2 cents an acre - The Easy Way

[Brian A]

We had coffee and breakfast with my friend. Her kids were up and we talked and joked around with them for a few minutes. Soon enough we had our gear on and were ready to hit the road. Oh, did I mention it was raining? Not hard, but about what we had gotten used to. A decent light rain. But not near enough to make a fuss over.

With our rain gear, helmets and gloves on, and the bikes loaded, we said goodbye and in short order were headed back south on The Richardson, but only for about 1/2 mile. We took the left that put us on The Alaska Highway. We would stay on The Alaska Highway until we reached Tok (rhymes with Coke) about 105 miles on down the road.

The Alaska Highway was built during WW II to connect the lower 48 with Alaska. It was opened to public use in 1948. Originally 1,700 miles long, it has seen many reroutes and numerous sections straightened so that today it is 1,387.  With our morning ride to Tok we would cover a whopping 7% of The Alaska Highway.

To be honest, it was kinda boring. Trees lined the roadway and it was on and off drizzle or light rain. No mountains to see but we did see 4 or 5 mooses (or "meese" if you perfer).  Big critters those mooses!

Yes, I know... the plural of moose is moose. I actually was curious and took a few minutes to read about why moose =/= meese, but goose = geese.  English is a crazy language.....

Anyway, we rode to Tok, seeing a few moose and probably about 5 million trees along the road. The weather cleared up some as we got near Tok and while we didn't know it at the time, we were done with the rain for the day and some great riding and great views were in store.

Speaking of "store", we stopped to buy gas and went into the convenience store for some snacks. I had my go-to Monster Vanilla Light and a Clif Bar. Also bought a good sized bag of trail mix. It was only $2 or $3. That was a steal! It was great trail mix. Trail mix is usually pretty pricey. Mill and I both thought it was a great deal and great trail mix.

A guy pulled in to buy gas in a 1989 Mustang. (considered the 25th Anniversary Edition). I walked over to talk to him. He had bought the car locally. It had been in a barn, unmoved for several years. It was in very good shape and low mileage (about 30K IIRC). He was proud of it.

Somewhere along the way, I don't remember if it was before we got to Tok or after we left Tok, we came upon more road construction. We had about a 10 minute wait, so we got off the bikes and talked to the worker holding the sign.




Mill took a break, sat down, crossed his legs and got his Zen thing on.




When we left Tok we hit The Glenn Highway which would take us back to Glennallen, this time arriving from the east, rather than the north. This section of The Glenn Highway from Tok to Glennallen is called "The Tok Cutoff".

The Adventurous Motorcyclist book had recommended a ride down Nabesna Road which was a left turn between us and Glennallen.  Nabesna Road is 42 miles long. Dirt, gravel and a few stream crossings. Built in 1933 to provide service to The Nabesna Mines and to bring out the ore, Nanesna Road is one of only two access points into the Wrangle - St. Elias National Park.  The Wrangle - St. Elias National Park and Preserve is the largest single tract of land managed by the National Park Service.  Total area: 13,176,000 acres or 20,587 sq miles.

It wasn't too long before we slowed and turned left onto Nabesna Road.  The ride was a blast. Being off pavement again, for more than a short distance, was so much fun. The bikes continued to do great and we were treated to some beautiful views.




We were fortunate and saw two Trumpeter Swans out on this one little lake.







We continued on, enjoying every mile. We came to one decent sized stream crossing. The State does basic maintenance on the road, which in the case of the stream, I think that meant dumping loads and loads of gravel. And then some more gravel.

And maybe a little bit more.

Both Mill and I got squirrelly - going and coming - when we rode into the deep gravel to cross the stream. Neither of us fell over but we both missed a decent opportunity to do so.

Nabesna Road officially ends at a private hunting lodge. Nobody was around to say "Hello" to. We noticed the road continued on, so we rode on. We didn't make it far. The road got a bit muddy and a metal pipe was exposed and all dented up. We could only see so far and not knowing what was beyond, we decided to stop there. Neither of us felt like taking time to get a Vstrom unstuck from a big mud hole. Nor did we want to risk falling and breaking a leg or breaking a motorcycle while trying to cross the pipe on wet, muddy tires.

End of the road. For us.



Mill had bought two of those long Slim Jim sausages, with an equal length of cheese packaged right along side of the Slim Jim. I had the bag of trail mix. We stood there and had a snack and something to drink. It was a really fine time. And some great stuff to see.

