As many of you know, Debb and I had the vacation of a lifetime this year. We were able to spend all of August touring in British Columbia, the Yukon Territories and Alaska. We loved it, or at least most of it.

We awoke, had our camp coffee and a muffin and headed for the Circle. Such innocent fools! The Arctic Circle is 125 miles up the Dalton Highway. What I had not realized is that the Dalton starts 90 miles from Fairbanks. It's over 210 miles - one way, and only 30 miles paved.

We're on our way at 9 AM. Got to the start of the Dalton at noon. Averaging about 30 mph, which seems pretty good. The road deteriorates. Two and a half hours to go the 60 miles to the Yukon River bridge. Have to stop here for gas. 146 miles so far, about 60 miles to go, 120 round trip for gas again on the way home. We head out. The road stays about the same, awful, and then disaster! Rear tire blows out about 18 miles from the Circle. In the middle of nowhere, above the treeline. DAMN!!! Well, don't panic. I have tire plugs, and an air compressor. When I actually get down on the ground and look at the rear tire, I am sick. It is completely worn out!

I start looking for leaks. I find one and fix it. Tire won't hold air. I find another one, this one takes three plugs. Tire takes pressure but loses slowly. Find another hole and use the last two plugs to fix it. By now an Alyeska pipeline inspector (Tony) has stopped to help. Thank God. He uses his spare tire to help air my tire, since my air compressor is so slow. Still won't hold air. Find one more hole. I'm out of plugs. Tony says the truckers all carry plugs so he'll get on the radio to get some help for us. He heads back to the Yukon River and nearby Pump Station 5. The shop there has lots of plugs and tools, he'll pump up his spare tire and bring another. Debb goes with him to the restaurant at the bridge to wait inside. Tony drops a couple of road hazard triangles beyond me in both directions.

Suddenly I'm alone on the road. Oh, what a feeling! Just as Tony and Debb leave it turns COLD. Wind and rain. Several people stop to help, but don't have any plugs. I take a few pictures and a leak. Finally a Princess Tour bus stops and the driver tells me a trucker is 5 miles back who will help me. I feel better. Then a guy heading south stops who has plugs, good plugs. I promptly lose two in the tire but get one to stay. Tire holds air. Slowly I get it to 20 PSI. Then the trucker who is behind the tour bus rolls up and stops.

And out of the cab pops this blonde pixie. Teresa. She says, "I hear you need some help." I say, "I got it plugged, I just need some air." She immediately strikes a boxers pose and says, "You mean I stopped on this hill for nothing! I ought to beat you up!" I'm sure the look on my face was priceless.

She uses her air compressor to air up my tire and then talks me into going on to the Arctic Circle. I'm so close and she is going north also if I have another problem. Debb will be pissed but I'm going north. Good choice. I get six miles and the plug I put in blows out. A few minutes later Teresa pulls up. I tell her what happened and she says, "Get out of the way, I'll plug this sucker." Out come the air hoses, trucker plug kit, gloves and a jacket. She crawls under my bike and six plugs later she is satisfied it will hold air. It does and I make it to the Arctic Circle! She pulls in and takes my picture in front of the sign. I take her picture and officially christen her "Saint Teresa".

At 5:25 PM I head south for the bridge and Debb. I get there at 7:15. Debb is displeased to say the least. When Tony went back to where I was, I had already left. He picked up his triangles and headed back to the bridge. Tells Debb he didn't see me anywhere. This news is not well received. Tony suggests I may have stopped at a restaurant just off the road about 20 miles north and he wouldn't have seen me. He leaves. A little later he comes back with news from the radio that a trucker has seen a guy on a gray bike and trailer heading north! Debb contemplates murder. Not long after that I show up. And I thought it was cold outside!

We relate our stories to each other. I get a bite to eat (my first since the muffin at breakfast) and we head out. At the gas pumps are two guys from Detroit on GSs. They have just returned from Prudhoe Bay. I am amazed! One has a sticky throttle, so I loan him my WD40. It helps, and we tell them where we are staying in Fairbanks.

We leave the Yukon River at 8 PM and get back to our campground at midnight. What a day! It could have been a lot worse. A lot of travelers count on Saint Christopher, but on the Dalton Highway Saint Teresa is my good luck charm.

August 15th, Thursday

Off to McDonalds for breakfast. I call the local Honda dealer for a tire. He has one, but no mechanic to install it. The Yamaha dealer will install it. All that gets done by 2 PM. Later that afternoon the Detroit guys walk over to our tent. Tom and Andy. We chat for awhile and another rider joins us. Jim from Ohio on a K1100. We BS awhile and then all go to dinner.

Isn't is amazing how obvious the mistakes are after you make them? If I had realized my tire was so worn I wouldn't have driven to dinner, much less to the Arctic Circle. We were very fortunate. Oh yeah, two days later my speedometer quit. It was an adventure.