Trans Americas 2009 - The Blog

After a really good night's sleep (the joys of a large bed in a room all to myself) I woke at 6.30am and showered before heading down to meet Jeff for breakfast. This being America, even a “do it yourself” breakfast is not a simple or small affair, with 2 waffle-making machines to fathom out. It's actually very simple, really, you just fill a small cup with gloopy batter from the dispenser, pour it onto the base of the waffle machine, making sure it goes all the way round the little raised squares, close the lid and rotate it by 180degrees. After 2 minutes or so the timer rings and you can then remove your perfect waffle and saturate it with oodles of maple syrup. And enjoy watching your waistline grow as you eat it... so much for me losing weight on this trip!

With my stomach once again stretched to bursting point, I waddled back to my room and grabbed my bike gear, then put it in the back of the van and off Jeff and I went to pick up Kevin and Julia from a friend's house where they were staying. Once we'd loaded all their gear in the back of the van we all went to customs, with Kevin riding with his friend Jerry and Julia and me in the van with Jeff. First stop was to pick up Keith (the local freight agent), then we arrived at the customs office, where the process of getting the bikes cleared started. This involved a few additional forms which needed completing, so we spread the load, making pretty light work of it. Whilst one of the customs guys processed the forms, another asked us where we were from, and when we mentioned we were from the UK, he started to explain about his relatives in Cumbria. Nothing unusual about that, most Americans seem to have some relatives or friends in the UK, but he then went on to ask us if we were familiar with Morris Dancing. And then to explain some of the different dances and describe a gathering he'd been to (the “Woodstock of Morris Dancing” he called it). I've never met an American Morris Dancer before, and suspect I won't again!

With the bikes cleared through customs (that is, the forms stamped and dated with the official stamp), we drove across to the warehouse where we were met by Tom (another local and member of the same bike club as Gerry) with a large selection of electric screwdrivers. Then we were shown into a corner of the large warehouse where the bikes were waiting to be uncrated...





So then the work started. As each crate had the registration number of the bike printed on the side, I wandered round until I found mine, and then set to work with the electric screwdriver, gradually revealing my bike and eventually setting her free...














With my bike free I started work on another, then another and before long the warehouse was full of shiny bikes out of their crates and ready for a big adventure. With the work done, I changed into my bike gear whilst the rest of the team rode the other bikes out of the warehouse, and then I rode my own bike onto Alaskan soil (or actually the concrete apron of the warehouse)!! With the bikes now safely outside and ready to be relayed to the hotel, we took one last photo and went for lunch...





Riding my bike through downtown Anchorage was a great feeling, after all this time planning and saving for this very moment. Lunch was pretty cool too, in a local eatery called Gwennie's where I had reindeer sausage and eggs with home fries. The reindeer sausage (What's the difference between Caribou and Reindeer? Reindeer pull Santa's sleigh...) was delicious, slightly spicy and very filling (no surprises there!) but with the morning's work, I felt justified in eating it all.

After lunch I went to get some gas (I'm turning American...) whilst the rest of the team went to ferry the first batch of bikes to the hotel. Having filled the Harley a few times I was now used to either having to swipe my credit card at the pump or pre-pay the cashier, and not knowing how much it would take to fill my tank I opted to use my card, which was fine. Then the pump screen said “Take nozzle and select grade”. So I took the nozzle and looked for a button to press to select the right grade. Only there wasn't one. So I pressed anything that looked like it might possibly be a selection button, but still no fuel. Eventually I gave up and went inside to ask the attendant to come and see what was wrong. He showed me that you take the nozzle and then lift the nozzle holster up... I felt such a wally, but I've never seen a pump like that before...

Once over my embarrassment and with a full tank of gas, I rode back to the hotel, and sat out front until the guys arrived back, a long stream of 6 bikes, which we then parked round the back of the hotel. The guys had met up with Jim and Mac (2 more Trans-Am riders) and so they'd been able to collect their own bikes as well. Then we all hopped in the back of Jeff's van and went back to the airport where we put one broken bike (flat battery) in the van and rode the rest back to the hotel. With all of the bikes now safely parked, I grabbed a quick shower and change of clothes and we went off to the Snow Goose pub for a well-earned beer or two (or three.. or...). A micro-brewery, the beer was delicious, and whilst sat on the terrace we also met Aaron and Kenneth (Aaron is doing the full Trans-Am. Ken the section to Tuscon).





After a snack of fish and chips (from the “appetizer” section of the menu, with chunks of incredibly fresh fish in light batter and french fries), we left the Snow Goose and headed over to Humpy's. Now this isn't some kinda sleezy strip-joint but a pub named after the nick-name for a male salmon when it takes on a humped appearance after its spine bends from swimming to chase the female fish during the mating season... where the beer was also good. But with us all nearly falling asleep, it was time to call it a night and walk back to the hotel. And here's the odd thing about Alaska, even at 11pm it was still daylight. Weird...