Border Crossings

We had to cross the US/Canadian borders four times on our trip. I was a little concerned because I was carrying a firearm (the 12-Gauge Shotgun).

The first crossing from Montana into British Columbia was routine. I had filled out all of the paper work for Canadian Registration, on the Web, and I also had registered the gun with US Customs. The Canadians checked my record and found nothing objectionable so they let me through.

When we got to the Yukon/Alaska border the US agent there, when I reported that I was carrying a firearm, asked me if I had registered it in Canada. I said "Yes" and he said go on through. That took all of about 2 minutes.

The Alaska/Yukon border crossing was just about as quick. The border agent let Erica and me through without a second glance. I reported the gun but he had no need to see it or the paperwork and he let us through.

When we got to the British Columbia/Washington State border, at Sumas, I again reported the gun. The agent there asked if we (Erica, Ron and I) were traveling together. I said "Yes" and he asked if the gun was registered in Canada. I again said "Yes" and he said "All may pass". That took all of about 30 seconds.

I had my passport but was never asked for it.

Tok Again

We got into Tok and Thompson's Eagle's Claw Motorcycle Camp http://thompsonseaglesclaw.com/ in the early evening and had camp set up while it was still light. Of course it is still light at 11:30 at night at this lattitude. Ron stayed in the teepee and Erica and I stayed in the wall tent.

One of the most pleasant eating experiences was in Tok. We ate dinner at the local "Salmon Bake". This was a place where you order your salmon (red or white) along with some side dishes and they then cook your marinated salmon on a wood fire. Man was it ever good. Probably the best meal I had on the entire trip.

We took off for Whitehorse the next morning.

Anchorage

After Denali Erica, Ron and I went on to Anchorage to stay with a couple of friends of mine, Bob and April Hoffman, from Graduate School Days in the late 60's and early 70's. Bob had moved from Ohio out to Jackson Hole, WY and when that got to civilized for him, he moved to Anchorage.


Bob has just retired from being a hunting/fishing guide in Alaska and I hadn't seen him for 30 years. I decided to relax for a day and shoot the shit with Bob while Erica and Ron decided to go to Seward for the day.

Seward is on the Kenai Peninsula and Bob called me to give me some of the latest news on bear-biker interactions.

• This story is from the Anchorage Daily News, July 24, 2007
• Bear sends bikers flying
  The Associated Press
  Published: July 24, 2007 Last Modified: July 24, 2007 at 08:48 AM
  ANCHORAGE, Alaska (AP) - This bear wasn't fazed by a few bikers roaring along on large, noisy motorcycles.
  
• 
  
• It paused, sized up the situation and made its move. The black bear darted through the group riding on the Seward Highway this weekend and sent some of them flying. According to several of the bikers, the bear walked onto the shoulder near Cooper Landing on Saturday morning and paused at the roadside while the first few in a group of eight bikers passed going south. But before Anchorage motorcyclist Randy Hames could get his own Harley Davidson past, the bear decided to run for it. "I thought it was a dog because it was not very big," Hames said. "It paused and then went zipping across the road, and that's when things got exciting."
  
• A biker in front of him veered and stopped, and Hames almost avoided a crash too until he was clipped from behind by Anchorage rider Michael Sweet's bike, he said. Sweet, 48, suffered injuries to his head, neck, arms and legs. Witnesses said he was wearing a helmet.
  Hames, Sweet and a third rider, Gilbert Wilson of Anchorage, all went flying from their bikes. One of those bikes ended up under an oncoming Dodge Ram pickup driven by Tim Lebling.
  
• Hames said he and Wilson were banged up but OK. Lebling said the bear got across the road unscathed. "Both my wife and I saw it ears-down and flying across the road," he said. Lebling's truck had to be towed to Anchorage. He was grateful things didn't turn out worse. "The biggest risk we take in Seward is driving the Seward Highway," said Lebling, an animal rehabilitation technician at the Seward SeaLife Center.
• The bikers were part of the Muscular Dystrophy Association's fundraising "Live Ride" from Anchorage to Soldotna.
  ---
  

Got the trigger lock on my 12-Gauge Shotgun fixed.

While in Anchorage I decided to get the trigger lock picked by a locksmith since the key went flying along with my trailer lock key. They were on my ignition keyring and went missing somewhere on the Icefield Parkway in Alberta. The locksmith fiddled with the lock for about 15 minutes but wasn't having any luck. Finally on of his co-workers looked up on the wall and saw the same model lock and, believe it or not, THE SAME KEY NUMBER . He opened the package and, sure enough, the key fit my lock just fine. He made two copies, I paid $4.59, and was on my way.

Lesson here, "Never put additional keys (or other junk) on your ignition key ring".

Oil Change and a Bath (and a new rear tire)

While in Anchorage I decided to get my oil changed. While changing the oil, the tech noticed that my rear tire had worn beyond its prescribed limits and that I needed a new tire. The tire plus installation would cost about $240. Jeez. I only got 5000 miles out of that tire probably because of the extra load that the trailer provided.

I also had them give the scoot a bath which they did. However, my Stebel Air Horn never worked again. I think the guy washing the bike must have sprayed a high-pressure jet up into the horn and destroyed the mechanism. The compressor would run but there was no sound from the horn. Then finally the compressor stopped. I still haven't fixed the horn. I'll get on it soon.

