Dalton: Day 2. Coldfoot to Prudhoe

Our night at Coldfoot was surreal, the Motel is in a truckers yard surrounded by what seems to be a scrap yard, broken down cars and bits of metal surround the dust filled yard. During the night we awoke to howling, I presume by dogs but we couldn't tell, maybe wolf's, in the morning we could try and find out. Our broken sleep left us groggy and slow to rise, no issue because it doesn't get dark this time of year this far North. As we loaded the bikes that morning a lone Husky strolled and stopped ten feet away and looked on, were you the one keeping us awake? he seemed to be heading somewhere and he turned and strolled off into the distance. We looked at each other and took the hint, lets get moving. This part of the Dalton was supposed to be the hardest with the infamous Atigun Pass, a warning of deep gravel and mud just outside Prudhoe. Nervously we left Coldfoot and started the trail. The going was good and our success from the previous day fueled us and we stormed on. We hit the Atigun Pass and with little difficulty we made it through. The roads were very dry, dust plumes in the distance indicated the on coming trucks like an approaching army in a film. We were brimming with confidence. Pretty soon after the pass we started hitting the deep gravel; some the size of golf balls, the bikes snaked and fish tailed and we aimed for the smother sections formed by trucks flattening a little of the gravel, as the trucks passed we had to get to the sides, that meant crossing a ridge of gravel, lean back and power through... Standing for an hour or two we worked hard. Until we hit the mud! It was caused by the construction workers spraying a formula that helps the road to adhere. Unfortunately they hadn't compressed it yet, we had found what all those other riders had been talking about. The bikes felt out of control, slushy mud like ice threatened to spill us. The urge to slow had to be beaten; speed was the key. We powered on. knees clenched to the seat, hands loose. Snake and slide. After ten miles we made it through and rode triumphantly in to Deadhorse. Caked in mud and with less than a cupful of fuel in Taz's bike. A quick tour to the Arctic Ocean. Shower and then bed because tomorrow we have to do it all again to get back to Fairbanks one road in one road out.. Good night.