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July 31, 2014
Day 13 - Travelers
On the road, the wisdom flows from the mouths of strangers. Every person I see wearing riding gear is subject to the most comprehensive, invasive interrogation imaginable.
"Who are you buddy? Where'd you come from? Where you heading? Have you ever been up the Dalton Highway? The Dease Like Road? Have you ever been to Deadhorse, Alaska?"
And, from these impromptu meetings, all of the information I need flows to me. From the mouths of strangers. The Alaska Marine Highway System routes, fairs, and rules. The gas stations on the Dalton Highway. Road conditions. The best riding routes, paths, and trails. Dirt roads and paved roads. Secret favorite routes and short cuts.
"There's a KTM dealership in Fairbanks....
At a campsite in Tok, Alaska, someone mentions that there's a KTM dealership in Fairbanks. There is? Woohoo!!!
Like...I mean...I've been rolling through some of the most desolate places on earth. Beautiful, but isolated beyond belief. Now, I'm rolling into the first decent sized town in a while. I forgot there there were such things as motorcycle dealerships. So excited to learn this.
My tires are bald. The rear tire is as smooth as a baby's ass. It's showing bands. Beyond it's service life. Set the GPS to the address of the KTM dealership and just head straight there.
I roll into the KTM dealership in Fairbanks about 4:00 p.m. Alaska Time on a Thursday. Like....I'm hoping for a lot of things here. Hoping that they have tires to fit my bike. Hoping they have time to mount them for me. Hoping all of this happens today so I can keep rolling.
But, they show me their tires...they ask what size tires I have on the bike and I'm like "Dude...trust me I don't know. I'm not even sure what day it is. I certainly am not in a position to know what size the tires are....I think the front is a 21 and the rear is an 18. That's all I know.
We go outside, and the guy at the KTM dealership that's assigned to help me is pointing to the tires he has in stock. They're outside the building out back on a rack in the open air.
"This is your warehouse?" I ask.
"Yeah....we used to have a bunch of tires, but the travelers take them all..." His voice tapers off. The damned travelers.
"What are travelers?" I ask.
"People that come through...they're just traveling through....they just buy everything we have. We can't keep anything in stock..."
Damned those fucking travelers. Like...they talk about them like they're not even human. Like mosquitos that come through riding motorcycles. A true pestilence on the land.
"Damn them...." I say. Not sure if I'm joking or not.
After several trips out to the bike, we make notes on what the tire sizes are. Then, we go back to the warehouse outside and talk about what tires might fit on my bike. The first guy that was helping me leaves without saying goodbye, so now another guy is helping me look at tires. It's a lot of pressure...probably like a woman shopping for a purse. I'm looking at the tires...I don't know a lot about them. I want something that's like 70/30 or 80/20 street vs. dirt. I have to have some knobbiest if I'm going to make it up to the Arctic Circle. I'm not going up a 100 mile dirt road on smooth, bare, bald tires. I'm not that stupid.
My one buddy went up there, crashed, and had to fly back to Connecticut to heal for 5 weeks, only to fly back and drive his bike home. I don't want my little adventure to include a trip to the hospital.
So, I'm at the KTM dealership....a traveler...I'm the lowest form of life on the planet.
"Can y'all put these on today?" I ask optimistically.
"Nah. We can't do it today. All my technicians are covered up. They're all swamped. We don't have time to do this. We could do it tomorrow morning.." His voice trails off. He looks at me suspiciously....I'm a traveler after all...lower than a snake's belly.
I don't complain. I don't say anything really. I just sort of want to keep the deal open. Don't want to recognize the fact that I've just been told my little pointless adventure has reached a stopping point, or a snag.
I feel like someone's pulling a string and unraveling my sweater.
We keep looking at tires. Finally, I settle on one that I kind of like. It looks manly enough. But, as it turns out, they have that one on hold for another person. Someone who planned their trip, pre-ordered the tires, and had them in stock for the day when they roll into town and need them. A traveler capable of planning. Why didn't I think of that?
Finally, we agree on a front and a rear tire. Now, for whatever reason, boss changes his mind and decides that they can take a guy off of what he's working on so that he can change a couple of tires for a traveler. Woohoo!
At the same time, a customer comes into the store and recognizes my inspection sticker on the bike from Guatemala. No one has ever commented on it before. But this kid recognizes it, and comments on it.
"You took this KTM through Guatemala?" he asks.
"Yeah....drove it alone through every country in Central America last year," I reply. "You been down there?"
"Yeah....I drove around down there...went all through Central America and South America for about 6 months last year. I was down there in August."
"How long are you going to be in Alaska," he asks.
"I'm not really sure. I don't have a plan, really," I offer.
We talk for a while. "Look...I live in Anchorage...if you need a place to crash when you're in town, look me up. I've got a place you can get a shower and crash for a night. I can also put you onto some very cool rides in the area."
"OK dude...way cool. Many thanks...I'll give you a shout when I get down there."
Posted by Rob Kiser on July 31, 2014 at 7:15 PM
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