Also posted here on Detroit Region SCCA's site: http://drscca.org/wp-content/uploads/2018/AlcanStory-1.pdf
We pull into the gas station, a football field sized mud bog with a single pump that says “Diesel only, no unleaded”. Apparently someone drove off with the nozzle still in their car, and they can’t dispense fuel until a new one arrives by plane and bus. Our foggy brains do some quick math, and come to realization that we don’t have enough range to make it to the next gas station, and then back to Fairbanks. “Well, I guess we’re stranded, let’s get some lunch!” we say, walking into the gas station, which oddly serves Vietnamese food. “Better to be stranded here eating Pho, then running out of fuel in the middle of nowhere” someone else says. Turning around and going back isn’t mentioned and probably doesn’t even cross anyones mind. Even if we have to “tap” the fuel tank to get gasoline out of it, or stay the night at this gas station, we will keep going forward and make it to the Arctic Circle. Because this is day 8 of the Alcan 5000 and we’re a group of madmen doing it on motorcycles - the Press-On-Regardless attitude has solidly set in.
The Alcan 5000 is a road rally which started in 1984 and runs from the Seattle area to Alaska. There have been quite a few changes over the years, but in its current form, the rally is a 9 to 10 day event that gets held every 2 years and alternates between summer and winter. While there is a competitive element in the form of a couple daily TSDs or ice races in the winter, the main adventure are the long days traveling through vast emptiness of British Columbia, Yukon, and Alaska, where the roads can be treacherous and the weather unpredictable. Logistics are difficult in this part of the country, and the organizers do an excellent job of planning the route, booking accommodations, and providing support during the event itself. The camaraderie that comes with competing in what is essentially a two week race is fantastic, so everyone taking part in the event feels like a big family.
I’ve learned about the Alcan from a Subaru magazine a few months after I got my Subaru 2.5RS twelve years ago, a car that jump started my racing obsession. The race to Alaska has always been one of those bucket list items for me, and ten years passed before the right combination of life events led to a spur of the moment decision to send in an entry into the rally. Because of the logistics involved, entry opens almost two years before the event, and fills up almost immediately. After spending a couple months on the waiting list, I was officially on the list of competitors in the Alcan 5000 2018!
The amount of preparation required for such a feat justifies the long period between entry deadlines and the actual rally. While the race itself is only 9-10 days, many of the entrants have a long drive to the start and an even longer drive from the finish, turning this into a month-long ordeal. Most of the cars and bikes go through top to bottom servicing before the race - you start with everything new, because it will be worn out by the time you’re done. Some build their vehicles specifically for this race, as was the case with my riding partner and roommate Marten, who took two years to build a beautiful custom BMW “airhead” motorcycle from scratch. After doing a lot of research and soul searching, I decided to go for fun instead of comfort and purchase a KTM 690 Enduro R motorcycle, which is essentially a very big dirt bike. Riding it is akin to sitting on a 2x4 while holding a paint shaker in a tornado, but a few modifications made the ride tolerable while ensuring maximum fun from the light and powerful bike. I did a test ride from Michigan to San Diego, and was as ready as I was going to be.
As the event grew closer, the various Internet forums and facebook groups started to become abuzz with chatter from the entrants. Excitement further grew as teams started converging on the start line of the rally, which took place on Sunday at the Totem Lake Hotel in Kirkland, WA. I pushed the bike into the back of my truck in sunny San Diego and too off up the coast, leaving a couple days to spare and planning to meet up with Marten, who was also getting there a day or so early. As the rallyists and Alcan crew arrived, the atmosphere at the hotel was absolutely magical, filled with stories of rallies past. We had a great time doing last minute prep, laughing about things we all forgot to do or bring, and wondering about the challenges ahead.
While cars in this event operated pretty much independently, the motorcycles are required to “buddy up” for safety. You’re not required to always ride with your buddy, but you should always know where they are. After a couple days in Kirkland we formed our little buddy group that stayed together for most of the event - Marten on a BMW from California, Ishmael from Vancouver on a Triumph Tiger 800, Ryan who rode his Suzuki DR650 (another big dirt bike) all the way from Ohio, and myself. We were all close to each other on the start order and our personalities and expectations from the rally meshed well. While you get to know all 50 entrants during the rally, we spent most of the days as our little group.