Cris' trials and tribulations - Broken Drive Belt

While at Bob's I got a collect call on my cellphone from Cris. The connection was not too good and we kept getting disconnected. After three attempts I learned that Cris was somewhere near the Alaska/Yukon border and had broken his drive belt. He was stranded somewhere near Beaver Creek about 240 miles from any help in Whitehorse. At that point the connection was lost and I was unable to raise him again. If we were going to help him, we all needed to get to Whitehorse (two days away) since I had a spare drive belt. I also had the sat-phone.

Cris will have some more details but here is what I remember from his tribulations. The Haul Road (Dalton Highway) is not a very good road in parts and it appears that Cris picked up a rock that punctured his drive belt. Cris was not immediately aware of the problem until he was heading back to the Yukon on the Alaska Highway. Just after he crossed the Yukon border from Alaska, the belt broke; He was dead in the water.

He managed to get ahold of the Roadside Assistance folks (after he couldn't contact me) and they agreed to come get him and take him and his scoot to Whitehorse. It took 4 hours for the truck to get there, pick up Cris' bike and head back toward Whitehorse but then the tow truck broke down. They had to hail another tow truck from Whitehorse and wait another 4 hours for the truck to arrive. They then had the tow truck tow the first tow truck and Cris and his bike back to Whitehorse. This whole thing took about 12 hours. When they got to Whitehorse it was Saturday evening and the Harley Dealer was closed and would not be open on Sunday. So Cris had to get a motel and sit.

We arrived with the spare belt on Sunday night but the tow truck operator had locked up Cris' bike and he wouldn't be able to get it until Monday morning. So we decided to get a room and wait until Monday morning with Cris. When the Dealer opened up on Monday, we gave them the drive belt, wished Cris good luck and we (Erica, Ron and I) took off for Watson Lake and Laird Hot Springs for a soak.

Well, the belt that I gave to Cris didn't fit his bike so he had to order a new one and he had to wait around another day or two before he could get his bike fixed. We also left the sat-phone with Cris so that he could contact us to say how things were going.

Here, I guess, the lesson is to carry your own drive belt and carry your own sat-phone, too.

Leaving for Tok

It was good to relax for a day before we headed for Tok. The ride to Tok was kind of wet for the first 200 mi. It wasn't an exceedingly heavy rain but it was steady. All three of us got soaked, even with good rain gear. My "waterproof" boots took on a load of water and I could feel my feet sloshing around in them as we rode. But by the time we got to Tok, everything had pretty much dried out.

Denali National Park

The ride from Fairbanks to Denali was pretty much uneventful. When we got there there was the main road into Denali which was about 15 miles long. At the end of the 15 miles there was a bus that could take you further into the park (for a fee). We opted not to take the bus.

When we got to the Mt. McKinley viewing area I was taking a bunch of pictures thinking I was taking pics of Mt. McKinley (see above). Finally someone said "What are you taking pictures of?" and I said "Mt. McKinley". Then they said "That's not Mt. McKinley, THAT's Mt. McKinley". The mountain was so big and so high that I did not even see it. It was shrouded in cloud and I actually mistook it for clouds when I first looked at it. I finally got out my 500mm lens and took the pics below.

July 12, 2007 Now we are three

Well, we didn't quite make it to the Arctic Circle yesterday. We got to the Dalton Highway, at Livengood, AK when Erica's throttle cable gave out and her engine just died. Erica, Cris and Lee managed to get her idle cable off and used it as a tempoary fix to replace the throttle cable but we decided it would be best to return to Fairbanks and let Harley do a proper fix.

Cris and Lee decided to continue to the Arctic Circle while Ron and I accompanied Erica back to Fairbanks. We have not heard from Cris and Lee since. They have the satellite phone so they can call us to let us know if they made it.

We heard from Dan "Screw Loose" last night. He's in Anchorage. I don't know if he'll join us for the return trip in a few days.

Erica's bike is all clean and fixed, I seem to have gotten rid of my electrical problems and Ron's Yamaha has had no problems, at all. We are going to head for Denali and then Anchorage today. I should have some pics in the next post. The folks at Fairbanks Harley Davidson were great. They worked on Erica's scoot and got it all cleaned up even after closing hours. Kudos to them.

Glacier, NP, Icefield Parkway and The Alaska Highway

One of our first fuel stops after Zimmerman was in Rothsay, MN. Rothsay claims to be the Prairie Chicken Capital of the World and they have this huge Prairie Chicken to prove it. Erica rode her scoot up to the chicken to say hi. That's Cris in the background checking out the information plaque.

After Minnesota and North Dakota, we went to Montana and Glacier National Park. We entered Canada from Rt. 93 in Montana and then continued up, crossed over the continental divide into Alberta and started along the Icefield Parkway in Lake Louise. Some of the pics that I took along the way are shown here.

Lake Louise at the beginning of the Icefield Parkway.

The beginning of the Alaska Highway is in Dawson Creek, British Columbia, just West of the Alberta line.

