This is from memory and apparently faulty from the get go as I'm not really clear what year this was. I'm going to guess 97', it was springtime, early April. We'd had a low snow winter and were experiencing extremely warm temps that had the normally great spring trails basically gone so the plan was to go north searching for the last riding of winter. Leaving Fairbanks you drive Northeast on the Elliott Hwy. (it becomes gravel at 34 ml.) until Livengood (a semi-ghost town and now know as the place where the pipeline was shot) at ml. 78 and then go North on the Dalton Hwy. usually referred to as the 'haul road' by Alaskans which runs almost due North all the way to Prudhoe Bay. For a gravel road it's not to bad but I wouldn't want to drive it in summer when the dust would be bad from the trucks and other traffic, plus most gravel roads up here are much smoother when frozen and snowpacked.

As I went further north the road got less muddy and more frozen. Crossing the Yukon River was a treat, it was the first time I'd driven up this way and trails running up and downstream looked promising for future explorations. The country opens more and more as you approach the Brooks Range with a few scenic spots but to my dismay the snow conditions weren't getting much better. I spent the night at the only campground I passed the whole drive which was on the Arctic Circle and managed by BLM. It was closed but I found a spot I could get into between the snowdrifts and mud puddles to pitch the tent. Drove into the range the next day and was knocked over by the beauty of the country. The road was pretty good with traffic low, you could drive 50-60 mph but had to keep on your toes as once in a while there were bad washouts and potholes that could eat a tire at least. Pulled into Coldfoot (not much more than a gas station and cafe) for breakfast and had my first plan dashed. The famous ( to some Alaskans) Chandalar Lake Trail was already too punchy to travel. So onward I went and started to understand why friends who worked here had raved about this area during the building of the pipeline. Wonderful, majestic, wild, beautiful, it is great country but not the place to be unprepared. It seemed strange that there was no place to pull off the road, maybe in summer you could find some spots but then there was only a couple of places in 300-400 miles to get off the road and camp. I just kept driving and soon was over the impressive Atigun Pass complete with sheep within spitting distance at the summit and dropped down onto the North Slope. The Slope is a arctic desert and unique country, I got familiar with it during the building of the pipeline and had worked the slope from just north of the Brooks Range to Prudoe Bay. Now the hope was to ride some river overflow on the Sagavanirktok River (know as the 'Sag' for obvious reasons) but there was too much snow on top of the ice. Thank goodness for the long spring days as I turned around and drove back to a spot I'd seen by the Middle Fork of the Dietrich River about 20 miles south of Atigun Pass. There you could actually pull over off the road a little ways and get on the pipeline pad where the pipe was buried. Nice place to camp and after a long day of driving I set camp took a walk to loosen stiff muscles, ate and was soon in the sack.

Got up the next day and played on the river overflow with not a little trepidation. Some rivers can have bad ice for various reasons and not being familiar with this one my heart was in my throat a few times.

Fun, scary riding on the Middle Fork of the Dietrich River with open water and water on top of ice.

Have to admit to getting a kick out of these sorts of situations, usually. Rode right up to a fountain produced by ice-water pressure, these are almost common during spring on bigger rivers and this one was a foot or two high probably the biggest I've ever seen. After a hour of so of this I crossed the road to a creek (Nutirwik Creek, named after an Indian guide back in the 30's) coming out a small mountain valley.

How could I not pack up trailer and explore Nutirwik Creek further with conditions like this?

Hmmm, rode up a mile or two and the ice conditions were pretty good so decided to go back, pack up the Bob and see if following the creek would lead to a couple of days worth of springtime fun. I left a note on my truck describing my destination and probably return date just in case as nobody had any idea where the hell I was. Can't really recall the exact temps but it must have been in the 20's F during the day and single digits F to low teens F at night, after a long cold winter it felt downright balmy.

The landscape was beautiful, the ice and creekbottom were 150 to 400 feet wide, steepsided with some shear rock faces in places. The ice was a joy to ride even if I did have to go side to side most of the way to find the navigable route due to areas of crusty snow. In a few spots there was a couple of inches of water flowing over the ice, here I rode right up the water (got a nice video of this) which was fun in part as the surface was very hard with gravel imbedded so traction was good.

It took me awhile to decide to cross all this open water on top of the ice but it was great riding.

Heading upstream as creek narrows.

