Lo!?the dramatic sight of Mount Denali gave way to not a single whisper of cloud obscuring her. Photos by Jason Spafford.
Skirting northeasterly around Denali National Park, I was hit with countless chevrons of snowcapped, glacier-studded mountains in Alaska’s Interior. My hunger for wild lands was going to be well-nourished here, a sweet spot that seemed to me the very acme of Alaskan wilderness allure. The day was just beautiful; blue skies and fluffy clouds above the endlessly evolving landscape, a remote horizon where snow and ice intermingled with sky at the edge of the world.
For us, it was the beginning of the end of a two-and-a-half-year road trip from the bottom of Argentina. Along the way, the power of social media connected us with the Fishhook Fatties, a gregarious motorcycle group from south central Alaska whose ethos is “work hard, play hard,” at least during the summer months when daylight hours are in high supply. Taking in the dramatic sights in Denali National Park?enjoying them as much as playing in them!
The Dust to Dawson (D2D) motorcycle event was just around the corner, so we jumped at the chance of joining them in June upon invitation. Perfect timing before the final push up to Deadhorse and Prudhoe Bay, the northern terminus of the Pan-American Highway.
As day ones go on any motorcycle jaunt, my expectations comprised no more than finding my stride in the saddle. Little did I know what lay in store–an Alaskan’s Alaska a...