#Female easy rider magazine fox hunt code
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It’s fairly smooth, and is packed from the traffic leaving at least one clean path out of the loose stuff.

The road is not real bad as it winds along next to the pipeline. After selling us each a couple jugs at $2/ jug, we thank him and head back up the Dalton towards the Yukon River. There, a highway maintenance crew directs us to and old man on a hill with a 500 gallon fuel tank, and a calibrated milk jug.

We are still 60 miles from the Yukon River fuel stop, so we run over to Livengood. That was a good time to change oil, because some of that fuel most likely ended up there, but I did not notice any. I’ll blame it on bad gas, or I could just remember to shut the fuel off. I replaced the needle last year, and lapped the seat. F*cking Kehins, only the needle is replaceable as the seat is part of the carb body. We filled up last night, but apparently I failed to turn Red’s petcock off, and lost a couple gallons before morning. Back on the Dalton, we do not get far before Red coughs in protest and I am forced to switch to reserve. It’s supposed to reduce the dust, which so far has not been a big problem, although we do run about a mile apart to minimize its effect on our lungs and eyes. He warns us of the corrosive nature of the calcium chloride that covers the road. His secrets for survival near the circle? Yankee women can’t cut it he finally got himself a squaw and settled down. A local in an old Chevy pickup stops, and we shoot the shit for a while. The first stop on the Haul Road is a maintenance access road where we perform oil changes under the pipeline: engine oil for me, tranny oil for Tom as he was seeing moisture accumulate on his tranny dipstick…We didn’t spill too much, just enough to simulate a pipeline leak.

#Female easy rider magazine fox hunt code

We had heard a few horror stories about the Dalton, probably exaggeration, but Gypsy did not feel the need to straddle the Circle, especially since it required backtracking to the point of origin, an obvious violation of her personal code of cross country travel. Tom and I head north leaving Gypsy to fend for herself for the day. So much for a good shower, it’s time to run to the Arctic. Suspecting the showerhead I unscrewed it to reveal barely enough pressure to dribble out the end of the open pipe. Fairbanks, AK, 86959, 2.90, $ 3.48, $1.20, 5139, 139, 47.9, 45.6ħ/20/91, Sat, Day 18, Fairbanks AK to Arctic Circle and back 449 miĪfter a night in our noisy overpriced room, we discover a shower with no flow. He is well lit, and they wouldn’t let him spend a dime. That is where we find him later, with all his new friends. Gypsy and I unpack, while Tom heads over to the Legion to socialize. Gypsy finally locates a $60 room but we have to sneak Tom in.

#Female easy rider magazine fox hunt free

Tom is impressed, to me it looks like more free beer. One of which is the Supreme Legion Commander for all of Alaska. Gypsy gets a phone and goes on a mission to find us a room, as Tom and I fraternize with the locals. The Eskimo Olyimpics are in town, and have sucked up all the rooms. We decide we should get a much deserved hotel room, but everyone we ask just laughs. The Pepsi is free and the Busch comes in 16 oz cans, so everyone is happy. To us they are a trip souvenir, and we collect our fair share. Get it? They are most comonly used when some one buys a round, and you already have a drink, they give you a rountuit. Frank turns up and gives us the Alaskan welcome we had imagined, buying us drinks and giving Tom a rountuit, as in you can have a free beer whenever you get around-to-it.

Yes, this bar has boulders to separate the two wheelers from the cages, and I mean boulders! It appears the bikes we see are mostly built for bar hopping, as half the machines are rigids. F*ck it, let’s go to Franks.Īs we pull into the parking lot of the planets most northerly biker bar, we squeeze past the boulders and park out front. Not impressed with the shop or the service, I don’t think I want to advertise for this place anyhow.

Of course, they don’t have any L or XL T shirts and a tacky looking gold plated Fatboy is the main attraction. The owners wife is running the store and she is about the least friendly person we have met in Alaska or maybe even North America. So we ride to the shop for T-shirts and oil. Outside Fairbanks we stop for gas and see a bumper sticker for Franks Biker Bar, not far from the Harley shop. The road is mostly smooth, but rough in spots but no frost heaves. After a taste of Tok, we head to Fairbanks. Breakfast is flavorful and it’s a little cheaper than Canada but not much. Everything in Tok seems to be sourdough and Salmon bake.