A picture that’s worth a thousand words (all uttered through clenched teeth):
It was a snowy day at Wonowon and I needed a little help to get untracked there on the Alcan Highway, on our last trip up in 2013. I never thought I’d want to ride to Alaska again. In fact, I was sure of it.
But time heals all wounds (and memory fades), and my three compadres wanted an even number, so a foursome from Central Texas is heading for the Yukon, Northwest Territories, Alaska, and even the Arctic Ocean next week, weather permitting. I don’t mean departing Texas in late May depends on the weather, but getting close enough to take a dip in the Arctic Ocean in early June sure as heck does. “Break-up” has to happen big time.
Crocodile Dundee described walkabout thusly: A spontaneous journey through the wilderness of one's choosing in an effort to satisfy one's itchy feet, a need to be elsewhere, the craving for the open road, that space over the horizon...yes... something like that... you can't quite touch it so you have to go find it because you just know it's there. Or maybe it just feels good to go walking around. Yeah, it's WALKABOUT.
Obviously, we’re a world away from Dundee’s Oz, and we’re riding motorcycles instead of walking, but otherwise the description fits perfectly.
Travis and Scott are ex-Navy; Travis is actually a former Marine, but that’s part of the USN, and he coined the term “Northern Walkabout”. They reckoned as how we should, like Popeye and the rest of the Navy, get tats on our forearms as something of an insignia for our expeditionary force. We three agreed with just about all off-the-wall aspects of the adventure, even looking forward to the mummified toe “Sourtoe” cocktails in Dawson. That’ll probably be the subject of another story in due course. However, Meryl is originally from Kansas, the “buckle” of the Bible Belt, and he’s far too conservative for tattoos, fearing (with good reason) that his wife would remove it with his angle grinder. Likewise, Kansans don’t imbibe alcoholic beverages garnished with mummified toes.
Since we can’t do tattoos, we have custom MotoScreenz windshield stickers for the bikes, which will serve as a reminder to us and other explorers (if we see any) that this is a serious matter: Miles and miles of miles and miles, isolation, cold Arctic winds, hungry polar bears. Plus, the stickers will be a lot easier and less painful to remove than tattoos once we return to civilization!
The journey maps something like this…each way…without showing the inevitable side trips. In other words, nearly 14,000 miles:
Why undertake this on motorcycles? Well, refer to the definition of “WALKABOUT” above. On the other hand, there’s this more succinct explanation:
“If you have to ask that question, you wouldn't understand the answer.”
- John McPhee, Coming into the Country
Hasta la vista.
It was a snowy day at Wonowon and I needed a little help to get untracked there on the Alcan Highway, on our last trip up in 2013. I never thought I’d want to ride to Alaska again. In fact, I was sure of it.
But time heals all wounds (and memory fades), and my three compadres wanted an even number, so a foursome from Central Texas is heading for the Yukon, Northwest Territories, Alaska, and even the Arctic Ocean next week, weather permitting. I don’t mean departing Texas in late May depends on the weather, but getting close enough to take a dip in the Arctic Ocean in early June sure as heck does. “Break-up” has to happen big time.
Crocodile Dundee described walkabout thusly: A spontaneous journey through the wilderness of one's choosing in an effort to satisfy one's itchy feet, a need to be elsewhere, the craving for the open road, that space over the horizon...yes... something like that... you can't quite touch it so you have to go find it because you just know it's there. Or maybe it just feels good to go walking around. Yeah, it's WALKABOUT.
Obviously, we’re a world away from Dundee’s Oz, and we’re riding motorcycles instead of walking, but otherwise the description fits perfectly.
Travis and Scott are ex-Navy; Travis is actually a former Marine, but that’s part of the USN, and he coined the term “Northern Walkabout”. They reckoned as how we should, like Popeye and the rest of the Navy, get tats on our forearms as something of an insignia for our expeditionary force. We three agreed with just about all off-the-wall aspects of the adventure, even looking forward to the mummified toe “Sourtoe” cocktails in Dawson. That’ll probably be the subject of another story in due course. However, Meryl is originally from Kansas, the “buckle” of the Bible Belt, and he’s far too conservative for tattoos, fearing (with good reason) that his wife would remove it with his angle grinder. Likewise, Kansans don’t imbibe alcoholic beverages garnished with mummified toes.
Since we can’t do tattoos, we have custom MotoScreenz windshield stickers for the bikes, which will serve as a reminder to us and other explorers (if we see any) that this is a serious matter: Miles and miles of miles and miles, isolation, cold Arctic winds, hungry polar bears. Plus, the stickers will be a lot easier and less painful to remove than tattoos once we return to civilization!
The journey maps something like this…each way…without showing the inevitable side trips. In other words, nearly 14,000 miles:
Why undertake this on motorcycles? Well, refer to the definition of “WALKABOUT” above. On the other hand, there’s this more succinct explanation:
“If you have to ask that question, you wouldn't understand the answer.”
- John McPhee, Coming into the Country
Hasta la vista.