Fish Camp- Working as a set netter in Kasilof, Alaska for a summer.

Another hard day in the office

A cool wind blows through the trees, coming off the murky water of the glacier fed Matanuska River. There is a chill in the air, and the sun hides behind clouds that threaten rain. Sitting on the porch of the Nova River Runners cabin, I hear people murmuring inside about which dry suit will fit and how to avoid the biggest rocks when paddling. I smile at the vast difference of water experiences I’ve had in the last three months.
　　I had been working in Anchorage, trying to get some hunk of junk Chrysler to start when I first heard from Robby Williams. My hands covered in grease, oil and blood (some probably not even my own, this car had been abandoned in Anchorage for a month), I answered my phone with a grunt, still half wondering which one of the dumpsters hid the dude that was going to knife me and steal the 35$ I had in my wallet. The friendly voice on the other end introduced himself, and I forced myself to concentrate. A quick two minutes on the phone, and I was happy to realize I had just landed what sounded like a great job working on the ocean as a fisherman. The fun part was that I had 2 days to get to Kenai, with whatever I needed for 6 weeks of work. My outfit of camping gear and clothes were 2 1/2 hours north in Glacier View, where my girlfriend worked as a photographer for a rafting & hiking company. My new job, promising a shack of my own on the beach and three warm meals a day, was 3 hours south. I looked down at the dented, leaking vehicle and smiled. Where there’s a will, there’s a way! An hour later I pulled the car into the owners driveway, with a new battery, fuses and zip-tied license plate installed, and about half full of fluids- the other half led a meandering trail back to the apartment complex where I had found this beast. I pocketed a few hundred dollars from the last few days of handyman work I had been doing for the friendly native family, hopped on my trusty, albeit dirty and loud, KLR, and headed north to pack up my gear. Stuffing my panniers and bags full for a job I knew very little about, I set out the next evening for the Kenai Peninsula. One moose accident, two sketchy gas station fill ups and 5 hours of hand numbing riding later, I pulled onto a small dirt driveway surrounded by stacks of nets, bright buoys and old trucks in hip tall grass.

　　I walked down the hand-cut stairs to find a small, cozy shack with warm light spilling out onto the grass, the sound of crashing waves on the beach in the distance. A humming woman was taking biscuits out of a small oven, the smell overwhelming my dull senses. I walked up to the door, and the clunk of my boots made her turn. She smiled, a genuine smile going up to her eyes - “You must be Travis! Come in, come in. You must be freezing.” I opened the door, and the warmth of the electric heater combined with the tantalizing aromas of bacon, french toast and biscuits almost brought tears of joy to my face. This was the wife of my new boss, Kris, and she was a fantastic, caring woman who made the best camp food this side of the Mississippi. I swear it.

The famous cook shack, home of many great meals

Kris and I talked about my trip in, and the general way of living on the beach at fish camp, while I waited for Robby and the others to come in from the water. We were still among small trees and bushes in the cook shack, so I couldn’t see the water or any of living shacks. After about 15 minutes the troops came in, and I got to meet my family for the next 6 weeks. Robby was tall, thin man with hair graying at the corners and a smile always ready to pop up his face. His glasses and classic derby hat made him look like the classic fisherman, and he did indeed love to fish. When we would begin to pull in heavy loads of fish, he would get excited and let out a whoop like a kid on Christmas morning, opening the present he’d been wanting the most.

Robby in his element- on the water among fishermen

His son in law, Kyle, was gym teacher turned athletic director, and had the look of a gym body and full smile that probably made all the highschool girls giggle. It was his 7th year working with Robby, having married his daughter 2 years ago. Mike was the perfect picture of a hard working fisherman, with a bushy beard and happy-go-lucky attitude. Mike and I would wind up making an especially great friendship, and were the only two who stayed on the beach during fishing season. Wes was a 16 year old who was also fishing salmon for the first time; he was a little strange and had mood swings equivalent to a 14 year old girl. He was fun to work around for the most part tho, and usually made you laugh with his strangeness. A few weeks after I started working, two other kids came to work at fish camp. Tanner was Robby’s nephew, and he brought along his girlfriend Taylor. Besides that, occasionally friends would stop by to visit, and overall really made the camp a friendly place.

Fish camp in the natural

It took me a few days to get the entire way of set netting down, but it was really pretty simple work, and I came to enjoy it. I’d only ever been on the ocean twice before, and never with such involvement. I’ve always appreciated hard work, and set netting offered that, while also allowing plenty of downtime. There was always a positive, fun setting both on the beach and on the water, which was what made fish camp such a great memory and awesome experience. The craziest part of it all was the complete disintegration of the concept of time. We lived, ate, worked, and slept by the tide. Working by headlamps in screaming winds and 6 foot seas was a great part of the adventure of fish camp.

