So, I have a friend, who for the sake of anonymity, we shall call Ian (even though his real name is Martin Brabham of Otterbourne, Hampshire) who recently dared to insinuate that this trip may not be planned with military precision, that it might more resemble a couple of silly buggers wandering aimlessly about on motorbikes headed in the general direction of “North-ish”.
Not so, Ian, not so.
Here is our route:
So we have decided to take the ferry from Juneau to Prince Rupert (named after the Prince of British Columbia that won the Battle of the Knobbies in 1686 [probably]).
The ferry leaves on September the 5th which gives us 9 days to travel 2700 miles – easy!
The Alaskan ferry is quite a thing! We will have a day and a half to drift between Alaskan islands and cover some miles in the relative luxury of not being arse-buggered by British machinery all day long.
Now, it doesn’t have to be 2700 miles, we just plan on riding up through The Rocky Mountains. Why? Because we can.
Once we get to Prince Rudolph (or whatever, let’s face it, you had never heard of it until 30 seconds ago), we will have 8 days to get back home which is about 1800 miles, or 225 miles per day.
I think, by the time we are on the return leg, we will feel like 225 miles a day is a bit of a doddle, we will probably have some longer days, some detours and maybe rest days?
Our first day is already planned out. Highway 101 up towards Eureka, ride through the giant redwoods, literally, hit my favourite road in California, highway 36, camp at Mad River in the foothills of Mt Shasta. It would be more direct to go straight up 80 to Highway 5, however, that road is bollocks and although we will certainly spend a fair few hours on boring roads, I want to get my mate warmed up and show him the Northern California playground that I love.
Put that in your pipe and suck it, Ian.