This reminded me of Idaho. That is one big chunk of granite right there.



We turned the bikes around and head back out. We stopped now and then to enjoy the views.




The speed limit on Nabesna Road is 35 mph. I think we broke the law a few times.

We hit the Glenn Highway/Tok Cutoff and continued on west. We arrived for our second stop at the Hub of Alaska Maxi Mart at Glennallen.
Gas and a snack and a chance to shed gear. The weather was warmer and we were both a bit over dressed.

When we left Glennallen we would be back on The Richardson Highway, headed south, for our night in Copper Center.

[KevinB]

I've tried to refrain from sullying all the excellent ride reports from everyone with my Mongo-esque "Me like the pretty pictures and words!", but I really want to express my gratitude and admiration to each of you for sharing the great adventures.

[Brian A]

I've tried to refrain from sullying all the excellent ride reports from everyone with my Mongo-esque "Me like the pretty pictures and words!", but I really want to express my gratitude and admiration to each of you for sharing the great adventures.

Thanks for the kudos KB.
I too enjoy reading of other folk's travels.

And with that, let's go finish out day 5.

[Brian A]

After a nice break at The Maxi mart, we got our gear on and headed south on The Richardson. We only had about a 15 mile ride to reach our destination for the day: Old Town Copper Center Inn and Restaurant.

With the weather much better, we continued to enjoy some really nice views. The afternoon of Day 4, when we stopped to view the pipeline and the ride on to my friend's house in Delta Junction, along with the ride we were enjoying then, the part of Day 5 from Tok to Copper Center, would be the best weather we had for the week.


With such a short ride, we were in no big hurry. We pulled off at a roadside stop.

A pic of Rose Hips bush.



An afternoon of these clouds was much appreciated when compared to the low, gray clouds we had seen so much of the time.




Mill had a fly on his jacket sleeve.



I was lying on my back in front of Mill's bike for the week. I took a pic.




Back on the bikes, we cruised along.
We had not known ahead of time that the short ride from Glennallen to Copper Center would give us some great views of Mount Wrangell.





It was a beautiful scene. Mount Wrangell is a shield volcano, highest peak: 14,163 feet. We had been on the far side of Mount Wrangell on our ride out Nabesna Road, but had not been able to see it due to the peaks closer to us. Wrangell is covered in a huge ice shield that remains year round. The largest glacier on Wrangell is Nabesna Glacier whose melt water is the source for The Nabesna River.

Another view.



And another for good measure.




After soaking up the spectacular views we rode on and soon pulled into the parking lot at Copper Center Inn.  It was a really nice place.
Nothing fancy.
Nothing pretentious.
Just good.

We ate dinner in the restaurant. Awesome good food.

I noticed this hanging on the wall.



I asked about "Ashby". Apparently I was the one and only "Ashby" the folks working there now had ever checked in and we all wondered if I might be related to George Ashby.

In 1922 Florence "Ma" Barnes bought what was then known as Hotel Holman. She renamed it Copper Center Roadhouse and Trading Post. When Ma Barnes died in 1948 she willed her estate to an orphanage in Valdez. The orphanage turned around and sold the property to George I. Ashby. He then took over operations. George died in 1979.

I did a fair amount of research and best I can tell, if I am related to him, it is somewhere way, way back in the past, beyond any info I could find.

This painting sat on the mantle.




After dinner we walked down to the Klutina River which flows behind the Inn. It was cold, and fast flowing. It looked like it would be fun to ride down in a raft or kayak.




It was late in the afternoon and we walked around for just a few minutes. Across the road from the Inn.





We walked back to our rooms for the evening. We had this view of Mount Wrangell. 

from ELO's song "Mr. Blue Sky"

Mister blue, you did it right
But soon comes mister night creepin' over
Now his hand is on your shoulder
Never mind I'll remember you this
I'll remember you this way.

[Brian A]

Soliloquy: A soliloquy (from Latin solo "to oneself" + loquor "I talk") is a device often used in drama when a character speaks to himself or herself, relating thoughts and feelings, thereby also sharing them with the audience, giving off the illusion of being a series of unspoken reflections.

I remember learning about a soliloquy in my senior year of high school.
1979-80.  Ms. Jackson's class.   Advanced English.
We were studying Shakespeare. Macbeth to be exact.
We had to memorize Macbeth's soliloquy. I can still recite it to this day.