Always serious at fish camp

　　A quick overrun of how set netting works, in lamens terms. We operated out of two small boats. We would load up both boats with nets, consisting of “corks” or small buoys, and leads. Various larger buoys, ropes (lines from a fisherman, don’t ever make the mistake of calling them ropes in front of one) and an extra gas tank finished it up. Bring the boats, individually, to the waters edge and pull them out to deeper water by hand via a “line” attached from shore to a large buoy out to sea. Once deep enough, crank the motor till she catches and head out to the first of 12 sites.Three people working to a boat, or four with the big boss on board, would tie two ends of a net to a buoy, after pulling in 40 yards of soaking wet, slimy line. The other boat would do the same to another buoy, a hundred feet away. At the hand signal, both boats would haul ass directly at each other. As this happened, both boats would have a man letting out line by hand as they went. Soon, the first boat would pitch what they had left and veer out of the way just in time for the second boat to grab the line pitched from the first and haul it into the boat. Immediately, everyone on board would work as quickly as possible to tie the two lines together, before all slack came out of the line and it was pulled out of the boat from the powerful strength of the unseen underwater current. If the crew wasn’t successful, the third crew member would tie in an emergency line when he saw it was getting close. If that failed as well, both boats would gather in the lines and nets, and try again. This was done 12 times, once for each fishing site, which each costed a small fortune to originally purchase.

A boat full of nets ready to be set

           After all nets were set, the boats split up to search for “lead overs”, which were when the net was somehow tangled and needed to be fixed to properly catch fish. Then the boats would wait on the water for an amount of time varying from 5 minutes to 2 hours before turning the nets. At different times of the day, the tide would change direction, and to speed up the process of the nets turning to match, they would be tied to the boats and slowly dragged to face the proper way. After 12 turns, one for each net, one boat would moor at a buoy and its crew would hop into the second boat, which would then beach, like the troops of Normandy minus the gunfire. Everyone would walk up the ramshackle buildings that made up fish camp, strip off their fish gear and tromp on up to the cook shack for a delicious breakfast. Now I should note that this meal would be breakfast, regardless of what time we got in- 8 in the morning or 2 in the afternoon, the first meal was breakfast. Fantastic! Then depending on the tide schedule, there might be time for a cat nap or a movie, before heading out and picking nets in the two boats. Individual boats would motor up to the nets, pull one end of them in, and effectively pull down the net, stripping salmon, flounders, halibut, jellyfish, small sharks, sticks and the occasional octopus from it. Heading back in laden with salmon- the rest got thrown back to the water- the fish would be tossed into large crates with some ice to be taken to the buying station several miles down the road in the back of a truck. By then it was usually time for lunch, consisting of more amazing food made by Kris.

       Another small break if we were lucky, then back out on the boats, this time to pick fish, then pull nets. Stacking nets in a boat full of fish in giant, freezing waves was always interesting. Eventually the boats would make their way to shore, and for the next few hours everyone would be un-stacking and re-stacking nets, chucking fish, washing boats and refilling gas tanks. Off to the buying station your daily catch would go, as you limped your way up to the cook shack to eat more promisingly delicious food. Eventually you would take off your boots, shin full of fish blood and sea water, crawl into bed and lick your most recent wounds. All the while smiling at what you had done that day.

Everyone with some prized Salmon

There was plenty more to be done at fish camp, more then I feel I could even write about. But its strange, because the work was only half the story. The great people I worked with, the beauty of living on the beach (effectively by myself) for almost 2 months, the great road trips I would take on my time off. One day when i had a free space of 36 hours, I rode to Seward, Alaska. On the way back I took a goat trail leading up to a very old mine, with a challenging climb and breath taking sights. Another time I drove to Homer and took a nap on the Spit (a famous beach area) watching wind windsurfers. Tho the “nap” turned into a 6 hour doze, I still managed to wake up in time to go have dinner with a friend. Other days, on time off I would spend it siting with Robby and his family. Watching news on the TV was a strange eye opener- you never hear about whats happening in the world when you live on a motorcycle! They were truly great people, welcoming me into their home without hesitation. With warm showers, wi-fi, and a refrigerator waiting to be plundered, the Williams were some of the most friendly and open people I had met on my travels yet. I even stripped my bike down in their garage and painted it (black, of course).

　　Over the course of my time at fish camp, I made some great friends. I had a great time learning all sorts of things relating to fishing, and the ocean. Witnessing the setting sun over the ocean, covered in fish blood and bits of jellyfish was for some reason very peaceful, like the peace you can only get when seeing something beautiful after working hard all day. There was always a good smile on my face every day, and I was thankful for what life had presented me. It was without a doubt one of the best summers I have ever had, and really added a lot to my adventure in Alaska. I was surprised to find myself so content for such an extended amount of time without a real batch of riding. The time on the beach was so unlike a job that it was easy to think of it as simply helping out friends or family. I‘ll always remember the time I spent as an Alaskan set-netter as a truly awesome time. On the final day, I packed up my sleeping bag and closed the door to my shack, glancing out over the beach and whispering under my breath “So long my friend”.