During that stretch, I began hearing strange rattling noises and finally deduced that the air cleaner was the source of the noise. Upon further investigation I noted that the Screaming Eagle Air Cleaner had kind of disintegrated. But none of the pieces ended up in the engine (remember Screw Loose's experience). I was able to repair the cleaner with Duct-Tape and that held together until we got to Whitehorse, the capital of The Yukon Territory.

We managed to get my Air Cleaner replacement parts in Whitehorse, Yukon Territory. I had to pay $150 for the full Screaming Eagle conversion because the Harley Dealer in Whitehorse did not have just the filter element.

The pic shows two of us (Ron and I) working on installing the new air cleaner and Lee working on the Voltage Regulator. I had been getting check-engine codes that indicated an Over-voltage condition. Lee thought it was due to dirty contacts on the Voltage Regulator and he decided to clean the dirt out. In the end it did not help and the problem was eventually traced to a short in the trailer wiring.

We crossed over into Alaska on July 9 and spent the night in Tok, AK. We stayed at Thompson's Eagle's Claw campsite which was VERY nice.

When we got into Tok, AK and were trying to figure out where the Eagle's Claw camp was we stopped at the visitor's center on the Alaska Highway. When I went to start the bike, a bunch of sparks shot from under the seat and everything quit. No electricals, no nothing. We checked fuses and everything else. When I checked the battery voltage with a frame ground, it measured about 4 volts. When I checked directly on the battery, I got 12 volts. This pointed to a bad ground connection from the battery. We pulled the battery and found that the (-) terminal was loose and had arced and then the bike shut down. When we tried to re-seat the connection, we found that the terminal bolt had been cross threaded and it was impossible to get it to go in or get it out. When I tried to back it out, the bolt broke. I tried to use a bolt extractor to get the broken piece out but then the extractor broke.

By this time we had made contact with Brian of Thompson's and he came out with a truck full of tools. I was able to drill out the lead contact and then using a large, self-threading screw I managed to get the contact securely fastened. Then everything started up ok, again.

I think the guy at the Dealership that installed my NEW battery just before we left managed to cross-thread the terminal bolt which accounted for the loose connection. I am going to take it back to the dealer and see if they will install a new battery for me. We'll see.

Today, July 10 we spent the day riding to Delta Junction (the Northern Terminus of the Alaskan Highway) and then on to Fairbanks. Along the way I got a pic of a cow Moose and her offspring.

Well, we made the 1422 miles across the Alaskan Highway. The road was pretty muddy/gravely in some spots. A lot of the mud ended up on my scoot. It is not just mud, but it is mud mixed with Calcium Chloride that the highway workers spray on the road in order to keep the dust down. Only problem is that the stuff hardens on the bikes and it is as hard as cement.

We will be heading for the Arctic Circle tomorrow. I have decided NOT to bring the trailer so a little packing will be in order tomorrow. We will leave the trailer in Fairbanks and just take the bare (think Bear) minimum of supplies and clothing.

We are now down to five participants. Dan "Screw Loose" Cunningham decided to break away from the group and head for Anchorage. We may hook up with him on the return trip but for now he is travelling solo.

It's July 7, 2007. It's 6:30am and I am updating this blog with the few minutes that I have here. The formatting may not be too good and I won't get the time to straighten it out until later.

The six of us are plugging along (Tom bugged out in Montana) . We've had a few minor mishaps but no big problems. Mechanically, the bikes are all running well. Cris' bike doesn't seem to like the rain and it misfires when wet.

I keep getting a "check engine" light but we can't find and Codes to indicate that something is wrong, so I haven' t been able to check for a problem. I did add some oil and this may have eliminated the problem; we'll see during today's ride to Muncho Lake, BC

Well, we are in Dawson Creek, British Columbia. This is Milepost Zero for the Alaskan Highway. Everybody was tired, hot and short-tempered and sniping at each other so we decided to get a Motel and chill for a while.

Yesterday we were awakened at our campsite by a herd of Elk that came walking through. They did not seem to be afraid of us, nor we them. One female was even nursing her young (see pic at left).

One of the mishaps that I spoke of was that my keychain went flying apart somewhere in the Icefields. Lost were the key that locks the trailer hitch and the key that locks the trigger of the gun. We solved the trailer hitch lock problem by cutting the lock off (see pic of Lee and Dan cutting the lock while takin a ciggarette break). We haven't figured out what to do about the gun lock. I hope we figgure it out before we see our first grizzly bear, close up.

Trying to organize pictures for this blog is like trying to herd cats. I don't have time to fool with them now but here are a few pics of the shots that I took along the Icefield Parkway in the Canadian Rockies between Lake Louise and Jasper.

I guess that's all for now. I'll fix it up when I have more time.

Ferry Ride Across Lake Michegan

The Ferry reached Manatowok at 11:00 am on Saturday, June 30 and we headed for our rendezvous with Erica. The Ferry was very relaxing. We just kind of took it easy. They served breakfast on board and there were ample lounge chairs for the entire 4-hour trip. The weather was great, the lake was smooth and there was not a cloud in the sky.

Here is a picture of Cris enjoying the cloudless view from the deck of the Ferry.

