PEDALING THE DALTON

Whoever buys into the logic that "a road by another other name is still a road," has never tried pedaling the Dalton. They really should invent a new name for the Dalton Highway like, "Tire-Smasher," or "Rim-Wrecker," or maybe "Mud-Slinger from Hell."  Or how about just plain,"Mean, Nasty?"

As I write, my recumbent lies bruised and battered in a bike hospital in Fairbanks--the ICU wing. It has a pulled groin chain, the left brake is hemorhaging, the sprocket is caked in mud, and the gears are misfiring. Thanks, Dalton Highway. 

Honestly, I have climbed much taller mountains in Washington, Montana, and even New Hampshire, but I've never been on steeper roads than on the Dalton.  At times you just look off into the distance at the long ribbon of dirt road vamping up as if a rocket launch and you wonder, can I even get up to the top?  I've even had to PUSH my bike up the final stages of the climb.  

Yet, the Haul Road--its original name--has a history that is rich with vistas rarely seen by human eye.  Prior to 1968, the road didn't exist. That is, until they discovered gold--black gold. The Trans-Atlantic Pipeline became a pet project of Congress and in a time of oil crisis in the US; over $100,000,000 was dumped into creating a pipeline that could handle severe weather conditions, withstand dangerously low temperatures, could pipe oil over mountain ranges, beneath permafrost, and jump over the wide-mouthed Yukon River.  Incredibly, in 1974 the accompanying Dalton Highway was constructed in only five months, and in 1994, the road was opened to the general public and not just oil riggers.

This morning as we rode, we encountered low temperatures and muddy roads that wound up, up, up onto the summit of Beaver Slide and later, the Finger Mountains.  We were wet, cold, exhausted, but at the top of this section of "Rim Wrecker," we could see miles and miles behind us of the snake-coiling, twisting, gritty Dalton.  

What an exhilerating way to end our ride--fighting for every inch of road, taking on water from the sky, seeing rare beauty, and knowing that we had achieved an extraordinary accomplishment.

Maybe it's time to put Mud-Slinger from Hell on your bucket list.  It may crack your windshield and baptize you in mud, but if you live through the Dalton Experience, you'll discover the greatest beauty this side of heaven.