This was the first real use of my Bob and it's handling was impressive to the point of almost forgetting it's presence. Slowly made my way upcreek stopping often for pictures and unhooking the trailer at a couple of spots with interesting ice formations made for a bike to play on. About 5-6 miles as the raven flies ( or 7-10 miles with all the curves, twists and turns) the creek narrowed at the base of a spectacular little mountain and turned south into a smaller more rugged valley. Across from the mountain was the first somewhat level area and it looked promising for a place to camp. Parked on the creek and climbed a short cutbank to find a rough camp. Post frame with upper platform, cache, couple of pots, and the answer to what this was, a torn wetsuit. Miners of course, this whole country was scoured by seekers of gold and this looked a couple of years old.

Thanks to all seekers of gold, look close to see tent, smoke from campfire and knee braces and other items airing-drying out.

It looked like snow so I pitched the tent inside the post frame as there was some sort of platform overhead. After making camp and putting a big pot I found and packed with snow on a fire I took a look around. Walked upriver to the bend to see how the riding conditions were, just below camp upon returning I broke thru some rotten ice and went in up to a knee. Good timing as it was right back to camp, drying out, dinner and a good nights sleep.

Awoke to clear blue skies and the promise of a great day for exploring. Built up the fire and cooked a hearty breakfast before setting out to ride upcreek. It was rough going and I only made it a couple of miles before parking the bike and hiking for another couple of miles.

This short trip upcreek couldn't have been more beautiful and made for challenging riding while it lasted.

The valley got narrow quickly as it climbed into the mountains and ice conditions rapidly went to hell. Once again I was thankful for the long spring days as I had enough time to head back to camp, eat lunch and head up the mountainside behind camp. It was very steep and slow going but every foot climbed was rewarded with the expanding view. There was a sharp ridge above I set my sights on with some interesting rock formations.

Could you pass up a chance to hike up to rock formations like this?

Eventually broke out of the treeline into a stiff wind. There was a spot here that I had to climb over a short scree covered slope with steep drop-offs on both sides. It was a little hairy and coming down I bushwhacked a bit to avoid it. Wow was it every blowing as I climbed higher up, so much that taking pictures and trying to stand still was an effort. Some strange rock pillars about 15 to 25 foot high were strung out along the lower part of the ridge and here I could start to see the creek and the area around my camp.

Just to the left of pillar is area where camp was.

Close to the top there was a spot where I could see the entire creek except for the last bit at the head where it disappeared into the mountains. Had to sit there for awhile and just take it in, it was one of those moments that outdoor enthusiasts relish, I'll let a picture do the talking.

Extreme middle right is a almost horizontal small white streak which is the Middle Fork of the Dietrich River and the starting point of this ride. On left side is the upper section of creek I'd ridden and hiked earlier that day. Not a bad spot for lunch and definitely worth the hike.

I was pretty pooped by the time I got to the bigger rock formation I'd set as my goal and after taking some pictures, wolfing down a bite and resting I headed down. Back at camp after building a fire I filled the big pot with snow put it on the fire (the miners had also left a nice grill) and went out to the cutbank to sit looking over the creek and polish off the wine. There was a small plate sized spot where water had been percolating out of the ice just below the cutbank and a plywood sized piece of ice suddenly popped up there and a low gusher of water rushed out rapidly forming a small wave and spreading out 60-80 foot wide over the ice as it hurried downstream. Very cool to catch it happening but also somewhat disconcerting to see my avenue of departure disappearing underwater. Not much I could do about it so went back to camp got buck ass naked and took a bath with the pot of snowmelt water. Oh did that ever feel good. Dinner and into the fartsack for an early departure.

The next morning the water from the wave was just a inch or two deep and 10-20 foot wide with the nights colder temps and even more to the fact that the initial pressure of all the water backed up under the ice was greatly diminished. Even with the extra water the ride out was shorter than the ride up with less exploring and better ice conditions due to the colder morning temperatures.

What a treat to spend a couple of nights in such a beautiful place but it was also nice to get back to my truck and the sense of security our modern tools can bring. This trip rates towards the top of my list of outdoor adventures. Now there was just a long uneventful drive home.

A few years later I was in the local BLM offices visiting with one of the guys that cover the White Mountains National Recreational Area talking winter biking and mentioned this trip. When I described the mining camp he said that sounds like a place they took a chopper in last year and cleaned up. He thought I was mistaken as to location because he couldn't picture anyone riding a bike into there, but comparing notes and looking at the map we quickly figured out it was the same place. Someday a trip back up that way is in order, after all I never did get to go on my originally planned ride.