After disembarking from the Ferry, we got ourselves organized and headed out to meet up with Erica who was comming from Kansas City. The meeting place was a McDonalds just outside of St. Paul, MN.

On the way to our rendezvous with Erica, the "E Pluribus Unum" (one from many) of trailer problems began. I noticed that one turning signal acted as if it were shorted. Having dealt with this problem before, I checked the wiring under the rear fender and found, sure enough, that the tire was rubbing the wires to the trailer and had worn through the insulation. Eventually the wires touched and caused a short. It didn't blow any fuses but it was enough to cause the electrical system to go haywire everytime I tried to use the turning signal.

We didn't have an immediate solution for the problem which was caused by the added weight of the trailer pushing down on the frame and narrowing the clearance between the rear fender and tire. I finally decided to eliminate the bike tail light. So we just cut the turn signal wires and disconnected them from the tail light assembly. This was a temporary solution that we could fix once we got to Tok, AK where there was a shop in which we could work.



Dan, being more nimble than I, was kind enough to get on the ground and work up under the fender. Thanks a bunch Dan.

We headed for Hudson, MN to meet up with her. Hudson is just East of St. Paul. Erica was at the appointed meeting place (a McDonalds) and we headed for Zimmerman, MN where our first campsite was to be.

Our first campsite was a primitive site in Zimmerman, MN. The campsite was great and so were the mosquitos (note the netting over Cris' head). Everyone was pretty tired by the time we got our tents set up so they all went to bed. Lee and I went into town to see if we could get something to eat. We found one place open and managed to get a dinner (not a very good one, at that. ).

I got to see three Bald Eagles on the way out here, one in Wisconsin and two in Minnesota.

And They're Off

Here is my scoot and trailer all packed-up for the trip. I did not put any fuel in the 5-gal Jerry Can because I wanted to keep the toung weight to a minimum, particularly in areas where fuel was plentyful. In the more remote regions I filled the can to the brim because some of the fuel stops were more than 150 miles apart and when you got there, they may or may not have gasoline.

Well, Cris (Brooklyn) and Dan (Screw Loose) arrived in good form last night. We were showing each other our scoots when I decided to show off my new 139db Stebel Air Horn. Well it beeped once and then quit. After some sloothing we discovered that the horn relay had gone bad. Cris had another relay (starter relay) so we decided to use it. What I did not realize was that the starter relay has a diode bypass. We hooked it up backwards (diode was forward biased) and nothing happened (so we thought). Upon further investigation we found that we had blown the diode and a 15A fuse. I went to replace the fuse from my stash of fuses only to find that I had purchased the wrong size.

So off to Auto Zone and purchase the correct size of fuse and off to Liberty North to purchase two more (one for me and one for Cris to replace the one we burned out) starter relays. We replaced the relay and all is well, for now (The horn quit for good in Anchorage).

Friday morning, the bikes are all loaded and we are ready to strike out. I start up my bike and "put-put-put" it sounds like a Buell Blast on Valium. It's only running on one cylinder. So Dan and I troubleshoot the problem and settle on a bad spark plug. I replace the offending plug and voila, the engine sounds fine. The plug was only two weeks old so I don't know if there is a problem there. Maybe just bad plug.

Anyway, we are off to Alaska this morning. Our first stop is Ludington, MI to catch the Ferry over to WI.

Here we are getting ready to load ourselves onto the Ferry. Notice the "Jolly Roger" on the piece of equipment to the left between and above Tom's and Ron's heads. Arggghhh!

Here we are on the deck of the Ferry. We had to bring tie downs for each bike but the water was so smooth that we really didn't need them, this time.

The Bear Whisperer

The Bear Whisperer

In order to remain safe and secure in Bear Country one should always be prepared. The picture demonstrates how one should be prepared. We will be in Grizzly country from the time we hit Glacier National Park, all through the Canadian Rockies and into Alaska. I have a friend in Anchorage that will not go out to pick up the morning paper unless he is armed. Apparently because of some quirk in bear evolution, the Griz likes to read the paper before any human can get to it.

Because of space, weight and other considerations I will not be able to take a full compliment of preparedness. The rifle and 357 will stay. The Bear Hat, Goggles and Bear Coat will also stay. The Bear(Beer) Gut will, out of necessity, come along.

In case of a bear encounter, my first line of defense will be a can of UDAP http://www.udap.com Bear-Be-Gone pepper spray. The manufacturer claims that when you open a can of Bear Whupass on a bear, it has been shown to be more effective than firearms. Only problem is that you need to be about 10 yeards from the bear in order for it to be effective. If at that point you find that it doesn't work, all you can do is bend over and kiss your ass goodby. This is why I am bringing a shotgun, too.

History of Motorcycles, continued...

Well, after the Indian adventure there was about a 10-year hiatus away from motorcycles. Then in 1975, in Boston, the bug bit me again. It didn't hurt that a motorcycle shop in Lexington was going out of business and wanted to clear it's inventory. So, I got a good deal on a brand-new Honda 550-Four.

My girlfriend (now my beautiful wife) and I rode all over New England on the thing. The most memorable ride was when we rode from Cambridge, MA to Rhode Island and back. I did not have proper attire, including gloves, and we froze our tooshies. This was strike 1 against motorcycles as far as my wife was concerned and she CAN hold a grudge for a very long time.

