Pushing It (gas) To Delta
“Gas?” the young lad yelled as he rode his John Deere lawnmower in my direction.
I was just 300 yards from the Texaco Station in Delta Junction when my bike puttered to a stop. And the only gas I carried at the time was some remaining white gas (camp stove fuel) for my MSR stove. I’m sure the Dakar would have run on this more refined fuel, but a good samaritan was cruising my way.
“Yeah. I almost made it,” pointing to the Texaco station as I tried to hide my embarrassment. Just an hour earlier I blew through the town of Tok opting to test the fuel endurance of my bike than stop. You see, I needed to make it to Fairbanks before 5pm so I could connect with George at Trail’s End BMW and pick up my computer.
Ezra, a tall skinny boy with reddish hair is the grounds keeper at the Delta Junction Visitor’s Center. “I was in San Diego not long ago,” he quipped after getting the download on me and where I rode in from. I stuffed a $10 in his hand.
Minutes later I was filling up at the Texaco.
“Just pump it in and pay,” the native girl told the woman riding in the pick up truck toting a boat, boyfriend and his two children.
“Everywhere is different, I just never know,” she tried to explain her motives and not appear too much a tourist.
“You’re in Delta– where we still trust people,” said the man in the back of the store by the rotating hotdog cooker wearing a greasy mesh baseball cap and sporting a golf ball size of chew which protruded from his lower lip.
I jotted the mileage and fuel consumption when the woman complained to her boyfriend, “they ignore me. I asked if they wanted anything. They don’t even look at me. I’ll just get us something,” she ran back into the station to pay for her fuel and grab soft drinks and snacks.
Separation and divorce is never easy on kids. Not easy on anyone. I feel for her — and the kids.
But not my problem, which is simply getting to Fairbanks and finding George’s place before he closes up for the evening.
So I never have quite figured out why they don’t put gas gauges on all bikes. Or it could be that I havn’t ridden a bike in that long?…
Keeping up with you Alan! Even if it is Aug 5th your posting now. Where are you now?
ERG
For $10 bucks, he could have washed those bugs off the windshield. Geez Allan!
Hi Alan,
Is there any reason you would put fuel in the bike rather than pushing the final 300 yards? Eric, the posting is August ’05 as in 2005. I think this is current.
I’m just shy of the mexican border getting ready to go south very soon…
some bikes have those gauges…
but when the reserve light goes on I have a few miles (about 50) i was trying to play the conserve fuel easy on the throttle game…
I’m trying to get the journals up to date. lotta work this worldriding stuff. world writing too. but trying to keep it interesting and match some good photos with the journals…
stay tuned… it gets better. I promise
I’m glad you’re getting the “bugs” out early
in your journey. with 45m miles to go you should be well experienced with the glitches.
Keep on Biking. Love the trip.
Moose
Allan…sounds like a great adventure!!! I was just catching up on your posts. Call me if you get bored…
BRENNER
Hey AK…we’re loving your ride! I wish we knew exactly where you were; my wife Diane said we should meet you in Mexico!
Watch out for that PEMEX gasoline, Bro!
Allan — Great ride, I’ve been living your ride (daily!) via my office in northern NJ. Stay safe!
Alan,
Love reading the installments, can’t wait for the next one.
P 😉
AFK,
I’m paying bills and setting up a soccer practice. What the f… over.
See you in Europe.