Dinner at Coldfoot is a boisterous affair. People are friendly. Those going North are getting psyched for the effort. Those just back from Deadhorse regale us with their stories. One crazy man had gone up and back (480 miles of gravel road) in a day. A group of Brazilian motorcyclists (one from Foz do Iguacu) were there, doing the run for the second time. A couple from Bellingham, WA in a motorcycle w/sidecar decided that the rigors of the road were too much for them, and call it quits.   A family from New York City going fly - in rafting in the Brooks Range listens and eats. Truckers chow down in their separate section of the dining hall. Not cheap, the food is plentiful and delicious. A fellow I had met for the first time at the Yukon River crossing and I decide to attempt the final leg of the Dalton Highway together.

The name Coldfoot has nothing to do with temperature . The town, located on the Dalton Highway half way between Fairbanks and Deadhorse, sits at the Southern edge of the Brooks Range. The mountains are just beginning to get tall. The name originated when a group of prospectors in the early 1900's decided the route into the hills was too much for them, and turned around. I don't think I have ever been in a more remote location. The Tundra and the Yukon Flats to the South. The Brooks Range to the North. And hundreds of miles of pristine Arctic forest in all directions. There is a can-do atmosphere about everything and everybody. There is gas, electricity, hot water and even wi fi available, but only because someone struggled against huge odds to get it working.    The parking lot is full of huge semi’s, big pickups, motorcycles, bicycles (yes !! ) and two live-in vans, home to a couple of marathon runners (from Argentina) and their wives (from Belgium). They plan to run marathons every day until they reach Ushuaia (the opposite end of the continent). Power to them .

This first half of the Pipeline Haul Road, also called the Dalton Highway, which runs 500 mi from Fairbanks to Deadhorse, was not that hard. Maybe a third of it was semi-paved, much more than I expected. The rest was not really gravel, but hardened clay mixed with calcium chloride which turns to soap if wet. Gives an edge to the prospect of rain. As far as I was concerned the biggest hazard was the bridge across the Yukon. It has a wooden platform, and is built on a 6% incline. Should it get wet, it would become extremely slippery, with dangers accentuated by the slope. Stories of motorcyclists who had foundered on the wet bridge circulated.

The ultimate determinant of how dangerous the trip would be was the weather. We all hung on the forecasts, defining our plan of attack according to the probability of rain. Tomorrow looked good. We are on for 6:00 am.