The beach was always displaying more beauty every chance it had

Climbing the Crown Point Mine Trail

Climbing the Crown Point Mine Trail

The Crown Point Mine trail is off of the Seward Highway, just after Moose Pass, in the southern part of mainland Alaska, on the left heading towards the beautiful town of Seward. I actually found out about it by randomly coming across a really great page for offroading, specifically for dual sport motorcycles, dirtbikes, quads and UTV’s. This is the website. It was on the way to Seward, which I had decided to visit, so I decided to give it a try. I had no idea how crazy of a trail it was, or how rewarding and spectacular the view would be at the top. It was easily one of the most beautiful places I had ever been, and almost certainly the best “why not” adventure I had experience on my bike yet.

I departed fish camp in Kasilof late, around 5 pm. It was a 2 hour ride to Seward and I had to fish at 7AM the next day, but Rome didnt get built in a day, and I didn’t get to where I was by taking the safe way. So after throwing some gas in the black pig and turning up the Taylor Swift in my headphones, I headed out on the road. A Friday night had the roads not exactly empty, but after making it through the town of Soldotna, the traffic petered off and I had the gorgeous afternoon sun all to myself. An hour and a half of windy roads between snow capped mountains, glacial rivers and cliff faces, I pulled onto the Seward Highway, also known as route 9. Another 30 minutes of riding saw me into Seward, where the temperature dropped and the population grew. A small, beautiful, bustling town on coast full of campers, tourists, vacationers and fisherman, it was a sight to take in. Surrounded by enormous, gorgeous mountains all around and the sea buffeting the rocks in the inlet, I could see why many considered this place a must see. There is a small gravel road that leads you out of the busier part of town and takes you along the water, farther out to the true “end of the road”. Here lays a small campground and few dozen vacation homes, with a half empty beach and a seemingly never-ending view of mountains and water.

 I took in the sounds of kids laughing, gulls crying and waves crashing for a little while, then u-turned it back out of town, down the gravel past waterfalls and fishing boats and Subaru's from Washington, onto the Seward highway. I stopped at a strange gas station/grocery store for a Snickers bar and gas and headed for Moose Pass. I decided there was enough time still to try the mine road, I knew I’d be riding in the dark either way at this point (it was already almost 8 oclock in the evening.) It was getting dark nowadays around 10 pm, so a little time in the dark couldn’t hurt right?

I found the turn off to the trail, initially bumping you over some rail road tracks and past half a dozen ramshackle houses. A small kid gave me a hollow stare as i buzzed by, then went back to his Tonka’s. A split in the road with an old wooden sign pointed me left. The trail was obvious, with hard pack and rock, but certainly not big enough for a jeep or truck, and I feel that even a side by side would have real trouble, especially higher up. The thick undergrowth on both sides of the trail was a wall of green, and more often then not, bumped or scratched on my jacket and hand guards as I went. It started out relatively flat, with a few stream crossings and even some wooden planks thrown over some of the more muddy places. After a couple turns and dips, the trail started to climb, and climb it did. Once the uphill started, it continued for the next half hour. Eventually I passed out of the deep dark forest, and the switchbacks turned to rocks and gravel. One side of the trail was a steep, foreboding drop off to the woods far below and all the rest was a giant grassy field, with patches of boulders from the peaks still far above my head. After a while, the view began to distract me from the bike- it was beyond beautiful. The inlet from Seward shone in the distance like a sparkling diamond, and from it trailed the Kasilof River. And everywhere, both sides of the river, stretching to the clouds, were mountains. True, jaw dropping mountains, with the sun falling through the passes and streaming across the meadow that guided me up the trail. Not a sole in sight, no signs of humanity or society, except this tiny, distinct trail that wound its way up as far as I could see. Sometimes a rock would kick my back tire out, and for the smallest second you would imagine bumping off the trail, to an almost certain death thousands of feet to flat ground.

The soothing rumble of the bike beneath me guided me up farther. After what seemed hours, the trail came to an abrupt stop in front of a monstrous cavern. The imprints in the gravel split, but both ended a 100 feet from the bike, where it just became part of the long slope down the rocky wall. I could see a goat path leading on from there, but there was absolutely no chance a bike could make it. I parked the bike, took off my helmet and just stared. I was around 7/8ths of the way to the summit, the rest only obtainable by my own two feet. The cavern before me must have been the result of the mining. Deep down in the depths, no sun reached and there was a patch of snow covering the wall. A small river flowed out of the mountain, presumably from the very mines that had been the result of so much work. Behind me were some twisted remnants of wood and steel with a large cable leading out of it and following the trail back down. All that showed there was anyone else that ever even be here before.

