before, and it was amazing.

Only when we got there, it was the night when the whole village showed up. There were several pools, all lined with concrete, with spillways connecting the one to the other, so that water flowed from the most hot close to the source, to cooler a bit farther away. The bottoms of the pools are mud. I hope. Truth be told, they had a consistency that made me very uncomfortable...

So 6 Canadian gringos show up, the girls in bikinis, and there must have been 40 villagers there, just going about their lives. We are suddenly very, very self conscious, and we looked at each other as we tried to decide if we were intruding. After some back and forth we decide we're going in, and the girls strip down to their swimsuits as we head to the hottest spring.

Where the men are. Only the men. The next pool down is where the washing of clothes is done, the next one is where the washing of still fully-clothed bodies is done, and the next one down is where some women and girls are hanging out.

We show up and just tromp all over their system. We were polite, but we must have seemed like a circus...

Anyway, this was not like that.

Firstly, there's a long, long boardwalk over the marsh to get to the springs.





At the springs themselves, it's built up with great changerooms and a lounge area. The source is over on one side, and there's a waterfall into the cooler pool. It's quite civilized, and really quite a treat. Everything was very Canadian - clean and orderly, and I really wish that I had had the ability to relax a little bit. I felt a bit pervy taking pictures, but I tried to avoid taking pictures of people.





The water was amazing. A local told me the trick to swimming in the hotter water is to dive to the bottom, or circulate water from the bottom up to the top. The colder water is more dense, and sinks to the bottom. The stuff on the top is the agonizing stuff, and by mixing it becomes tolerable.

Back to the tent site, and in bed with the sun still high in the sky...
 
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Ah great writing - had not followed this earlier due to the time shift.
Oddly Aussie GF and I were caging many of the same roads also in July 2014 from Jasper north, Cassiar, Top of the World etc.

We opted not to do the Dempster partially for time restraints and ended up having enough time to do Yellowknife...fires n'all.

You mentioned S W Alaska "next time"....for sure.....Valdez, Wrangell St. Eiias and Kenai Fjord were total highlights as were Muncho Prov Park in BC ......
The thread is here for some fill in's for you.
http://www.gtamotorcycle.com/vbforu...e-on-the-bucket-list-for-touring-destinations

You are welcome to any pics here if they fill in for you - including wildlife .....we were stunned by how much.
https://picasaweb.google.com/113408...aBCYukonAlaska2014?authuser=0&feat=directlink

There is sooooo much in that chunk of Alberta, BC, SW Alaska and Yukon intersection - it IS a chore to get there ...we opted for train to Edmonton to save that long driving stretch and was a good decision.
Be great if there was a deal to put the bike on the train as well.

Kid and I are going more southern section in June and picked up some tips tho we are not camping. Still I have some concerns for those enervating distances and heat worries me tho I will ride squid over 30 degrees on pavement.

I found doing 950 km days for the James Bay ride not so bad with long hours of light but doing distance day after day for 24 days....wondering if we are up to it.You really captured the "fatigue"..and "pushing on to get there"

Oomis ...take the time to sit down with good headphones and enjoy this series.
Will be a superb visual fill in for you and maybe friends and family.

http://www.stromtrooper.com/photography-videos/220537-vid-series-v-strom-round-trip-tx-ak.html

I was simply blown away by it....especially the Alaska section.

And thanks for your insights....very refreshing and honest....it ain't all roses but it it sure is worth it.
 
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Interesting question. More coming in the next post, but here's an answer.

I'll say, first off, that zero effort on either side went into maintaining a relationship. We knew each other in university, but hadn't seen each other since. We got connected on Facebook, along with a number of other people that were in that circle of friends at that moment in time, but we had no history together in that time.

I was actually a bit nervous. At the risk of talking about feelings on a motorcycle forum, when I messaged him I wasn't sure if it was going to be weird or not, but I figured that if it was, no harm no foul and we'd just get on with our lives.

I was also afraid that he would have remembered our friendship differently than I did. That his friendship with me wasn't as big a deal to him as I remembered it being to me - sort of like "he's not that into you". Which, again, would have been fine, if not a bit disappointing.

But *&^% it, nothing ventured, nothing gained, and by halfway through our first beer it was clear that we were on the same page. One beer turned into very many more, and there was a rooftop involved.

More to come on that.
 
Reminds me of a high school reunion I ended up at against my better judgement. Met my first cousin who I had not seen since high school at least 20 years.

We had been close then but went in different directions and then much to my surprise after a long chatty afternoon realized we'd both ended up as tech business owners taking very different routes to get there.

The whole event surprised me....some class mates hardly changed ....some were jaw droppers....she went where and does WHAT!!!
Head of the Texas school board you say!!!! ....this about a girl I'd swear would end up an Ontario housewife.

I think you are correct....nothing ventured....

well we know that each time we on the bike and head out :D

Once more thanks for insights.
 


Up and camp is broken, and I'm headed towards Edmonton.

There's not much route planning to be done at this point. I literally punch in Edmonton into the GPS, and I take the only option I have. I'm really feeling the remoteness now, especially now that I'm headed towards something.



Today is the most active wildlife day so far. At least that I've noticed - don't get me wrong, I like animals, it's just that I'm acutely aware of how not fun it is to be on the receiving end of nature.

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Wherever there's a car stopped and silly tourists pointing their cameras out the window at a cute cub, there's a momma around somewhere, and so I just make with the throttle.







Not many interesting photos today - another mileage day. Sitting here in front of my keyboard, I'm really regretting not having done any writing. The little things at the end of the day are lost, and that's what makes for a good ride report.

Sorry.

Tomorrow's going to be fun though.
 

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