Sunday, the first day, was supposed to be easy - one short TSD, followed up 400 mile-ish transit, and another short TSD. With the exception of the second timed section, the entire day was spent on pavement. Weather was good and everyone was in high spirits. Marten and I took off from the start and got to the start of the first TSD with plenty of time to spare and chit-chat with other riders. The first TSD was uneventful, we had something like 8 hours to make the transit, so we stopped for a quick lunch at a gas station about 1/4 mile before the US-Canada border crossing. As we leisurely ate, we saw the customs line grow from a few cars all the way past the gas station. We geared up and jumped into it, spending the next hour baking in the sun and worrying about time. Now it was hot, and we were late, so once we got into Canada, we opened the taps and rode the rest of the transit cannonball-run style - stopping only to fuel and pee. To our amazement, we made the start of the TSD with only 3 minutes to spare - we high-fived each other with a sense of accomplishment! The road of the timed section made it even better, a fantastic gravel road with beautiful views, which was a much needed reprieve from all of the highway riding. We finished the day in Quesnel, arriving after dark and happy to find that the local grill/steakhouse was still open.
Day 2 was incredibly smokey because of all of the wildfires in the area. Some sections were so dense that it was hard to see and breathe, leaving us wondering how the local population managed to cope with these conditions. The roads were easy sweeping paved roads, which would normally come with incredible views, now concealed by the smoke. Many of the riders were changing their air filters at the end of the day - I was happy to find mine pretty clean and thankful that the pre-filter setup was working well. We ended the day in New Hazelton, with a meal at a strange Chinese restaurant, which was an experience that needs a story of it’s own. It’s worth mentioning in general that many of towns are very small, with one or two restaurants not equipped to handle a sudden influx of 100 hungry rallists. We were warned of this and packed some food before we left Seattle, but ended up not needing it aside from snacking on the road. We were not in a rush, so the opportunity to sit down for dinner and talk to the friendly local people was worth the wait.
On day 3, Tuesday, riding got interesting as we headed onto the Mitten road, which started with a TSD and proceeded to transit us through some mountains via tight and technical gravel road. The smoke cleared a bit, but was unfortunately replaced by dust. Regardless, our group enjoyed chasing each other down and realizing how skilled Ryan was behind the handlebars of his DR650. Eventually we made our way back onto pavement and into the Yukon, taking the mandatory picture with the entry sign. While some folks had concerns about security at the hotel in Watson Lake, I can’t say enough about how welcoming the hostess (and owner?) of the hotel restaurant was. Between working the bar all night and having a huge breakfast buffet ready for us in the morning, I doubt she slept at all.
After a short TSD on day 4 the group split in two - the cars headed to Whitehorse, while most of the bikes were to the South Canol road to camp in the Yukon wilderness. The original plan was to take North Canol road, but due to the wildfires we had to detour. Because the rally workers setting up camp now needed to find a new spot on a new road, our instructions were simply to “ride until you see a camp” (somewhere on an 80 mile long road). And what a ride it was! The South Canol is the best unpaved road I’ve ever been on, it is like an 80 mile long stage rally road - an endless rollercoaster of smooth gravel. Absolutely amazing! The camp was set up in a spot that any photographer would love - a clear lake reflecting mountains. Unfortunately the rear rack on my bike has vibrated itself into pieces, so I went to work solving this problem with zipties and duct tape. There were very few mosquitoes and the weather absolutely perfect, so after the repairs were done we spent some time exploring the surroundings on foot. Once the sun fell, we packed into the tents and sleeping bags provided by the organizers. Everyone was exhausted from a few full days, so sleep came easily.
Day 5 started with the remainder of the amazing South Canol road. Once we made it to town, everyone fueled up - a single pump, and pay after you’re done type of affair, which is pretty standard in these parts. After chatting with a friendly forest ranger about the bear trap he was towing, we pressed on to Dawson city, an interesting frontier town with unpaved muddy streets. It was a reasonably short day so the riders took the opportunity to get an oil change and other maintenance items done. The moto rider luggage and spare parts were carried by the support vehicles, and because bikes arrived to the hotel at various times, every night and morning involved an elaborate shuffle of finding the organizers and dealing with bags. After the first few nights most of the riders learned to keep the essentials with them or risk being left wearing their dirty riding gear to dinner and to bed.
