7/4/22

We woke up, packed up, and got on the bikes by 7:30am. Gustavo wants to get to Deadhorse by 1pm so there will be plenty of time to get on the shuttle bus to the Arctic Ocean. It was cool in the morning, mid 40s from Wiseman. The Brazilians ate some cheese, crackers and sardines for breakfast. We had some terrible instant coffee and then hit the road. The Dalton immediately from Wiseman was paved for a good 10 miles before it turned dirt and gravel again. 

We heard from others the previous day that there was major construction being done about 100 miles north of Wiseman. We would have to follow a pilot car for 16 miles. When the construction is that long, that means that you could be waiting a while for the pilot care to return to take you down the road. If you just missed the pilot car when you get to that section, waiting for it to make it to the other end and back to you could be 30 minutes when it’s a 16 mile stretch of construction. 

We’re making good time this morning. My average speed is about 45-50 mph which is way faster than I’d imagine I’d be going on the Dalton given everything I’ve read and seen online about it. But it’s been confidence building to go this fast. Or perhaps it’s the other way around, I’ve been gaining confidence and hence I’m comfortable going this fast.

The other strange thing about being on this road is seeing the pipeline next to you. You will see the pipeline running parallel to you and see it run up and down the mountain as well. It’s pretty crazy to think about the millions of gallons of crude oil running thru those pipelines.

We start to climb. You can sense the elevation change. The air is cooler. The road inclines. You start to see the valley below. We’ve start to climb the Atigun Pass. This is by far the most dangerous portion of the Dalton Highway. Atigun Pass is approximately 4500 ft high. 

The gravel is a bit more loose here and I can feel it as we climb which means that eventually we’ll descend. I’m honestly just focusing on this road one quarter mile at a time. I’m a bit more caught up with Gustavo. I can see the trail of dust behind him. There are still snow on the peaks of the Atigun Mountains. We continue to climb. At least there are guard rails here on the edge of the road. When I’m near the top of the pass, I am surrounded by dark gray peaks, small patches of white snow sits on some of the mountains. The only color comes from the blue sky and the slightly tinted orange sun. 

At the top of the pass, Gustavo slows down. I come up almost next to him. I have no idea why he has slowed down so much, maybe so his wife can take a photo or video? At this point we start the descend. Again, I keep the throttle and steering smooth and steady, especially thru the turns on the descend. As ride lower towards the other side of the valley, colors start to come back - green grass appear again on the ground and the side of the mountains. Another thing I’ve noticed at this point. There are no more trees. We’ve gone so far north that trees don’t grow here.

We get to the construction zone. We’re the only ones waiting. Maybe ten minutes go by and I see the pilot car leading a pack of cars towards us. We didn’t have to wait too long. Lucky.

The problem with following a pilot car is that you won’t be going very fast. Maybe 25-30 mph. The other issue is the unknown road condition from the construction. When it’s 16 miles long, you never know what you’ll encounter. The pilot car heads out with Gustavo following it first. The road starts off fine - dirt and gravel, then it goes thru various stages of slightly deeper gravel, back to dirt, to bouncy washboards back to hard packed dirt to river bed like rocks and all over again. After about 20 minutes or so, we reach the end of the construction zone. I survived.

We continue on for another 45 minutes and I see Gustavo pulled over in a rest area. We have about 90 more miles to go until we reach Deadhorse. My trip computer said I had 93 miles left in the thank. He knew I needed to use my fuel bladder to ensure I would make it. I contemplate trying to make it without using the fuel bladder but since we stopped, I decide to dump the one gallon into the tank. If I was here solo, I may have tried to go thru the tank to see if I can make it on fumes. 

90 more miles. So close to the end now. I rumble thru another 30 miles or so of dirt and gravel. Then I reach pavement. Nice smooth pavement. Except for some very short sections of gravel, this smooth pavement runs the last 55 miles into Deadhorse Camp. We’ve reached the end of the Dalton Highway! I can’t believe it. After two days of travel and a few weeks of mentality preparing for this ultimate challenge of the trip, I’ve actually made it up to Deadhorse.

We check into our hotel, the Arctic Oilfield Hotel. 

(Photo from online. No snow when we were there. I forgot to take a photo of the hotel!)

There is nothing in Deadhorse beside oil drilling facilities, pump houses and hotels - no restaurants, no movie theaters, no recreational businesses. People are here to work in the oil fields or run the facilities that support the oil workers. The hotels here all cater to the oil workers. So with no restaurants, the hotels are all inclusive with food just like on a cruise ship. My $155 room includes as much food as you can eat and as much food as you want to pack with you to go. Most workers will pack a lunch to bring with them. The hotels provide three hot meals a day but they also provide 24 hours of snacks and pre-made sandwiches and beverages. Not only that but laundry is free including detergents and they even have separate machines for oily and non-oily clothes. 

My room while a bit small is new, clean, highly functional with it’s own private bath. This is definitely the best hotel room that I’ve stayed at in this entire trip so far.

We got in just in time for the end of lunch time at the hotel. After lunch, we go to the Brook’s Supply Store for a photo at the iconic Deadhorse sign.

Not too many people can say they have a photo of them up in Deadhorse Camp. After a flurry of photos, we go to our shuttle bus meeting point. All the land here are private property of the oil companies. We have to sign up for a shuttle bus tour to take us into private property to the pier that touches the Arctic Ocean. We have to supply ID and information for security purposes.

Once we go thru the song and dance, they drive us past a few gates and onto a man-made pier on the Arctic Ocean. From the pier you can walk into the actual Arctic Ocean!

About 3/4 of the people on this shuttle bus are motorcyclists that have ridden up here. There are a trio fro Chicago all on GSs, a solo guy from PA on a Triumph Tiger, us five on our three GSs and Fabian, a Swiss guy who’s been on the road for six years traveling on his 1972 diesel Royal Enfield. I’ve seen Fabian since a few days ago back in Fairbanks when he showed up at the BMW/Harley dealer picking up a new tire. He rode up here after changing his own tire. His Royal Enfield only has four gears and ten horsepower. But he gets 120 miles per gallon of diesel with a total range of about 820 miles per tank!

Up here on the Dalton, just when you think you’ve accomplished something great, you meet another person doing something even more unbelievable. It’s such a common story up here. I’ll have more to tell later.

We’re staying a night here - a well deserved rest. Gustavo tells me that they’re planning to ride back to Fairbanks in one day. I’m not sure I want to do that since that’s almost 500 miles back. But if I don’t go with them then I’ll have to go back solo. I have an important decision to make. Coming up here safely is only half of the challenge. Going back down safely is the other half and I need to decide what to do the next day.