I guess, technically speaking, this is not a soliloquy. But it sorta kinda fits, so I'm going with it.


I mentioned earlier that the ride down The Alaska Highway from Delta Junction to Tok was kinda boring. And that is true. It was kinda boring.

It was during that boring time that I got to thinking about riding.
And music.
Riding and Music.

At one time I had the Bluetooth setup in my helmet. A little speaker against each ear. Piping my favorite tunes right into my ear canals. With 500+  songs on my iPod, and my iPod sitting in front of me in a Ram Mount, I could literally ride for days and never listen to the same song twice. It was great.
Or so I thought.

I love music. All kinds of music. Well, not ALL kinds. I hate certain kinds. Like that stuff where some guy grunts a bunch of sounds that I assume are words, but nobody, and I mean NOBODY, could ever have any clue what he is saying (not singing) unless they already knew the lyrics. I hate that stuff. Despise it. But otherwise and for the most part, I enjoy music. Many different types of music.

I can't even begin to play a single instrument.
When I watch Derek Trucks play a guitar, or Elton John play a piano, I can only imagine what it might be like to be able to make an instrument of wood and strings produce such sounds.
When I listen to somebody like Don Henley sing solo, with nothing but a piano to accompany him, It's the same thing. How can one man produce such incredible vocalizations?

Music is amazing and intriguing to me. It is salve for a wound. Fuel for a fire. It can calm or energize. I think there is a reason armies have gone to battle with music playing.

Music guides thoughts. It directs my memories and influences my imaginations.

Music is unique among sensory inputs to the human brain. It has been shown, repeatedly, to bring about memories and create social interactions in Alzheimer's patients who were otherwise essentially non-responsive.

So yeah, at one time I had the Bluetooth setup in my helmet. But I took it out and put it in a box and put the box in my closet. And that is where my Bluetooth listen-to-music-while-you-ride setup remains to this day.

That is what I thought about during that boring ride from Delta Junction to Tok:  If I love music so much (and I do) why did I do away with it when it comes to riding my motorcycle?

What I realized is that music was, for me, taking away from the experience of riding my motorcycle.

When I look at my life over the course of weeks and months, there is no time that I am more alone than when I have my ear plugs in, my helmet on, and am riding down the road on my motorcycle. Short rides don't count quite as much. It's the longer stints in the seat that really carry the weight.

100+ miles. An hour or two in the seat. Nothing but me and the motorcycle.
No music.
No TV.
No other people talking.
No dogs barking.
No neighbors cutting the grass.
Nothing else.
Just me. And my thoughts. And my recollections. And my imaginations.

No music to taint the time alone.  Nothing to steer my thoughts.

Complete. Mental. Freedom.

And so it was, during that boring ride from Delta Junction to Tok, that I ruminated on the matter and talked to myself (out loud at times), and I chuckled about the whole matter.

I snickered at the conscious awareness of the mental and emotional freedom that living in my own little "helmet world" provided.

I smiled because I was on my motorcycle, on a boring stretch of road, and while the road was boring, I wasn't really bored. My mind and my thoughts were free. Free inside my helmet world. Just as they had been since I took the Bluetooth setup out of the helmet and put it in a box.
And I was glad that I ride motorcycles. Glad that I have those times alone, in my own helmet world, to let my thoughts go wherever they may.

And then I think I saw a moose.

And then I think I started to sing 'North to Alaska', out loud, inside my helmet.

And I laughed at myself because I realized I could not do Johnny Horton any justice at all.

[VWCarlos]

Sometimes I like music when I ride and sometimes I don't. I do sing when I ride and I often wonder if the people I see out in their yards can hear me as I go by.

I enjoyed reading your ride report. Thanks for sharing.

[Brian A]

Sometimes I like music when I ride and sometimes I don't. I do sing when I ride and I often wonder if the people I see out in their yards can hear me as I go by.

I enjoyed reading your ride report. Thanks for sharing.

If they do hear you it probably makes them jealous. You out riding a motorcycle and singing. With them just standing in their yard.

Glad you are enjoying it. Stick around.
Still two more days to report on.

[fmlstewart]

It's cool you found the Ashby's connection. I was stoked to come across Stewart Crossings, and Stewart River, etc... Reminds me of how small the very large and vast world actually is.

