Peeking out from my motel room in Broadus, MT, it looked like another nice morning. I was in no hurry, however, as I only had about 150 miles to go. Ural looked poised and ready. He understood nothing about what I'd gone through in the Canadian Rockies two days before, though he'd stuck with me through it all.
I feel bad for him, really. I know that sounds silly. For nearly four years, Ural has done for me what he was designed to do. But what I want (what I
need to do what I want) is above and beyond his capabilities. It's not his fault.
I still hit the road by 7:00, and within two hours was in that little triangle of Wyoming, created by the crossing of Highway 212. A storm was on the horizon, and I wondered whether I'd have to go through it. This could get exciting before it's over! I knew there wasn't any shelter to speak of before Belle Fourche, SD.
I had no need to stop here, except to take what I figured would be the last photos of the trip. Oh, I guess I might have taken off my sunglasses. I'd neglected to do that once as I approached a monster thunderhead in New Mexico. It had made a harrowing few minutes even more so!
Circling the bike, I noticed the little Canadian flag pin on my saddlebag. There are actually two - U.S. on the left, Canada on the right. They've been there since our south to north crossing of Idaho, the year that was supposed to be Ural's first attempt at the Arctic - the year when COVID changed all our plans. Dan and I made it to the border, could see the maple leaf flying from its pole, but could not enter. We'd known that would be the case, so we weren't surprised. But I'd vowed to return!
At least Ural and I had finally traveled through Canada - if not nearly as far north as planned. Quite an accomplishment, really - for a motorcycle with mostly 1940's technology, and a rider with a misguided or outright rebellious immune system.
Making it to Tuktoyaktuk and back would have required at least one tire change, one oil change, and 1,100 miles of rough gravel riding - that wouldn't even begin for another 1,700 miles after the point I turned around. Of course, that doesn't include any required flat repairs or other issues.
Yes, I had the necessary tools, equipment, and experience for all that. But it may have been that experience that did me in. I knew all too well how difficult those things are on this machine, especially with the additional challenges that MS has brought. I had barely been able to do the pre-trip maintenance in the comfort of my garage, working only short stints at a time. The Arctic looks much like the photo above - except the road can be pure mud. And the mosquitoes can be big as dragonflies. There are very few garages on the tundra - likely, no shelter of any kind.
To put it embarrassingly bluntly, I had turned around in the Canadian Rockies for one simple reason - I was afraid. I feared what might happen there - and what I knew lay ahead, if I continued. There you have it - the answer to the question, "What exactly went wrong?"
I pulled into my garage at 10:30, with around 150 miles on the trip-meter for the day. I had gotten a bit wet in Wyoming, but only a little. By the time I'd left the gas station in Belle Fourche, SD, the clouds had parted - and the headwind had kicked up! There's always a headwind coming into Rapid City, it seems.
If you've read my book, North to Wrigley, you may recognize the silver box on the top shelf in the upper right corner of this photo. Yes, it's my "unibox" - from twelve years ago! It hasn't borne motorcycle luggage for at least ten now, but I just can't throw it out.
Come to think of it, it might fit perfectly on the back of a Can-Am Ryker Rally - a three-wheeler of a different sort. I'm putting a deposit down on one tomorrow - a month after this photo was taken. I sold the Ural, an excruciating decision - as the death of a dream always is. But it just may be that having a dream is more important than fulfilling one. So I'm looking toward the future again. I don't yet know if a Ryker is Tuk material or not, but by this time next year - I just might!