A crumble of rocks to my left brought me out of my daze, and I turned to see a Marmot scrambling across the steep rock face. I couldn’t help but smile at this point, and as I turned back to my bike, my smile grew. The gorgeous, heart stopping view framed my bike, the very machine that had carried me almost 10,000 miles across the country. The sun peeked through the mountains as it set, blowing up the sky with the brightest shades of orange, red and pink. I was living the life I had always told myself to find. I was in quite possibly the most magical place I had ever been. This is what I had set out on this trip to find.

I sighed. I knew I had to leave this amazing place. Work in less then 10 hours, and another 2 hours on the road. Good thing I loved the open road. I saddled up, awakened the old mule and headed back down the trail. The trail was just as steep as I remembered coming up, and I kept it in first, tapping on my brakes so as not to burn them out in the last place I’d ever want to loose the ability to stop. After what seemed an age, I entered shrubbery, trees, and eventually flat ground (never felt so thankful for such a thing). I turned onto the deserted two lane highway, leaving a whispering trail of dust and memories. I tilted my head up to the sky, taking in the mountain I had just climbed with the bike through the failing light. I nodded my goodbye inside my helmet, turned on my fog lights, and set the tires for camp. A good day in my book.

Product review- ICS (Instant Combat Shelter) tent

Product review-
ICS(Instant Combat Shelter) tent

This tent has been across the USA and set up in a more diverse range of environments then I can probably name. While its a little heavy at around 6 1/2 lbs, a lot for a single person tent, it is extremely good quality and has never let me down.

The strengths of this tent are extensive and important. First of all, and what I consider the most important, it is very waterproof. I’ve set this tent up in monsoons, swamps and even snowstorms across the country. It was very important to me to know that no matter what, I had a shelter that was going to keep me dry through whatever weather I encountered. The rainfly on this tent is very strong, and blocks whatever hits the tent. The zippers are also waterproof, as well as the walls and flooring. I was never cold in this tent either, I feel it stops wind from blowing through very well. This tent is actually a blackout tent, meaning with everything set up on it, you can have a light or lantern on inside and not be able to see any light coming through from the outside.

It is a very easy quick tent to setup, and was always a breeze to do even at night when I could hardly feel my hands, or see them. The fact that it clips to the tent with buckles made setup much easier and smoother. I came to appreciate the large vestibule the rainfly formed in the back, roomy enough to fit both my Tusk panniers, riding gear and tank bag. This can be accessed from the outside through a zipper, or from inside the tent via a zippered window as well. Inside, the tent fits one person very well, and I have squeezed into it with my girlfriend and I, tho it was a tight fit and shes very small. (5’2: 110lbs). My height of 6’2” didn’t make my head or feet touch the ends, another good fit. It also packs up pretty well, rolling the tent and rainfly around the three sets of poles.

Other small pluses for this tent was its unique and cool shape, its camouflage and its terrific price for a truly strong and weatherproof shelter. I rarely set it up without the rainfly, but the mesh at the top allows a good view to the sky at night as well.

The negative aspects for this shelter is a much smaller list. The only part that ever let down was when a tent pole snapped, the male end breaking off in one of the female rods. Besides that, it is somewhat heavy for a single person tent. Lastly, because of the one “face” that is very square, if the wind hits this, it can shake the tent pretty well.

The ICS was a good buy for my trip across the country on a motorcycle. I would recommend it for anyone doing a similar trip, but for someone looking more for hiking and backpacking, it may be too heavy for your criteria. It is a very strong, roomy tent for one person traveling anywhere and can be relied upon to keep you dry and warm in the 3 seasons. It can certainly withstand the elements! And helps you blend in to hide from those pesky park rangers.

Product review- Sea to Summit 35 Liter hydraulic dry bags

Product review-
Sea to Summit 35 Liter hydraulic dry bags

I purchased two of these dry bags for their large size, and reviews of strength and durability. I also like the fact that they each have 4 tie down loops, making them very easy to mount to the top of my panniers, or strap to my hiking backpack. With the roll-top closures, its practically a guaranteed waterproof seal. The buckles have replaceable metal pins, in the rare even that they break. The overall quality of these dry bags are superb, and what I have come to find from most Sea to Summit equipment. The 35 liter is the perfect size to fit on top of my motorcycle panniers, and for a backrest or top duffel bag, they offer bigger sizes in the hydraulic series, which I believe are all strong enough to resist abrasion or holes from abrasion, rocks, and whatever else you run into. I certainly feel that this is true.