I used to never ride with music. Mainly because I obsessed over ever tick or sound I heard. I was convinced I needed to hear those things in case I was about to experience a break down. Then I realized, wind noise can be pretty annoying. I sometimes appreciate the monotony of it, but I also appreciate the distraction of music at times, and the ability to call my wife while I'm riding. Your Bluetooth unit may not have had it, but mine has a cool feature they call the "OFF" setting, for when you don't want it "ON". Kind of like a gun, I'd rather have it and not need, than to need it and not have it. Jus' sayin'...

( Seriously Brian, I'm not laughing AT you! I'm laughing WITH you!)

Good stuff!

[Brian A]

Your Bluetooth unit may not have had it, but mine has a cool feature they call the "OFF" setting, for when you don't want it "ON". Kind of like a gun, I'd rather have it and not need, than to need it and not have it. Jus' sayin'...

( Seriously Brian, I'm not laughing AT you! I'm laughing WITH you!)

Good stuff!

Thanks Lincoln.

Oh I have already thought:  "If it wasn't me writing it, and if I was reading this, I would think 'That guy is dumb. The thing has an "off" button.' "

There are times I did enjoy the music, but honestly, I don't remember a time since I removed it when I have found myself really wishing I hadn't.


Day 6 is up next.

Spoiler Alert!

We ride to Valdez.
And it rains.

[Brian A]

The room at Copper Center Inn had something no other room we had stayed in had: a device to move air. There was a gizmo with two fans, maybe 6" in diameter, mounted in a plastic housing with a few buttons to select speed and if you wanted the little resistance heaters to come on. It mounted in the window and blew nice, cool air into our room.

Seems no place in Alaska has a ceiling fan. And no place we stayed had any form of air conditioning (cooling). When it is warm just a few months out of the year I guess A/C is not a good investment. If I lived there I am pretty sure I would be on Amazon ordering me a bunch of ceiling fans, and maybe a small window unit or two.

Anyway, we slept good with the fans blowing in cool air.

Soon after we woke I stepped outside and took this pic of Mount Wrangell. This time the peak was visible and the base was in clouds. I guess if I could somehow stitch the two together I would have a nice pic of the whole thing.



We ate breakfast in the restaurant. They sure did serve good food. An older fella (maybe mid to late 60s) was there drinking coffee. We struck up a conversation with him. He was a very friendly guy and shared a few stories about the place and the area. I really enjoyed talking to him and listening to him.

After the conversation we paid our bill and walked back to the room to get ready to go. I remember Mill and I, once again, discussing how friendly that guy had been and how friendly pretty much every person we had interacted with had been. I guess maybe I was a little surprised. I hadn't expected folks in Alaska to be rude or anything like that. I think maybe I had expected them to be.... I don't know..... hard. Sort of "keep to themselves" kind of people.
Such was not the case for us. Everybody had been really, really friendly. At the risk of stereotyping, it was like they were all Southerners.
Open, friendly and generally seemed to enjoy talking and often times telling a story or two.

I found myself pretty much liking the folks in Alaska.

We got ourselves ready to ride and put the hard cases on the bikes and slowly rode out of Copper Center. It had been a nice visit but it was time to hit The Richardson Highway again and head to Valdez.

The weather was kinda crummy again. Lots of low clouds and not much opportunity to see the mountains around. Once in a while we'd get a decent view.




And a little while later, another decent view.




The ride from Copper Center to Valdez was only about 110 miles. Even with breaks, that ride might take no more than 3 hours. We had a whole day to fill.
No worries. We had a plan.

We would turn left off The Richardson and take The Edgerton Highway to Chitina.
From there we would take McCarthy Road to its end in McCarthy.
From there we would ride across a foot bridge and ride an old dirt road to Kennecott Mines National Historic Landmark.
Then we would backtrack and take The Richardson down to Valdez.

Lots to tell about from this day:

Guys from Israel sharing coffee with us.
Crossing the Kuskulana Bridge.
"Why in the world would they put a culvert way out THERE?!"
One hard case would leave the bike and slide down the road.
For the second time on our trip, I would run across an object with direct ties to Trussville, Al.
and.... it rained.

No time tonight to get into it all. The rest of Day 6 will probably require 2 or 3 updates.

I'll leave you with this for now....

Just wait until you see the snow tire setup on this thing. Now don't go cheating and do the Google thing. Even if you sneak and do it the interweb will know and you will steal some of the Ride Report Mojo.

[Brian A]

I enjoy riding with Mill.
We had general plans for the day.
We knew where we were starting from, and where we would be spending the night.
We knew the route we would be taking.

