Ice Road Bikers

[lonerider]

From news24 https://www.wheels24.co.za/Content/BikesQuads/BikingNews/71/a155ce071c9445e488dbc7d33c0cb063/27-08-2009-10-25/Ice_road_bikers

Heading down Canada’s ice road is not for wimps. This year, when the thermometer plummeted to -35 degrees and the Mackenzie river froze to a snaking white ice road, the “Wreckers” from Germany’s W&W Cycles took their customised Harleys where no Harley has gone before.

Finally you’re really here.

Yes, you feel prepared. There are heavy duty arctic parkas, thermo socks, sports underwear to deal with sweat and woolen undies to catch some warmth. Add to the list, gloves that promise windbreaking superness, balaclavas made of wool and woollen knitted caps and you finally venture outside.

“Hey, it’s not that cold” you think to yourself… and bang!

That’s when the cold hits you in the face like a right hook from Mike Tyson. The full impact of -35 degrees bites into your skin and your lungs respond with short, dry coughs. But hey, this is what we wanted and we knew what we were signing up for. Today is the first day, and the big one, at that; today we get the bikes on the road.

Well that’s if you can call this a road. Tuktoyaktuk, in Canada’s Northwest Territories, can only be reached by road-going vehicles when it’s cold enough for the Mackenzie River to freeze up. This is when they plough a road on top of the frozen river all the way to Tuktoyaktuk on the Beaufort sea.

Tuktoyaktuk. Population 1 000, gas stations 1, supermarkets 1 and yes, 1 cemetery. Alsom there’s one precinct of the RCMP (Royal Canadian Mounted Police) and we pay them a short visit, just to let them know we’re here. In case someone can’t stand the prattle-prattle of the bikes.

We came up here with two Milwaukee Hogs that have been prepared for the ultimate challenge - to determine if there’s a way to ride a 48 Pan and a 2005 custom Shovel at -35 degrees, on ice. And if we can succeed at all, for how far. With windchill taken into account, the already freezing temperatures will plummet to a staggering -57 degrees.

Finally we have the bikes on the road. The bikes are preheated in the truck, well as much preheating that can be done at -10 degrees inside the truck. The batteries had been charged onboard the support truck. Kick the chunks of steel to life. Ignition. Pressure point. Kick. KICK! Kick harder...nothing. Okay, the bikes have been sitting in the deep freezer for a long time now. Give it another try. Nothing. And again. Nada. Nope. Zero. Zilch. No sign of life.

We try a pull-start. Kinda funny seeing a Harley being pulled by a 10m rope tied to an Merc Vario truck, but hey, if it works who gives a damn? Which it doesn’t. Not even after the fifth try. Looks like we’ll have to pack up the bikes. But there's a plan! Get them running at a heated place and then get them back on the road. Good plan. But finding a warm place in these parts is a rather tall order.

Some trying technical obstacles later and the bikes are running and the road is open. The studded wheels bite their way across Tuktoyaktuk with its streets are neatly covered with snow – just like the rest of this place.

Nice riding conditions today, heading out of town we pass the cemetery. Out to the Beaufort-Sea, towards the Mackenzie’s mouth and the start of the ice road.

What do you wear to stave off cold of -57 degrees? Apart from some fashion details, we settle on the onion-style. Multi layers of breathable cotton and quality wool, all with long sleeves. On top of all that, the Canada Goose Resolute Parka. Woollen socks to stick into arctic-proof boots. The head protected by a balaclava and a woollen hat, parka-hood optional.

To seal it all up nice and tight we wear prototypes of Aerostich overalls, the result of a long-time personal relationship between Aerostich and W&W. The final layer in our onion clothing approach. And the hands? Snowboard-gloves score best on our field test, with their reassuring thick quality still leaving some sensitivity to the fingertips. There are also special wind deflectors fixed to the handlebars, plus heated control grips. Doesn’t sound too bad.

But it isn’t nearly enough, we discover after some likes of riding.

At first it is pure pleasure. No, it is mind-blowing. The road, the ice, the landscape, the vastness, the endless white. It is easy to blank out little details like cold fingers. But you can’t deny it for long.

The cold creeps in with every mile ridden, through every kind of material or fabric. Heated controls just slow down this process, but the moment comes when the cold really digs its fangs into your fingers. It hurts a bit at first, but the man in you keeps on riding. Then the aching increases. And then it is gone. Not because the cold has disappeared, but because your body is abandoning your finger...

Only if, as happens to us, the bike runs out of gas and you have to stop for refuelling and change your gloves do you realise that one or two of your fingers have already suffered frostbite. Looks like a good moment to put the riding on hold and get the bikes and the fingers back into the warmth. Some minor technical fumbling. Some major steaks.

Gooood morning! The two fingers don’t feel too good. Numb on the outside, the interior throbbing madly. The skin pale, a bit like a burn. But there are still eight fingers in mint condition. So back on the bikes and out along the ice road. The Wrecking Crew still has to clock some miles, but both Harleys are already shining their tail lights at the Beaufort Sea. Waiting ahead: the Mackenzie River.

On the frozen river, we ride mile after mile between the white, the endlessness and the vast nothing. Suddenly, as if somebody switched them on, crippled conifers pop up on the snowy banks. It's life vs. climate 1:0.

We enter the Mackenzie Delta and its 50-km wide expanse. It’s decent riding over here, especially now that we found out that riding works better without a helmet. A neoprene face mask to cover neck and mouth, woolen hat, parka-hood on top. Goggles? Nope. Double glass or ventilated, the difference in temperature is simply too big and every goggle gets fogged in no time.

Handling the bike on ice is much harder with the studded tires. The steering feels twitchy, and you cannot go any faster than 40 mph (64 km/h). The ice road is – it goes without saying – far from being perfectly smooth so you have to constantly watch out for cracks, holes and grooves.

And with the cracks running in the direction you’re riding, it can get quite tricky and you have to be quick on the brakes. If the front tyre slips into one of those cracks, the bike just tries to follow it. You have to really fight to get it out of the groove again.

The ride on the ice doesn’t show any bigger problems, but the steering of the Panhead is getting harder with every mile and every degree of cold. As if someone had swapped the bearing grease for chewing gum. But only the Panhead is affected, why not the Shovel? Some hard thinking reveals the Panhead relies on old school ball bearings. You know: just balls, no cages. And these need a lot of grease to install them. Lots of grease means lots of stuff to go solid in freezing conditions.

Good thing the Wreckers are experienced riders. Up the Mackenzie we ride. The trees get bigger, the banks rise and then there’s a harbour ahead. Or at least what’s left of a harbour during the arctic winter. Ships, cemented in the ice. And riding between the mammoth vessels is the Wrecking Crew on their big twins.

Arriving at the harbour also means we are pretty close to Inuvik, our final farewell from the ice road.

The friggin’ cold, the pure light, the endless landscape, the odd people, the strange experiences. We will miss it. Maybe in a few weeks, maybe quite soon, maybe when rolling down the Dempster Highway, across the Richardson Mountains, southbound.

Because there always will be another End Of The Road somewhere out there.

 

[LeonDude]

 

[Slainte Mhaith]

 

[RobCrouch]