On Day 6 we crossed the Yukon river via the free ferry, which was a pretty intense experience. The river is fast and it seems like the landings are being washed away almost as fast as they get built. The “experienced" looking ferry gets carried a 1/4 mile down the river as it makes the crossing, having to power its way back up along the opposite bank. A TSD immediately followed the crossing. After this we rode the Top of the World Highway, which lived up to its name as we felt like the road went right into the clouds. Which were storm clouds in our case. The blowing wind, fog, and near freezing temperatures on an unpaved mountain road made for a white knuckle experience for some. My KTM however was absolutely in its element, making easy work of the muddy road as we had the time of our lives riding past struggling motorists. The crossing into the US was the friendliest border experience I’ve ever had - the customs agent came right out, stood in the rain, and got all of us through in quick order. After a quick lunch in Tok and a short TSD around town we rode to the Copper River Princess Lodge, an absolutely stunning hotel sitting on top of a hill overlooking a snow covered mountain range. The luxurious lodge was a complete opposite of the hotels on the rally up to that point. It was mostly occupied by cruise ship tourists, quite a few of whom were taking pictures of our vehicles in the parking lot. I hope that a bunch of smelly dirty rally riders/drivers added to their Alaska experience.
On Day 7 the group split again, some went to Valdez, while others took a treacherous in-and-out road to McCarthy, an old Copper mine, and returned back to the lodge in Copper River. I was in the latter group. The day started well enough, but quickly got derailed by a power outage knocking out the only way to get gas on the way to the mine. After riding around for a bit and talking to the locals, we flagged down sweep and made sure they had some fuel we can borrow if we needed it. The way to McCarthy is a rough washed out gravel road that ends in a foot bridge for most. However, being on bikes we rode right across the footbridge, a pretty cool experience, and kept going. After fording a small river we made our way up to the mine and explored a bit. It’s amazing how people managed to get huge pieces of industrial machinery so far into the middle of nowhere. The weather cleared up a bit on the way back, so we got a chance to enjoy some views of the mountains. It was another early day, so after dinner many of the bike riders took the opportunity to change their rear tires. Fortunately the support truck had a tire machine and an air compressor, which makes things much easier, even though motorcycle tires can typically be changed by hand. Another amazing experience was in store for us once the sun went down and that evening we saw the aurora (also known as northern lights) come out in full brightness and color, dancing in the sky above us. Another item checked off of the bucket list!
Day 8 was probably the longest day of the entire rally. We set out from Copper River and rode through Fairbanks and up the Dalton Highway to the Arctic Circle. This is a treacherous road, especially when it becomes unpaved further north. Some of its gravel has a lot of grip, while some is like ice, some sections are really fast only to be interrupted by a sudden section of 6” deep potholes. Because this is a major artery there quite a few trucks here as well - they drive fast and use a lot of the road, so you really have to look around corners. Unfortunately Ryan had some issues with his rear wheel bearing falling apart, earlier in the day, and stayed back to fix it. After the fuel fiasco mentioned in the first paragraph, a lot of our riding group went ahead and it was just myself and Ishmael pushing up to the arctic circle. Unfortunately we didn’t realize that the sign was a little bit off the road and ended up missing it by about 30 miles. We rode back, laughing into our helmets, to find Ryan has fixed his bike and just got there - the timing absolutely perfect for a picture together! We rode back to Fairbanks, completing our 16 hours in the saddle, and enjoying some much deserved dinner.
Day 9 was our final day, which everyone was happy about. The weather turned cold and wet. Quite a few vehicles took a serious beating on the Dalton Highway the day before and were looking like they could use some love. The day involved an easy ride out to a control at Chena Hot Springs followed by the awards banquet at an automotive museum next to the hotel. Most of the bikers were shipping their bikes back, so we had to collect our gear and pack everything for a final ride to drop off our trusty steeds. This was more than a little anti-climactic, and I still feel bad about leaving a bike that carried me through such an adventure in a parking lot, I should have ridden it back!
The awards took place at the Fountainhead Auto Museum, which is an absolute gem of automotive history tucked away in a corner of Fairbanks Alaska. Filled with vintage cars still run and drive, it’s the perfect place to end the event like the Alcan. After the points were calculated it looks like my consistency and rally experience has won out - I won my class! The competition was just a small aspect of what made this event so special however. The two weeks of travel and adventure was what it was really about it and it was bittersweet to be saying goodbye to everyone I shared it with.
I can’t imagine that I did justice to this experience with this short story. The combination of competition, camaraderie, beautiful scenery, and vastness of nature one experiences during the Alcan 5000 is truly unique. In ending I’ll say that many were already filling out entry forms for the next Alcan during the awards banquet. Even after a grueling 9 days we were itching for more.