That makes it all sound very structured. But it never really felt that way. Not at all.
We just rode. And stopped whenever we wanted to. Laughed and joked a good bit. Very laid back. Very casual. Very easy.
Nice.

I would say I am very fortunate that I have that same experience with most all my riding buddies. It makes the experience(s) all the better.

When we left Copper Center we went looking for a road that was a turn off The Richardson Highway within about a mile of where we hit the highway.  It was supposed to be a dirt road/trail that went 20 miles or so off into the woods, all the way to Klutina Lake. Said to be at MM 100.5 if memory serves me.
Well, despite several passes back and forth and a few visits to the GPS, we had no luck. I have looked at maps since being home and fact is, I think we sat looking at the road twice. The name of the road sign did not match the name of the road given in the book so we (understandably) assumed it was not the road we were looking for. We threw in the towel and headed south. We had bigger fish to fry.

About 20 miles south of Copper Center we turned left onto The Edgerton Highway. Immediately I recognized the view as one I had seen quite a few times in various print and online "tourist" resources. I didn't stop to take a photo because I knew countless already existed.

The road was straight as an arrow and according to my odometer, the distance I could see ahead to where the road took a hard turn to the right was a tad over 6 miles.

Link to random internet photo of this stretch of road.

http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FPsQAk-ZoKw/VlHh91Xi9aI/AAAAAAAAI50/6dvOye3DotM/s1600/201507-dag7-edgerton-highway.JPG

The Edgerton is only 33 miles long and ends in Chitina.  The sky was pretty cloudy and there wasn't much in the way of pretty scenes to warrant a stop for pics so we made the ride to Chitina without stopping.

Chitina. (pronounced: Chit-na) Well, there ain't much to it. A credit card only gas pump that sits in a gravel lot.  A liquor store.  An old building converted to a hotel.  The Chitina Emporium (which I think is a gift/nick-nack shop). A ranger station. A smattering of residences. A covered roadside pavilion. That's about it.

We stopped at the gas pump to buy gas and at the pavilion to use the bathroom. Then were back in the seat and headed down McCarthy Road.

McCarthy Road starts at Chitina and ends 60 miles later at McCarthy. It is a rough gravel/dirt road that follows an old rail bed. Lots of potholes and washboard and some sections that are nice and smooth and straight. It was a fun ride.

About 15 miles or so from Chitina we came to the Kuskalana Bridge.

The Kuskulana Bridge is pretty spectacular. It was built in 1910-11, during wintertime (with temps down to 60 below 0 F). The bridge was urgently needed to get copper out of the Kennicott Mine area. The bridge spans 525 feet and is ~240 feet above the Kuskulana River.

Pic of Mill and the bridge.



And just the bridge.




The river below the bridge flowed fast, through a narrow canyon with walls of near vertical granite maybe 100 feet high. It was a menacing looking thing. Something about it. It just looked intimidating.

Side note - my single greatest regret involves this bridge and an opportunity we did not know existed until we got back to Anchorage and were talking with the folks at the Motoquest shop. It was then we learned there is a steel grate foot bridge underneath the road surface that we could have accessed and walked out on.
I would have LOVED to have done that. I KNOW it would have made my stomach do flip-flops, being able to look down through the steel grate and see the river roaring >200 feet below. Man I hate we did not know at the time. That would have been really, really neat! Oh well. Maybe that will be an excuse to go back one day.

Random internet photo of the steel grate foot bridge. (sure wish I had my own to share!)

http://www.terragalleria.com/images/np-alaska/wrst37012.jpeg

In any event, it was a cool bridge to ride over. Mill took this pic of me as we rode across the bridge.





After we crossed the bridge is was a fun 45 mile ride on to McCarthy. My right hand/wrist were giving me problems that morning. I stopped and told Mill to go ahead on and wait for me at the end. I was going to take some Ibuprofen and ride a bit slower for a while to see if I could avoid making things worse. I would see him when I got there.

I stopped a few times to take some pics. The sky had cleared a bit and there were some good views now and then.




I don't know the name of this peak. If I was to name it I'd call it "Old Flat-Top".




I thought this was especially neat. The various layers of different colored material.



I arrived at the End of McCarthy Road to find Mill sitting there talking to some fella who knew a lot about the area. There was a big gravel lot where folks parked (mostly tourists and outdoorsy types I assume). Mill and the fella who knew a lot were right near the road.  I rolled to a stop and joined in the discussion. There was a bridge across a small river that was originally intended (by the Park Service) to be for foot traffic only. I'll jump to the part that matters: things changed and we were free to ride our motorcycles across it. Slowly and respectfully.