Next day I went out and purchased a Windjammer Fairing, leather coat and gloves. The next month we moved to Arizona where a Fairing, leather coat and gloves were kind of a bad idea.

While out in Arizona my wife was about 9 months pregnant (with Boojr) and she got tired of carrying this large watermelon around. She talked me into taking her for a ride over the bumpiest roads I knew of (there were lots of them in Sacaton, AZ where we lived). Well that did the trick. The next day, while I was out riding the following note was left on the kitchen table...
"IN LABOR! DRIVING SELF TO HOSPITAL! COME !". Now the drive from Sacaton to Phoenix was 40 miles and she was not particularly happy to be driving herself while in labor. Strike 2. But everything came out OK and little Boojr was born.

Well, we stayed in Arizona for two years and then I got a job offer back in Ohio. So back to Ohio we came. After I got run off the road 2 or 3 times by cagers, I decided to give up Motorcycling and sold the Honda to my wife's brother. That was in 1978.

I withstood the call to get another bike for 26 years but the urge finally got the best of me and I got back into motorcycling with an '83 Suzuki 850. That only whetted my appetite so in March of '04 I made the big step to a Harley-Davidson Sportster. Oh, Oh, Strike 3. See
"How to Buy a Motorcycle...NOT" in the March Blog.

A Brief History of Motorcycles (from my perspective)

I was born and raised in Cleveland, Ohio where there were always ample numbers of Harley-Davidson Motorcycles roaring around the neighborhood. It never occurred to me that I would actually own one of these things someday but I did always want one. I was never able to convince my mom and dad that I should have one of these contraptions so the only choice available to me was to build one. Now this, for an 8 year old, might seem like an insurmountable task but I was willing to go for it.

Actually, at 8 years old, I did not want a Harley (I knew that would be out of reach) but a Whizzer Motorbike did not seem like too much to ask for. Still my parents said no, citing my 8-years as being insufficient age to get a driver's license. So, like I was saying, I decided to build one.

As luck would have it, I had a 0.049cu in engine that came off of a model airplane that my parents, er.. Santa Clause, gave me for Christmas. The reason that I had the engine and not the airplane was that I started it up (on Christmas Day) in the basement of our house. Somehow it got away from me and flew directly into the opposite brick wall, creating hundreds of pieces out of what once was a brand-new model airplane. One of the pieces, still intact, was it's 0.049cu in engine. This was the engine I chose to power my motorbike.

Now my 0.049 engine was 1500 times smaller than my current 1200cc Sportster but, even at the tender age of 8, I realized that I should be able to gear the motor down to provide enough torque to move the bike along. It wouldn't go very fast but any degree of mechanized propulsion would be considered a success. My older brother laughed and said that it was a stupid idea and, furthermore, would never work (He is a Sociologist from Princeton now so I figured that what he knew about things mechanical could be sequestered on the head of a pin.). Only problem is that he WAS right.

I did get to the point of taping the motor to the top-tube of my bicycle with friction-tape, and I did get the motor started (I had replaced the prop with a pulley by this time) but that was as far as it went. I never did get around to actually gearing it down to drive the rear wheel of my bicycle.

The next stage of the saga occurred when about four years later I came into possession of an actual Whizzer motorbike motor. There is a little story behind that one too. My brother and I had built a go-cart powered by a B&S lawn mower motor. But during a test-run he encountered some "driver-induced divergent oscillations" (it was actually a bad steering design that had a rather jerkey response to steering inputs) and it tumbled over dumping him and the engine onto the ground (that image is still vivid in my mind. My emotions were torn because I did not know whether to laugh or feel bad for the go-cart that he wrecked). Anyway all of the oil ran out onto the sidewalk as a result of a crack in the crank case. The motor was trashed.

The motor would run for a few minutes but would then quit due to overheating and lack of proper lubrication. But it ran long enough to get one of our "friends" to trade a real Whizzer Motorbike motor for the busted lawn mower motor (we, of course, did not tell him of the recent accident). I thought we had struck gold with the Whizzer but we were never able to get the dang thing started. I ended up taking the motor completely apart and learned alot about internal combustion engines but not enough to get the thing actually running. To this day, some 50 years later, I still don't know why the motor would not run.

By the time I was sixteen I had pretty much given up on getting a motorbike and had obtained alternate interests, anyway. Cars and Girls. Following that revelation came marriage, pregnancies, kids and poverty, not necessarily in that order.

In the early sixties, while in college, I somehow managed to get ahold of a 1949, 125cc, Indian Scout motorcycle. I did all of the maintenance on it and kept it running for a while until one day while out riding with a friend, the rear wheel just froze, while I was downshifting (the engine was revving up pretty high) . The engine kept running but the rear wheel would not turn. I managed to trailer the bike home and began tearing it down to see what the heck had happened. When I got into the primary drive the cause became obvious. A screw had fallen out of the primary housing (I knew nothing of Loc-Tite then) and jammed the primary chain causing the rear wheel to freeze up. The motor, which had revved up to high rpm, kept turning but since the rest of the drive train had stopped, it ended up twisting the spline shaft in two.

