D-Day

The date that has been circled on my calendar for almost a year is finally here. It's go time. 

During that time, I have spent countless hours prepping a bike that I bought specifically for the task, compiling, managing and completing checklists, and borrowing, buying and returning parts, gear, camping equipment, and other necessities. 

The bike was first. Knowing that there was a thousand miles of dirt and gravel on this trip, I knew I did not want to put any of my pretty bikes through that ordeal. I almost bought a used Sportster cheap, and really fell in love with HD Pan America, which is a fantastic machine but plagued with teething problems that I don't need to deal with in the wilderness.

So I bought a used Honda Africa Twin, which ironically has already done the same trip last year, and set to work. Repairs have been made, maintenance has been done, and a host of upgrades and doodads meant to make my life easier on the road ("farkles" in long distance rider parlance ) have been added. Nothing was a last-minute scramble, and that part is pretty well set. 

I've gone through two sets of pants and 3 pairs of boots (which still don't fit) to come up with a good set of weatherproof protective gear so I don't have to keep an eye on the sky and find a spot to pull over, dig out rain gear, put it on, and then sweat in. I now pull a couple vent zippers and collar closed.  I have a nice, quiet new helmet with integrated Bluetooth for music, phone, and comms from the best GPS on the market (more on that later.) I have food, water, and shelter to survive the unexpected for two nights.  I took the whole Beverly Hillbillies rig for a full day ride and set it up in the backyard two weeks in advance, so that I'd have time to make adjustments (and fix the tent pole that I broke.) I ran it out of gas on purpose, to see how far I could actually go.

What has kept me busy since then, and is still not complete, is the mapping and routing. GPS navigation has always been the bane of my existence. Not that I'm not good at mapping and routing; I'm great at it. But getting all that stuff into a GPS is way more complicated than it needs to be, and when it's done the GPS never agrees with what I wanted to do anyway. And the H-D system on my 2015 is the most useless piece of shit ever conceived, incapable of doing anything more complicated than, "take me directly to this bar." So it's always been printed and taped to a gas tank or slid into a tank bag sleeve, and I use the screen to see when my left onto Boondocks Rd. is coming up so I don't have to creep along looking for it for 20 miles.  But I'm trying again to use this brand-new one as designed.     

The overnights and daily mileages have been known for months. Tough ticket reservations (which is most everything in Yukon and Alaska) have long been made. As of now, I have the first two weeks or so in the GPS, most of the later stops and points of interest at least flagged as waypoints, and the last 10 days is basically going to be "go directly home" anyway.

Let's get the hell out of here.

Countdown

[60 Minutes ticking timepiece intro plays]

Two more days until I venture out on the biggest adventure I will ever venture to take. 

Riding to the northernmost point in North America accessible by road has been my BHAG for, say, 20 years or so, and now it's really, finally about to either happen or not happen as fate shall decide. Arctic Ocean or bust.

This trip has made it as close as "looks like next year" at least twice, scuttled each time for reasons equally legitimate and disappointing without so much as a checklist prepared. I've been collecting ideas, clippings, and advice over the years, but that's it. As you would imagine, I'm over the moon that all of it is finally being put to use, and will serve as more than a reminder of an unrealized dream haunting me to my grave.

The process reset again with a new job 2-1/2 years ago, and a concerted effort to get my feet under me, establish my value, and hoard PTO. That led to a casual conversation with my boss last spring, which was met with "then make it happen!" He didn't have to tell me twice. 

And here we are two days out. I've never been more prepared for anything in my life. Donna and I were certain that I would be out of my mind these last 2 weeks, up all night, furiously scrambling to finish everything and solve problems unsolvable in the time I have left. If she didn't end up euthanizing me to put her out of my misery, I would end up climbing onto the bike hours behind schedule with no sleep, an Amazon order shipping to a hotel I hope to be at in two days, and a need to stop at a Cycle Gear, Walmart, and Cabela's on the way.

Instead, last week at this time I legitimately thought I might be sitting here today with nothing to do but wait.  That didn't happen, either, as I do have a few things to wrap up (that's another post entirely.)  But I did spend a nice, relaxing weekend with Donna at the lake, and the bike is 100% prepped, packed, fueled, and ready to go. I have time to write this.  With any luck, I'll be sipping a cocktail Thursday evening and heading off to bed in a state of peace.  

When the route was coming into focus and the daily average became a real number and smacked me in the face, I put in for the extra half day on Friday and will knock out the first 500 under what looks to be perfect conditions.  I will leave Saturday morning from Toledo perhaps in rain, but with a positive attitude and a nice head start.