We putted across the bridge and had no problem easing by the occasional person on foot and nobody gave us a second look.

On the other side of the bridge was McCarthy. First settled in 1906, McCarthy filled the role of recreation area and supply depot for the Kennicott Mines. Quite a few old, historical buildings remain, converted to eateries, coffee shops, gift shops, etc.  McCarthy is now a small touristy and outdoor recreation (fishing, hiking, bicycling,etc.) area today.

Also across the bridge is........

Rigor Mortis.

You know about it from the pic in the last post. Clearly cobbled together by a guy who was willing to get the job done with whatever resources he had available. I have to assume the standard wheel/tire setup was for summer use. But take a look at the round thing on the truck bed. Metal spokes bolted to the end of the axle (somehow??) That was his winter "snow tire" setup.



The "tires" were a most discombobulated mess of various metal parts bolted to what appeared to be two big pieces of very thick conveyor belt material.
I figure he did a full swap with the two big changes in seasons and managed to putter around in the snow OK.

I can't imagine it would be good for more than a few miles per hour.



We stopped for a bathroom break then rolled out of McCarthy on old dirt road - clearly an old railroad bed - headed for Kennecott Mines National Historic Landmark.

[Brian A]

The ride from McCarthy to Kennecott was only 4 miles or so. Easy ride on a hard dirt road that was the old railroad bed from way back in the day.

There were two "Kennecotts":
The Kennecott mines where copper ore was mined.
The mill town of Kennecott where the copper was extracted from the ore.

I have noticed two spellings: KennIcott and KennEcott. I saw something somewhere about which and why, but I didn't really care and it doesn't really matter to me.

It is a really interesting area. I will use info direct from the National Park Service information document on the Kennecott area. Read it if you want to. Skip down if you don't.

Side note - it is another reminder to me just how strongly motivated some men are and the great lengths to which they can and will go in search of fortunes.

In the summer of 1900, prospectors Clarence Warner and "Tara n-tula" Jack Smith were exploring the east edge of the Kennicott Glacier. As they drew closer to the limestone-greenstone contact, along which US Geological Survey geologist Oscar Rohn had predicted copper would be found, they were amazed by the magnificent green cliffs of exposed copper. Samples from their discovery, the "Bonanza Mine Outcrop," revealed up to 70% pure chalcocite, one of the richest copper deposits ever found.

Mining engineer Stephen Birch, in Alaska to look for investment opportunities for the wealthy Havemayer family, began buying up shares of the Bonanza claim. However, without a way to transport the copper to market, it was worthless. Some said building a railroad from the coast, across mountains, powerful rivers and moving glaciers would be impossible. Others offered a glimmer of hope. The Havemayers collaborated with J.P. Morgan and the Guggenheim family, forming the Alaska Syndicate, to build a railroad and develop the mines. In the fall of 1907 the Alaska Syndicate hired Michael J.Heney, builder of the White Pass & Yukon Railroad. For the next four years his crews worked relentlessly, building rail bed and bridges through difficult terrain at temperatures down to 40 degrees below zero. At the same time, Stephen Birch was in Kennecott developing the mining claims. By hauling an entire steamship, piece by piece, over the mountains from Valdez to be reassembled on the Copper River, he was able to bring equipment in by dog sled, horse and steamship to begin mining ore even before the railroad was finished. The first train left Kennecott in 1911 just ten days after the railroad was completed, filled with $250,000 worth of copper.

Kennecott was a place of long hours and hard, dangerous work. At the height of operation, about six hundred men worked in the mines and mill town. Paying salaries higher than those found in the lower-48, Kennecott was able to attract men willing to live and work in this remote Alaskan mining camp. Miners often worked seven days a week, coming down only for the rare holiday or to leave Kennecott.

Mill workers and miners came to Kennecott only to work, living in bunkhouses with little time off, often sending money home to their families around the world. Despite the dangers and grueling work, the Kennecott workers mined and concentrated at least $200 million worth of ore.
Reaping profits fueled by America's high demand for copper, Kennecott Copper Corporation invested in mines in Chile and the lower-48. By the time the Kennecott mines closed in 1938 the corporation had grown into one of the largest minerals companies in the world, due to the perseverance and ingenuity of its founders, investors and workers.

