The scene at Coldfoot was very different this second time round. Only two bikes there other than ours. We left later the next morning, and took a leisurely ride down the Dalton to Fairbanks. While it seemed easy, there were a few places where roving Alaskan rain showers had passed through, leaving the road wet and slippery. Ready to catch the unaware biker.

As we drove South we passed ten or fifteen bikers headed North, stoked to do what we had done . Coldfoot would be buzzing tonight. We met some of them at the Yukon Crossing -- men from New Zealand, Argentina, California. The challenge attracts all sorts. Not many women in the groups. There is something special about this ride that brings in people from all over -- the mystery of the Alaskan frontier -- the potential danger on the road -- the amazing scenery -- the uniqueness of the geographic position -- the fraternal welcome at Coldfoot and Deadhorse.

Wouldn't have missed it.