Driving over Bighorn Pass, WY

On my bike, I put my clothes in these bags, usually in another compression bag to make the most of the space. On my mountaineering backpack, it straps perfectly where the tent or sleeping bag is meant to go, and is often what i put in it. My large sleeping bag, bivy and a small blanket will all fit in them. When I was working at a fishing camp in Alaska, I would often toss my tablet in one and bring it out on the boat, to watch a movie while we waited for the tide to turn. I feel the price of these is also quite reasonable, for their quality. I would absolutely recommend these to anyone interested in keeping their gear or clothes dry in the outdoors, as these can apply to almost any activity and will be sure to hold up to whatever you put them through.

Hiking New Hampshire

Bike gear list

Mnt Ranier sleeping bag - good for-20 degrees.

Military Goretex bivy, adds 10 degrees of warmth to sleeping system

Thermarest NeoAir XTherm air sleeping pad

Improved Combat Shelter (ICS) tent

Explorer Ultralite Asym Zip Hennesey Hammock w/ snakeskins

15’ by 15’ dark green tarp

100ft of Paracord

Small hatchet

Kukri Machete w/ sheath

Survival knife w/sawback, hollow handle, hard sheath, throwing knife, slingshot, compass, paracord handle

Schrade SCH001 locking pocket knife

Gerber Paraframe locking pocket knife

Luci Lantern- inflatable solar waterproof lantern

The Slacker camping stool

(2) HydroFlask 32OZ wide mouth insulated water bottle

Black Diamond Icon headlamp & extra batteries (AA)

Princeton Tec headlamp & extra batteries (AAA)

Ozark Trail rechargeable LED Flashlight

20 glowsticks, varying sizes & colors

(2) GearTie twisties

Small orienteering compass

Small pair binoculars

Diamond knife sharpener

Thermarest patch-it kit, extra buckles & tent rip sealant

Bugnet hat

Pyle watch [Altimeter, Barometer, timer, compass]

Anker 14W Dual-port Solar charger

Anker 16000mAH external battery 

Samsung Galaxy S3 w/ Lifeproof case & charger

FIIO X1 Mp3 player w/ 128 GB sd card, cord & case

Goal Zero Rock Out speaker case & cord

HP EliteBook 8440P laptop, with Pelican laptop case, extra extended battery & charger

{Kingsoft Writer, GoPro software, VLC Media player, Cyberlink Powerdirect 12, Google Earth, Garmin Express software}

WD My Passport Ultra 2 TB external hard drive & cord

(2) GoPro H3+, w/ cases, sticky mounts, pole, chest mount, head mount, suction mount, floaty,  helmet strap, (3) sd cards 

Garmin eTrex 20 handheld GPS

Nikon Coolpix- AW110- Waterproof digital camera w/ GPS, world maps, wifi

Chatterbox helmet communicator & cord

(3) pair earbuds

Sumo Jetboil, w/ pot lock, utensil kit, stabilizer, cup, 3 Isobutane fuel canisters (8 OZ & 16 OZ)

MSR Flex Skillet

5 BIC lighters

5 small boxes of waterproof matches & waterproof match container

Sea to Summit AlphaLight Long Spork, for eating out of MRE bags

Sea to Summit Xbowl

Sea to Summit Xplate

Several plastic sporks

Several Scotchbrite pads, for cleaning dishes

2 containers of mixed spices (GSI Spice Missile container)

Sawyer mini water filtration system

Outdoors Etekcity mini camping stove (cheap spare)

(2) Bottle of Multi-Vitamins

Toothbrush, container, toothpaste, toilet paper, mouthwash

Shampoo, body wash, soap, container, deodorant, tick twister, comb

(3) Sea to Summit Ultra-Sil View dry bags

(2) Sea to Summit Hydraulic dry bags

Sea to Summit compression dry sack

Sea to Summit clear stopper dry bag

Sea to Summit dry back pack

Outdoor Products lightweight dry sack

Random stuff sack w/ drawstring for dirty clothes

Fischer running fanny pack w/ water bottle

(2) Ratchet straps

(3) Adjustable bungee cords

(2) Adjustable buckle straps

(2) Master locks

Ortlieb waterproof tank bag

(2) large Wolfman Rolie side tank panniers

(2) Tusk Adventure racks & panniers

Seahorse SE-630 case

(2) Wolfman bottle holster

(4) Rok Pack straps

Ricochet Skidplate

SW-Motech crashbars

Tusk front fender bag

Tusk handlebar mitts

Tusk crossbar pad

Seat Concepts seat

Rizoma mirrors

Titanium levers

Carbon fiber hand guards

Zero Gravity ST windshield

EM Superbrace

Acerbis front fender

Moose Racing front pegs

Moose Racing rear master cylinder guard

Happy Trails center stand

Magnetic drain plug

Ram X-grip

Big Gun Evo R exhaust

Happy Trails dashboard

Headlight guard/shield

Pair of 10w driving lights

Subframe bolt upgrade kit

(2) AgriSupply tool tubes

Eibach 500lb rear spring

Happy Trails progressive fork springs

Top Gun extended foot lever

Extended headlight guard

Doohickey upgrade kit

2 1/2 gallon spare no-spill gas tank

12” LED extra taillight  (bottom of top box)