A few pics...

Mill took this pic of me as we rode into the mill town.




looking back down the road we had just ridden in on.




'cause you gotta have 'lectric.



Inside the huge power house.




For the second time since we had left Anchorage (other time was at Tangle River Inn) I saw a fire extinguisher hanging on the wall. Recognizing the label on the bottle I walked over and looked at the tag. Yep.

Amerex. Trussville, Alabama.
Amerex produces about 2.5 million fire extinguishers each year. I know exactly where two of them are located in Alaska.



Mill and I had coffee and a snack at a little tourist focused shop. We sat on a deck in the back and had a view of the glacier and the moraines.

Moraines? 

"A moraine is any glacially formed accumulation of unconsolidated glacial debris (soil and rock) that occurs in both currently and formerly glaciated regions on Earth (i.e. a past glacial maximum), through geomorphological processes."



Wow! This view was amazing. Countless, and I mean untold numbers of piles of rocks lay in front of us. It was a truly impressive site. One I had never seen before.



It is hard to capture it all in pictures. The area was HUGE!  And yes. As mentioned in the info display photo above, you could occasionally hear rocks crashing down from one of the piles. Somewhere.   Even though we could hear them and looked for the piles from where the sounds were coming, we never saw any rocks falling, only heard them.



Now get this... so while Mill and I sat there drinking coffee and having a snack on the deck, we both noticed waaayyy out there what looked to be a culvet. A big pipe in the middle of all these rock piles. We tried to figure out WHY?! Why in the world would anybody put a piece of pipe way out there in the middle of all that mess?

If you look close you can see it in this zoomed and cropped pic.



We never did come to any rational explanation and for that matter, we never would have.

As we were getting ready to leave I walked back into the gift shop/coffe place and ask the girl working there about "the pipe". She was talking to a guy about her age, both mid 20's I'd guess. She was really nice looking and I figure he thought the same and was not going to pass on the opportunity to chat with her. He also worked in the area and both knew all about "the pipe".

I wasn't a pipe. No pipe at all.

It was 100% natural and was the result of ice melting. A chunk (ball?) of ice had been there and when it melted, it left the arched pile of rocks and dirt looking just like a pipe was in place supporting them.  Go figure....


With our curiosity satisfied, Mill and I got on the bikes and headed out of Kennecott, back through McCarthy, across the narrow bridge and hit McCarthy Road on our way back to Chitina.

I gave Mill the lead again.

The sky was worsening and a few sprinkles began to fall. There was little traffic on the road and in some stretches we easily topped 70 mph. My hand/wrist were no bother any more and we had a good time riding back towards civilization.

A day or so earlier one of the bolts that was used as the main security point for my right hard case had worked loose and was now spinning freely. That meant when I tried to tighten the big hand turned knob to snug down the hard case, once I got to a certain point, the bolt would just spin and I could tighten it no more. Not a problem on smooth asphalt but since that time whenever we rode rough roads I had to grab the throttle every 5 minutes or so with my left hand and reach back with my right hand to snug the loose knob back down.  (for the record, this was the only problem we had with either bike over the course of 7 days riding)

On the way from McCarthy to Chitina, there was one particular stretch of road where I waited a little too long. I reached back and the knob was gone.

You can guess what happened a mile or so further on down the road.

Will pick up there for the next update.

[griff]

Thanks for taking the time to take us on this awesome adventure you guys had.

[Brian A]

Thanks for taking the time to take us on this awesome adventure you guys had.

Thanks for taking the time to read it, and for taking the time to thank me.

Now, let's talk about that hard case thing.....

[Brian A]

So there I was, banging along through a pretty rough stretch of McCarthy Road when I reached back and found the knob was gone. I didn't know for sure how long it had been missing, but I KNEW I had just ridden some rough stuff so I made an assumption and continued on. I would reach back frequently to make sure it was still there and would raise up to check via the rear view mirror.

The frequent checks slowed me allowed Mill to get ahead by a 1/2 mile or so.

The sprinkles began to turn into a light rain so he pulled over and so did I, to put on our rain jackets. I told him about losing the knob and he asked if I wanted to secure it somehow. "Nah." I said. "Been through some rough stuff since I lost it and figure if the case was going to come off, it would have come off already. I think it will be fine."  (The case would have had to bounce about 2 inches straight up to clear the bolt and the road was just rough which seemed to do no more than cause it to rattle and vibrate)


Rain jacket stop.







