Daybreak in the park finally came with sunshine and clear skies, as well as myriad tiny ziplock baggies on the ground throughout the area near the tent. I wandered back into the woods a bit to see where the folks had been coming from past our tent all night and saw a lone popup trailer hidden in the trees away from the camping area. I saw the “lady” I’d seen the night before in heels and short skirt walking outside the popup and realized it must be her place of business as well as a source of meth or whatever was being bought in the little baggies.
We got the tent dried and loaded asap, then headed for The Motorcycle Shop, the BMW dealer in Anchorage, for fork seals for Kim’s 700. I’d planned on replacing them with Fanda at his host’s garage but that didn’t work out. The service guy was happy to book us in for the work and as we waited for the bike to be finished, the trip through Candyland began...
First on the list was to find a pair of waterproof boots for The Iron Butterfly. Her Sidi boots were not waterproof and she’d mistakenly brought them north rather than her other ADV boots. As we hit the rains in the Yukon and Alaska we’d had to put her feet in bags until finding some waterproof socks in Whitehorse, and then had no luck finding boots at the dealership in Fairbanks. That wasn’t the case in Anchorage where they had a great selection of gear. She bought a pair of Gaerne waterproof boots and I found a new Kilimanjaro jacket in 2XL. My older Kathmandu jacket was good and waterproof but it was neither warm in the cold or cool in the heat. I was ready for something else.
Honey, does this jacket make me look fat??
We boxed up her old boots and my old jacket for UPS and then wandered back down to the sales floor. We were hanging around the new 1200 water boxers when Andrew, the sales manager, came over to ask us about our trip and such. In conversation about South America I shared that I was considering an 800 just for parts/tools compatibility with Kim’s 700 to simplify, but they were just too small for me. He mentioned a lowered 1200 for Kim and she shared how much she’d liked sitting on the lowered 1200 Adventure at the Fairbanks dealer. They had no lowered 1200’s at the shop so we were safe.
Conversation continued on various subjects until Andrew remembered he had bought a 1200GS from a Swiss guy who’d ridden some of the US on it and then sold it to them before flying back. We wandered down to the basement to look at it and it was well set up with Jesse cases, Ohlins suspension, PIAA lights, windshield, etc. Andrew returned with a custom lowered seat from one of the mechanic’s bikes so that Kim could sit on it and see how it felt. It felt good indeed, she said. The price was decent for a bike with the mileage and farkles but it needed a service and set of tires. Andrew said they’d get it cleaned up, tires put on and as much service as they could do by the next morning so that she could test ride it.
We headed out to find a place for the night, landing in a run down motel not too far from the dealer, replete with drunk, fighting folks in the parking lot. A meal of Thai food and avoiding the drunk guy who cursed us and wanted to fight ended our fun for the evening as we fell asleep in the tiny room.
The next day we’d planned to ride down to the Kenai peninsula, but Kim wanted to test ride the 1200 and see how she liked it. She’d ridden my older R1100GS and enjoyed the feel but as she was just getting her feet wet riding again, I felt it would be too heavy for her and we’d gone the single cylinder F650GS route instead.
The 1200 was washed and sporting new tires when we pulled up and it wasn’t long before we were on the road. Kim was immediately comfortable on the bike and when we found a big parking lot, she had a chance to handle it standing, sitting and idling along in low gear. She said it was far easier to ride and handle than the 700 and there was no question she wanted the bike. They made us a great deal on the bike, our new riding gear, the 700 repairs and trade value. The 1200 was serviced, brakes flushed, all fluids changed, new brake shoes, filters, yada yada and by 5 pm we were transferring her gear into the new cases and I was wiring up the accessory ports and such. We found some extra stickers from previous acquisitions on the road and Kim personalized the cases a bit - sad that her old sticker collection went away with the 700.
She loves the bike and says it feels far more solid and comfortable, is easier to turn, park and handle overall. Sooooooo, the last thing I expected on this trip would be to return from Alaska with The Iron Butterfly on a 1200. She’s done exceptionally well on the 700 and I expect will do as well, if not better, on the 1200. The route from Alaska back to Texas to get it registered should be a decent test of reliability and being on the same bikes as we hit regions south will simplify some tools and parts for sure.
From the dealership we found a UPS store to ship the old boots and jacket back, then looked for another motel and finally spotted one that claimed $69 a night. When Kim called, the desk girl confirmed both the price and availability. We found the old looking motel and went in for the room. I confirmed with the desk girl that we had called and she said she had the room ready and just needed payment. I gave her my card and she handed me the receipt to sign, when I noticed she had charged me $99 for the room. I corrected her and she said the rate was only $69 when booked online and Kim reminded her that she had said they would honor the rate by phone. The girl said that she’d never said that, and that the $99 was non-refundable. Things escalated quickly and she refused to do anything, calling her manager and lying clearly over the phone to him. It got ugly fast and I called the credit card company from the lobby, who confirmed that the motel had not only charged us $99 but had charged it 3 times! I’m a nice, calm guy, but this was such obvious thievery I lost it and began yelling. It was the craziest thing I’ve been involved in in a long time, the girl lying about all of it, the manager threatening to call the police on us and swearing they would never give us money back. It was insane. I reported them as fraudulent to the credit card company while they listened, which seemed to get the manager’s attention. He then agreed to refund our money but by the time we got out of there you could have fried eggs on my forehead.
It was late and we were tired so we traveled a few blocks back to the dump we'd stayed in the night before. Anchorage had not made a good impression… except for the BMW dealer.