Now the spline shaft was connected directly to the crank which consisted of two rather large flywheels with the piston's connecting rod attached between them. At the high rpm the flywheels stored enough energy to twist the spline shaft in two when the primary chain froze up.
At Hiram College the Physics Department had a machine shop with lathes, milling machines and all kinds of metal-working gizmos and they were accessible on weekends. We didn't have a machinist so it was kind of learn as you go but I was able to manufacture a new spline shaft from scratch. I even managed to sweat the new shaft onto the flywheel. I only had to go to the hospital once to get stitched up after I lost a tug-of-war with the lathe.

While I had the engine apart I got new piston rings, honed the cylinder walls, ground and re-seated the valves and installed new valve springs. I was able to get all these parts because there was an Indian Shop in Kent just 30min from Hiram. Every time I would walk into the shop the proprietor would greet me with "Hello Lucky" as if I should be congratulated for not wraping my bike around a tree between visits. But he generally had the parts I was looking for.

Anyway, I got the old Indian back together and low-and-behold it ran like shit through a goose on X-Lax! But I never trusted it again and ended up selling it for $125. Oh yeah, I recently noticed that restored '49 Indian Scouts are selling for $10,000.

To be continued...

Update on Erica's Ride

Here's an update on Erica's situation.
NRHS provided cylinders and pistons for Erica's bike. I think the compression ratio was reduced from the 10:1 value by using low-profile pistons. She now has 1235 cc displacement.
When looking at the carburator, Lee (Bussy) found a ruptured diaphragm which, he feels, is the "smoking gun" that explains the lean fuel mixture and subsequent detonation damage. Erica and Lee put the bike together over the past week. She installed a new ignition module and plans on dyno-tuning after the break-in.

As of today (4/30/07) she has put over 100mi on the bike without any hint of a problem.
Hopefully this will be the end of the matter.

Just Musing

Well, it's April 20 and we have about 70 days to go before we head north. The past month has been pretty uneventful except for a couple of interesting things. We had the XL-Alaska party at my house at the end of March. Attendees were Erica (all the way from KC), Screw Loose Dan (all the way from Philly), Tom "Silver Eagle" McCort, Ron "Skid" Demyan, Lee Levy, Boojr and myself.

I rode to Indianapolis to meet up with Erica, who was comming from Kansas City, and we rode back to Stow together. I wanted to see how the trailer behaved, fully loaded. Erica wanted to see how her new 883>>1200 conversion worked out. My ride was uneventful but Erica's was a disaster. On her way back to KC, Erica's engine quit about 150mi from home. She was able to limp home but when she and Lee took the engine apart they found that the engine had just about destroyed itself. The piston was cracked, had a hole in the top, the connecting rods were damaged and the cylinders were trashed.

NHRS's Aaron Wilson put an email out on the XL-List that said that her engine exhibited all the classic signs of long term detonation. There has been alot of soul-searching and Monday-morning quaterbacking regarding the problem but the causes seem to be..

a) Her refurbished engine had a 10:1 compression ratio
b) She was running a little lean (14:1 - 16:1 on the Air:Fuel ratio)
c) She was running the older 883 ignition module which has a pretty significant spark advance

These three situations could easily (and prolly did) combine to cause premature detonation and subsequent engine destruction. Erica and Lee have decided to implement the following modifications on her next engine.

a) Use low-profile pistons so as to reduce compression ratio.
b) Re-tune the carb to run an Air/Fuel ratio closer to 13:1 or richer.
c) Get an aftermarket ignition module

The second interesting thing that happened a bit ago was when I was trying to adjust my highway pegs for the greatest comfort on the long ride. I had them pretty well situated but when I put my foot on the left peg, it would unscrew and drop down. This seemed to happen no matter how hard I tightened the thing. My solution was to try to take the MIG-Welder and tack the peg in position. Only problem was when I tried to weld the peg, the metal just disintegrated. No matter what settings I used, the thing just went "Poof". Finally I had eroded almost a third of the metal away and I decided to give up and take the thing into the machine shop at my university to see what the heck I was doing wrong.

After some deliberations the machinist announced that my peg was not stainless steel but was ZINC and "Zinc don't weld too good". Oh well, a new set of pegs set me back about $100. At least I could re-use the foot rests.

How to Buy a Motorcycle.....NOT!

I have been a motorcycle rider ever since I bought my '49 Indian Scout back in '66 (I sold it for $125 because I needed some dough and didn't have a job). Later, when I did have a job, I bought a Honda 550-Four in Boston in 1975 and my, soon to be, wife and I did quite a bit of riding on it then. After the kids were born I gave up riding for about 30 years. Recently, with the kids grown up and out of the house I decided to get back into the business of riding.

I had an '83 Suzuki 850 but what I really wanted was a Harley. My wife, by this time, had become an Emergency Physician and was pretty anti-motorcycle and I knew that she would not like to hear that I was thinking of upgrading to a new Harley Sportster so I decided on a slightly different approach. I thought I would hide the purchase from her until sometime in the future when I could say "That bike? Oh I have had that for some time now."