Fortunately the rain wasn't real heavy so it wasn't a big hassle. We thumbed the starter buttons and were back on the road.

Alaska has a lot of these things called "frost heaves".  Think a series of small scale roller coaster hills. They are ridiculously bad in some stretches of highway. I seriously think you could hit them just right, at speed, and get both tires off the ground. Matter of fact, I am quite sure you could.

Well, McCarthy road had a few as well. We hit one at about 40 mph. It didn't rattle and vibrate the right side hard case. But it was more than enough to loft it that 2 inches necessary to clear the bolt. I heard it sliding down the gravel and looked in my mirror to see it doing the same. I braked and turned around. Mill was in front and didn't know what had happened. He continued on.

I picked the case up and inspected it. No real damage at all. The bracket tab that went over the bolt was a little bent, but otherwise you'd have never known it had left the bike. I slid it back on the rack, pulled my little kit of tools and other handy items out of the other case and dug out a piece of para-cord. About that time Mill pulled up and I told him what happened.

Within a minute or two I had the case secured with the cord and we were back on the road.

The rain was on/off the remainder of the ride back to Chitina. When we got to Chitina we stopped at the pavilion for a break.

At the pavilion.



There were two other guys there, car travelers, who broke out more serious snacking material. They fired up a little Jet-Boil and broke out some snacks. Soon they had two small shiny metal cups, about the size of a shot glass.

One of the guys asked if we'd like a cup of coffee. We said yes to their offer and the four of us began to talk. They were from Israel. They had flow into Anchorage, bought the Subaru they were driving and would spend two months touring around (not just Alaska). At the end of two months, they'd sell the car, one would be headed back to Israel and the other would be going to Hawaii (friends or family there? Can't remember). They were super nice guys. Very friendly.  I wanted to tell them both how much I respect and admire Netanyahu but decided I'd leave that aside and just enjoy the talk and the coffee.

Their coffee is not like our coffee. Much smaller amounts and sweetened with a good bit of sugar. It was very good. We all had a few cups and then it was time to say our goodbyes.

We all wished each other well, shook hands and Mill and I got on the bikes and rolled away. We stopped a 1/4 mile down the road at the big gravel lot with a gas pump to fill up our bikes. The two guys from Israel went past while we were filling up. They blew their horns and waved.

With the gas tanks full Mill and I hit The Edgerton, headed back the way we had come in. Within a few minutes we saw the two guys ahead in their little Subaru. The driver had his window down, waving and giving us a big "thumbs up". We passed them on the left, blowing horns and waving as we did. I could see the smiles on their faces when I looked over.

I gotta say, that was a cool moment. Really neat. I'll always remember that moment and something tells me they laughed about it and they will remember it too.

We arrived at the intersection and turned left, headed for Valdez.

And it rained. And it continued to rain. And we rode. And continued to ride.
Except when we stopped.

Like we did here. To take a picture of this glacier. Worthington Glacier.




And then we rode. And Mill took this picture of Worthington Glacier. And me.




On we rode. In the rain.




We began an ascent that would have us cross through a gap in the Chugach Mountains: Thompson Pass.

Thompson Pass has a few claims to fame.
* Average 552 inches of snow each year. Most snow of any place in Alaska
* 974 inches of snow fell during the winter of 1952-53. The most snow ever recorded in one season at one spot in all 50 states.
* December 29, 1955 - 62 inches of snow fell. The most ever recorded in a single day anywhere in Alaska.

It did not snow on the afternoon of August 4, 2016.
It rained.
And the wind blew. Pretty hard. Hard enough to make a motorcycle weave around in an unpredictable manner.
And the temp was low 50's and I got a little cool. Not bad. But the coolest I would be during the 7 days we rode.

Once across Thompson Pass we began the descent that would take us all the way down to a few feet above sea level and our ride into Valdez.

But before we made it to Valdez we stopped for a few pictures. Of us. And our bikes. In the fog and rain.







Mill took a selfie.




We motored on into Valdez and checked into our hotel. The Mountain Sky Hotel. It was the nicest place we would stay while on the road.

We ate seafood across the road at Alaska Halibut House. The fries were average. The fish was awesome.

Somebody said there were some mountains visible from Valdez. Not so much on that day.

Mill and I went back to the room. We showered and watched some TV and just relaxed. We would wake up the next morning for our last day of riding in Alaska.