Oh Dalton. You were as rough as they said you were.
I remember naïvely doing a little dance as soon as I hit the final straights of the permafrost on the way north the first time. I felt the worst was over. I thought, "Man, if I've already gone through the worst of it, chances are I'm not going to dump the bike on this ride!"
I was quite wrong about the 'worst of it'.
After the first leg was over, I was in high spirits arriving at Coldfoot's lone gas station on the Dalton. I was happy to see Lechuza had enough fuel economy to make the climb- it's going to use more heading back from sea level than it is going downhill. I arrived with so few miles left that it just had hyphens "---" where it typically shows how many miles are left in the tank. That's cutting it close.
Another rider, Bill, arrives at the same pump on the other side but facing north. We get to talking, and share lunch together. I tell him about road conditions ahead of him, and he tells me he was leaving a day early because there was supposed to be snow on the Dalton the next day. He has a reservation down in Fairbanks that he won't end up using. He then puts it together: I could use it! It's too late to cancel, he's paid anyway, and he's heading 500 miles in the wrong direction! It's perfect for me!
Again, I was naïve to think that this would be an all-good news day.
I travel down the Dalton until I have about 130 miles to go before Fairbanks. It's dusty, the road sucks, and it's even a little hot. I pull over to take a break and eat a pannier-snack dinner as I notice my brakes are wet. Upon further inspection, I find that not only are my brakes wet, they're being dripped on from some grease and oil coming out of my suspension forks.
My amateur diagnosis: dust and dirt accumulated on the forks and I went over some huge potholes. The bouncing from the road caused the forks to press down, pushing the debris into the fork seals, causing openings, causing the oil to leak. They were leaking pretty good too.
I hit a storm and finally arrive wet in Fairbanks and fill up by 10pm. I had cell service to find garages nearby, but they were all closed. I then indulged myself on Bill's private cabin, a $100 / night full size bed in Sven's Hostel.
The next day begins the shitshow.
The mechanic shop opens at 9. I wake up, pack my things, and put them behind the desk in the lobby. No need to bring all my gear to the mechanic if they cannot fix Lechuza that day. Worst case, the bike stays there and I'll stay at the hostel. It then begins to rain.
In the rain, I ride Lechuza to the mechanic's shop. They tell me they have the parts but they're going to replace everything. The calipers will be washed, front brakes replaced, fork seals and oil replaced. It's not going to be cheap. They then tell me that they will not work on my bike until it's washed. The Dalton left huge clumpy deposits of calcium chloride dust all over the motorcycle. It costs $150 to have the mechanic wash it, so I decide I'm going to bring it to a local car wash and spray it with a pressure washer. Thanks to the Dalton, they're located all over town and one close to the mechanic is recommended, but it only takes quarters. I also realize that I had not turned in my key to Bill's cabin. I ride (still in the rain) back to Sven's Hostel, turn in the key, pick up quarters, then ride in the rain again to the car wash.
Turns out it doesn't take quarters, it takes US Dollar Coins only or cards. I use my card. I wash Lechuza for the minimum of 5 minutes to get my money's worth. I then ride in the rain again back to the mechanic where they can get to work.
I'm there all day. I paid for an estimated 4 hours of labor but it takes closer to 8 hours to do. When finally done, it'll be $900.
I pay for the Dalton Hangover then go back to Sven's when I actually ran into Sven himself. He's a Swiss immigrant and business owner here in Alaska. I had one of the most meaningful conversations with him. He's been a traveler and he deals with them all the time. The repairs, which were necessary, were weighing heavily on me. It set me back in time and money. I could not have done a thing about it, but he was able to put things into perspective.
The "pyramid of basic needs" is different when you're an Adventure Motorcyclist. The bottom of the pyramid is the most important, containing: "Water, Food, Gas, Shelter, Motorcycle". Everything else is secondary, or higher up the pyramid. Eventually you need to tend to one of these essential things. Some more than others.
After a great conversation with him, I ride (again, in the rain) to Tok, and to the ALCAN border the next day. After riding more than 1,500 miles in ~5 days, I'm ready to relax. I've checked into the Congdon Creek Campground in Destruction Bay, Yukon Territory, a campsite with an electric fence around it for the grizzly bears.
Upon looking at my electronics and camping gear, they all seem badly worn out. Some files on my 360 Camera are damaged. My bags containing my gear have holes in them. The Dalton shook and scraped all of my belongings like mad throughout the whole stretch. It turns out nothing got through the Dalton without some damage. Not me, not Lechuza, not my cameras, not my gear were spared.
I'm now taking some time off before I set off again for Whitehorse to end Saga 2. I'll be off the grid camping, reading, hiking, and relaxing. I'm almost to Whitehorse but not without some setbacks. Of course, these are just the first of what I'm sure will be many.
JT - 8/7/2022