Heated handgrips

Cut side stand 3/4”

Removed license plate bracket; mounted to rear fender

Fly Racing Trekker dual sport helmet 

Jilbo Snow Tiger photochomic goggles

100% motorsports tinted goggles

Fly Racing Terra Trek III jacket

Triple lined riding pants

Danner waterproof boots

Pair Icon PDX waterproof gauntlets

Columbia trekking pants

6 athletic style t-shirts

3 athletic style long sleeve shirts

3 sweatshirts

1 windbreaker jacket

6 pair underwear

2 pair Carhart padded work pants, 2 pair normal Carhart work pants, 1 pair blue jeans

Frog Togg rain jacket & rain pant

Body Glove 3T max water shoes

6 pairs black Hind hydrasocks. 2 pairs Darn Tough socks, 1 pair Goretex socks

Life Is Good baseball cap

2 cold weather hats

2 pairs sunglasses

2 sets long underwear/long johns

2 pair athletic shorts

1 pair glove/mitten conversions, 1 pair warm weather gloves, 1 pair fleece lined gloves

1 pair Keene hiking shoes

Stock Kawasaki tool bag

JB Weld

Assorted wrenches

Socket wrench & assorted sockets, extensions

Zip ties

Electrical tape

Superglue

Allen head set

Spare bolts for plastics

Blue Loctite

Pliers

Wire strippers

1 Quart of oil

Product review- Fly Trekker III jacket

Fly Trekker III Jacket

I bought this jacket for several different reasons that appealed to me. The jacket had a removable thermal liner, zip out, allowing for riding in cool and warm riding. It certainly kept me warm in all my riding conditions, and if it ever got chilly, a simple long sleeve took up and extra chill that crept in. It was also pretty waterproof, I would give it 80 or 90 percent waterproof rating. A particularly strong storm in Wyoming while I was crossing Big Horn Pass with snow, sleet, rain and hail still did not get through the jacket, and I was dry while my fellow riders were soaked to the bone. I think these two factors, combined with its great bargain-like price, were the jackets most outstanding features. I would say its pretty hard to find warm, waterproof riding jacket for less than 180$. Even the pockets were 100% waterproof, with lined walls, and zippers as well as over-flaps for each pocket. The enormous pocket on the lower back was very handy, and the fact that the jacket went past my waist was great and helped in both comfort, and weatherproofing. It certainly looks good too, the reflective piping is just enough to be visible but still look stylish.

The jacket fit me well, i am 6’ 2” 205 lbs, and I decided to get an XL so I could wear clothes underneath the jacket if neccessary. I have a more thing waist but broad shoulders and long arms, and the XL fit me excellent at the waist, arms and chest. There are multiple adjustment points on the arms and waist which really allowed me to perfect the fit, such as tightening my arms but loosening my waist to fit my riding pants. There are also multiple zip open/close spots on the back and shoulders which really worked well- when it was especially warm, you could open the shoulders and fresh wind would buffet down into your back and feel heavenly.

The downfall of this jacket, I believe, was the build quality. Alot of small features on the jacket wound up falling apart, which alone would not have been a big deal, but combined became annoying. The velco on the pockets and cuffs would begin to fray quite soon, and eventually start coming off the jacket on the backside where it was glued to the jacket. The main zipper head broke off and I had to attach a small carabiner to it so it could be operated, especially with gloves on. Multiple points of the thread came undone, mostly at the corners of the chest pockets. The included armor felt pretty cheap and small, and while I fortunately never got to test it out, I questioned its strength.

I have put approximately 4500 miles on this jacket, including a cross country trip from Vermont to Alaska. I would give it a 7 out of 10, mostly because for its price, its an great jacket that does keep you warm and dry, even in the craziest weather. The small details like stitching, velcro and zipper tabs didnt hold up for long, but the important details held up just fine. For 180$ jacket to get me to Alaska, I was pretty happy!

The ferry trip north

Today marks the 6th day that I have been aboard the Alaskan Marine highway ferry Kennicott. I boarded in Bellingham, Washington and will be disembarking in Whittier, Alaska. It has been an amazing trip, and much to my surprise, one an experience that I will not soon forget. I’ve met some amazing people from all over the world, witnessed amazing sights, and for the first time in a long time, been able to truly relax. The passage of beautiful snow capped mountains, snorting whales and playful dolphins has been magical, given the lack of worry and thought. It’s by far the most expensive thing I have done for myself that is “relaxing”, tho I only took this boat because it proved to be my only way to get the motorcycle and myself to Alaska.