I knew she hated motorcycles so much that I could sneak a new Sportster into the garage and swap it out with the Suzuki and she would never know the difference. She would just assume I had added some chrome to the Suzuki and maybe did something to the mufflers. We generally keep separate bank accounts and I had a pretty good retirement-savings account that I could "borrow" from and she would be none the wiser.

So in March of '04 I trotted off to Liberty North (the same one Dan "Screw Loose" Cunningham used for his "upgrade") and ordered up my XL1200R with a few enhancements (I paid the Harley-Tax up front). They didn't have everything in stock so I had to order a few things and they would call, in a few days, when it was ready. BIG MISTAKE.

Well, when the bike was ready they called. Only problem was that I was not at home and my wife took the message from the cheery-voiced salesperson...."Tell your husband that his New Harley is in!!!" "What new Harley?" "The one he just bought." "Oh."

When I got home form work, the excrement had been thoroughly dispersed by the proverbial bladed contrivance. I was in the dog house, bigtime. I knew she'd be pissed but I was not prepared for the level of pissdom she was capable of achieving. Hell, it was MY money which I had SAVED over a period of years and furthermore I was PAYING MYSELF BACK over 5 years at an APR of 6%. What could be a sweeter deal? Well, she didn't see it that way and even went to see a divorce lawyer to inquire as to how the spoils of our 30-year marriage could be split. The lawyer apparently told her that she didn't have much of a case which even made her more pissed (if that were possible) but over the next three years she cooled down a bit. But I should point out that over the intervening period she has NEVER been on the bike, not even for 1 microsecond.

The only worse case that I have seen was the poor fellow who, recently, was selling his brand-new rice rocket on eBay because, as he put it, he had "not obtained proper permission from a beautiful and loving wife." He goes on to say "Apparently 'Do whatever the fu*k you want' doesn't mean what I thought it meant." I can feel your pain, dude.

So, that's my lesson on how to purchase a motorcycle...NOT.

Decisions, Decisions, Decisions

Most of the decision making of our little group is done by consensus. So far most of the group decisions have been well thought out and benefit the group as a whole. An example is a discussion as to whether we should carry guns or not. There were many arguments both pro and con. Ultimately we decided to carry one (or perhaps two)shotguns kept primarily to protect us from marauding bears. With proper preparation and Canadian registration we should be OK.

One of the most difficult parts of this trip is how to decide who should ride with us and who should not. I have met several of the riders on the Internet and although I have met most in person, there have been several I have not met. It is going to be difficult to determine if someone is compatible with the group's collective personality just over the Internet.

When we started this adventure in Oct. or Nov. last year, Erica and I decided that we wanted to limit the total number to 10 riders. This seemed to be a good compromise with enough of a critical mass to protect each other from just about any threat or problem but not so many as to become unwieldy. So far, the nine remaining (as of Feb. '07) appear to be pretty compatible.

One personality trait that both Erica and I have become pretty leery of is the "Loner." The Loner is someone who feels that he does not need the support of the group to survive and that he is better off doing things by himself. The loner does not participate in group discussions but tends to bitch at group decisions. This is kind of like someone who doesn't vote but complains about the results of the election. It is the tyranny of the majority but that's the way we do things around here.

We don't want any loners traveling with us because they will not understand the group dynamic and may be somewhat disruptive or, at the very least, will not be an active part of the group. In a serious medical emergency, the loner will probably not know what to do because he hasn't taken the initiative to understand each of our potential limitations.

It is ironic, though, that each of us has to be a loner to some extent, particularly if we get left behind because of a mechanical, medical or other problem. While I don't think we will abandon anyone out in the middle of the Yukon Territory, someone with a major problem could very well be expected to make it on his/her own once we got to a center of civilization.

The other thing that is disruptive is when an individual decides that he will do whatever he wants despite a group decision to the contrary and despite the fact that his behavior will have a disruptive effect on the group. A person of this type will not last too long with us either. We have had to ask several people to "bugger off", not that we want to be mean but that we feel that individual will be better off with some other group or perhaps traveling by himself.

Meet the Peeps

Our little group is a diverse bunch of baby-boomers and a few whipper-snappers from a much later epoch. Most are riders of one of the best bikes that Harley ever made, the Sportster. 2006 was the 50th anniversary of the venerable Sporty and it is still going strong in the Harley lineup.

Above is a picture of me and my '04 XL1200 Sportster at the Cumberland Gap. In its current configuration I have made numerous changes in the basic Harley layout including lowering the front and rear and putting Race-Tech Cartridge Emulators in the front and Progressive 440 shocks on the rear. I installed Supertrapp 2-into-1 pipes, a Sundowner Seat, forward controls, a 4.5 gallon fuel tank and a trailer hitch. I have put 30,000 miles on it since March of '04.

I started this whole mess by making an announcement on the Sportster List that I was interested in taking a motorcycle trip to Alaska during the summer of 2007. I asked if anyone was interested in joining me. After I posted that , Erica Stack (Red) answered in about a nanosecond that she would be interested in going too. She has started her own Erica's Blog on the subject. I had met Erica through the XL-List and Kansas City Sportster Ralleys and knew that she was a pretty enthusiastic and competent rider. Once Erica joined, things started rolling right along. I wasn't sure she was serious about the Alaska trip but she showed any doubters that she was dead serious. She began orgainzing in earnest somewhere back in November, 2006 and had a complete packing list finished well before Christmas. Erica is converting her XL883 to a 1200 bike and should have it finished by the end of March, 2007.

Bob Hill (Opa) is another of the baby boomers that we met on the Sportster List and at the Kansas City Rally. Opa rode his Sportster down from Seattle last year and although he tried to convince us that he was through with long trips Erica worked him over and he has pretty much decided to ride with us. His trip will be about 3000 miles shorter than ours because he is already on the West Coast. We are going to meet up with him in Cranbrook, British Columbia and then we'll hit the Canadian Rockies for what is purported to be the most scenic drive in all of North America. Opa is a little concerned about the finances of the trip and, as you can see from the accompanying picture, his ride seems to be missing some critical parts.

The rest of the group joined in short order. Dan "Screw Loose" Cunningham had also been a member of the XL-List and he bought an XL883L late last year and decided to ride if from Philadelphia down to North Carolina and The Dragon and then do some sightseeing through Virginia and West Virginia. Take a look at Dan's Blog and you will see why we call him "Screw Loose". After some urging (think nagging) from Erica I got my trailer and met up with Dan in Spencer, West Virginia right after New Year's Day. All the dealerships were closed in Charleston and would be closed for another two days. So I carried Dan and his bike back to Ohio to Liberty North Harley Davidson. His bike is still there waiting for some pistons and cylinders to be replaced. Check out his Blog for the whole story.

The other east coast rider is Chris Dopher (Brooklyn). He is another member of the Sportster List and he is an experienced long distance rider. What makes Brooklyn so unique is that he has had Cystic Fibrosis (CF) all his life but he has not let that slow him down. His bike looks like a Respiratory Therapy Clinic and he has to jump through a special set of hoops but he loves to ride and I am looking forward to meeting him in person and riding with him, if for no other reason than he makes my Diabetes look like a comparative walk in the park. Brooklyn has written an article entitled Putting Whiners to Shame that appeared in February 2007 issue of Thunder Press, about his traveling with CF.

From the Cleveland/Akron, Ohio area we have Ron Demyan, a friend and riding buddy. Ron and I went to the Tail of the Dragon in '04 and have several shorter rides around Ohio and West Virginia. Ron is an enthusiastic rider who's only fault is that he rides a "Rice Burner", a Yamaha FJR1300. We decided to let him join us because his six-gallon fuel tank might come in handy on those long stretches between gas stations along the Alaska Highway. We just have to make sure someone brings a siphon hose. Ron wants it known that he is the one on the LEFT, the one with the green shirt.

Also from the Cleveland area is Lee Levy. No body seems to know too much about Lee but we know he exists because we have a picture of him and he speaks up, with words of wisdom, every now and then. He seems to be familiar with bears as he can be seen kissing one in the above picture.

He, too, rides a Sporty.

The 2nd last member to join the group is Tom "Newfie" McCort. The Newf and I were in Graduate School together in the late 1960's (I think we were there) and we had done alot of hunting, camping and canoeing together then. We have hunted bear up in Canada and I figured we could invite Tom along to act as bear-bait while the rest of us got away, in the event that we get attacked by a grizzly. Tom is known to carry his rifle with him everywhere he goes, even while swimming in the Canadian wilderness (I have a picture of that somewhere). Tom doesn't have a bike yet 'cause he sold his last year when he thought he was through riding. He is thinking of some type of Yamaha Cruiser and he claims he'll have it by the end of March. In the picture, that's Tom on the left, me on the right and a bagged-bear in the middle. The picture was taken 35 years ago so both Tom and I might look a little different today. The bear became a bear-rug but when I moved to Arizona the heat and low humidity made the rug somewhat brittle and my wife tossed it one day when I was out of the house. I couldn't really blame her though because the feet had started to break off and it didn't look much like a bear with no legs.

The sobriquet "Newfie" comes from a joke that we were told by some inebriated native in Timmons Ontario back in '69. We had stopped there to get some vittles and this guy insisted on telling us this joke about a Newfie (a man from Newfoundland) who had a blowout in his rubber boots at 30mph. We decided that it was human nature to look down on somebody and the Newfies appeared to be it in Northern Ontario. Tom and I have called each other "Newfie" ever since. But since I am known as "Bootie" to the Alaska group, I figure Tom is the sole owner of the "Newfie" tag.

The last member to join is my son Daniel "Boojr" Taylor. He has always wanted to go with us but his job commitments in the summer blocked his way. Well, as luck would have it, his summer job fell through and he is thinking that this turn of events represents a "calling" to join us on our Alaska adventure. Dan participated in the KC-Rally last year and had his butt pinched by the ladies who collectively voiced their approval. So he has been accepted by the Sportster crowd even though he doesn't have a Sportster. He, in fact, does not have any bike now having sold his Suzuki 850 last summer after a long ride from North Dakota to Ohio. He is looking at an '06 Street Bob so we'll have to see how that goes. He put about 5000 miles on a rented "Bob" last year and that was pretty much all the mileage it had on it. The Dealer is looking to sell it to Dan for at a pretty good price. Now, if he only had a job.