Chris & I at 10,000ft on Mnt. Baker

I had been staying with my good friend, Chris, in Bellingham while i searched for a way to Alaska. The Canadian border crossing was proving difficult because of some issues with my passport. I spent three days tramping about the local docks, and even traveled to Seattle in search of a fishing boat or barge that could transport me and my bike to mainland Alaska. But everyone I talked to could not, whether it be because of no room, only traveling to the islands, or being worried about insurance issues. 

Strapped down in the belly of the ferry

Waiting for news of the ferry

I spent another day at the border, even applying for a temporary traveling visa, but that was to no avail as well. A day on the phone with the airlines told me that it would cost me 1100 dollars alone to ship my bike to Anchorage, and to do so I would have to drain it of all fluids; my personal ticket would be another $500. The local ferry system had not been open all week to try to figure out something with, and online everything said there was no trip to the mainland until September. Waiting until the day the ferry left, my only option, I talked with the officials and got my name on the waiting list, the best I could do because all spots were apparently booked. Luck finally came through for me, and I boarded the ferry 3 hours before departure. I was joyous beyond words, I had finally found a way to Alaska! While it was not cheap, at a total cost of about 1400$, it was well worth it, as it would soon prove. 

Enjoying the view

A sunset on board

Among the next 6 days, I quickly got used to life on board, and I came to truly enjoy the relaxed nature, and came to make friends with several people from all over the world. A German man was backpacking from British Colombia to Juneau, then ferrying to Whittier and hiking all the way back down to Arizona. A Spaniard on a lifetime goal of visiting the last frontier told me of his many travels across the globe. A fisherman from Seattle was ditching the daily grind to explore Alaska in his truck. A married man from Georgia was hiking through the territories for his own soul searching. A biker was heading home to Fairbanks, Alaska and had many recommendations for the road ahead. A Venezuelan woman was working on the ferry system as a way to make money and explore the coast. 

Such a huge cultural range of people, communication and experience made the trip so much more then a simple ride to Alaska, and when coupled with the amazing views and variable wildlife, I was almost dreading the end of the trip. But another part of me was anxious and excited about what lay ahead- I was going to be exploring the great state of Alaska alone, on my bike, with no time restraints or worries. I felt truly freed from the strain of society, and at peace for the first time since I

had set out on my trip. I found myself smiling randomly while I sat on the deck, overlooking the massive ocean around me. A look at the GPS, showing me the thousands of miles I was from my small cabin in Vermont, never failed to bring one up again. I had finally made the dream I wanted for myself, a reality. 

Last sunset for a long time! (sun never sets in Alaska)

Across the USA on a KLR 650- done!

I left my Vermont home 11 days ago. Since then, I have driven thousands of miles on my awesome, trusty Kawasaki KLR 650. I've slept in abandoned parks, been held by border patrol, stared down by buffalo, laughed till I cried, met great new people and reunited with old friends. The best part is, this is merely the beginning of the adventure that I am shaping my life into. With only a week and half down, and so much amazing things experienced, I feel extremely happy with my decision to abandon my previous life, and live on the road.

When me and my two friends set off from Vermont, we could only guess at what lay ahead. We had a small group of friends there to say goodbye to us, each mentioning their own bits of advice and humor. With an official flag drop, we pulled out of the drive and set off. We had to address some issues with my driving license before the border, so we took a small detour to the state capitol, before making north to the Canadian border. We were held there for about 6 hours, before I was denied access because of two small scratches on my record that translated to a bigger deal in Canadian law. We decided to head west while I figured out my next step. 

We made our way across the top of Vermont into New York, down along western border and into Pennsylvania. The beautiful roads country side reminded us of home, but was a great experience as we got used to long distance on our bikes. We road across Ohio, Indiana, Illinois and into Iowa- what we all considered the more boring part of the country. Long flats of farmlands, long hauls at high speeds and a sketchy experience in Canton, OH. Up into South Dakota and into Wyoming, we witnessed the first of the truly beautiful country, including Mount Rushmore, the Badlands, the Black Hills and Yellowstone National Park. Riding across the great plains that we had heard so much about, the trip finally began to seem legitimate. 

We wound our way through the hills of Montana and came to the deserted town outside the western entrance of Glacier National Park, where the group split up- Mike & Jeremy heading north for a direct entrance into Canada and straight shot for Alaska while I headed further west to find a boat to bring me to Alaska. I navigated myself though the southern route of Glacier Park, one of the most amazing rides of my life. I crossed Idaho into Washington state, ending up in the port town of Bellingham at an old friends house.

 I sit now in the beautiful town, listening to the sounds of a bustling but clean city, considering the next part of my trip. The challenge of finding a boat to the north would prove to be a challenge, as most fishing vessels had already set to sea, the local ferry was mostly booked, and most other possibilities required some sort of Canadian interaction. I'm not too concerned with what lies ahead, mostly because I know that no matter what, it will come together. If it was easy, it wouldn't be an adventure. I've found that traveling solo more suits me and what I am looking to experience, both on the road and in camp. I've gotten to meet new riders and chat with them, eat when and where I want, and explore areas alone. 

Julie has made it to the camp in Chickaloon, AK where she works as a glacier guide and says that its super cool, lowkey place. The two riders are somewhere along the Alaskan Highway now, hopefully they don't get eaten by bears or rabid squirrels. In the mean time, I'll hunt down a way to get north and continue exploring. Stay tuned, my friends!

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Cheers!

24 hours

I’m sitting in the basement of my good friend Jeremy’s home. He’s upstairs, madly pawing through boxes, bags and containers of gear, working on sorting everything. My other great friend Mike is on his way here now, driving his KLR through the lightning, thunder and pouring rain. Our great friend Julie departed yesterday in her 1987 Chevy G20 van, leaking oil and guzzeling gas; the first of us to start on the road north. Because of the van’s characteristics, we decided to let it get a head start to Wyoming, where we will meet back up with it. In two days time, the three of us are leaving on our motorcycles for Alaska, and things are about as hectic as a one legged man in an ass kicking contest around here. I’m lucky enough to be the most prepared of us all, and decided to take this time to sit and write on my blog, listening to Jeremy’s frantic footsteps above my head. 

The last week, not to mention the last two days, have been an adventure in their own way. One of the most interesting part of this whole trip is everyone's unique story, and how it all combines together into this crazy, awesome adventure to explore life on the open road. 

Last night, all three of us did the “Doohickey’s” on our KlR’s, a part of the timing chain adjustment system. That within itself involved pulling apart three bikes motors, running out to get oil and filters when the ones we had were wrong, and figuring out what we were even supposed to be doing. Mike’s turned out to be already done, which saved an hour, but it still took all day between the three of us. Reusing the gaskets and bolting on last minute modifications like driving lights and air injection delete systems, we were calling it close. It was an even closer call when upon startup the next morning, Jeremy’s bike was emitting a constant whirring sound from the chaincase. After several hours of frantic research and phone calls to fellow KLRista’s, we discovered it was a slightly common thing and were going to go with it as is. One storm cloud passed. 

At the moment, the biggest issue lies in everyone organizing their gear and packing it on their bikes in the easiest, strongest and most balanced way possible. I’m still waiting for my new set of glasses, and the gear that ThermaRest is sending me as part of their support for my trip. Mike has spent all day organizing his gear, 90% of which he still hasn’t used. Something tells me Jeremy will be fretting long into the night and early into the morning about his gear setup. (He’s just now walked in, arms full of MRE’s and a look on his face like he doesn’t believe this is real)

Then there’s the van crew, which consists of Julie and two people whom she hardly knows, Dillan and Allsion, who are fellow employees at the glacial guiding camp where we are all heading to in Chickaloon, AK. Latest report from them, a quick message from Facebook, consisted of a list of factoids. The van was slowly but surely leaking oil, despite the 8 hour oil pan job I had done two days prior. Also, 60 MPH was the destined top speed because apparently it starts to overheat at any speed higher then that. However, Walmart was still our savior; Julie loaded up on oil for the trip. They had made it to Ohio. And Bob, the resident cat, had decided to show what he thought of the whole thing and defecat-ed all over the floor underneath the bed in the back.

The evening is drawing to a close, and soon I must ride up to my house and button it up for what most likely will several years of vacancy, interjected by brief visits from friends to make sure no bears had layed a nest in my bedroom, or the family of squirrels hadn’t moved back into the kitchen. There are three more motorcycles in the living room, one each belonging to Jeremy, Julie and I. For the first time in my life, I will be moving away from the place I had always called home, since I was a wee little baby. The full concept of what we were undertaking hadn’t really hit any of us yet, tho we would burst out with laughter ar random moments when the thought would strike our mind. However, with the fact that I would not be returning home for many years, while the other two riders would be coming back after about two months, I felt like I had more to realize than the others. I had always had a longing for life on the road, living with what was on my bike and enjoying the beauty around me. But as with any life-changing event that finally happens, the scale of it can sometimes surprise even the most prepared. 

So now I embark on the beginning of my new life, out into the great world that has remained hidden from me for so very long. While the idea of what I now face is enormous, nothing has ever excited me more. As Buzz Lightyear says- “ Into the great blue yonder!”

TDG