CONQUERING THE ROAD OF BONES

"NOT BUILT FOR THIS KIND OF ADVENTURE"

- Charlie Weisel

It was almost 1:00 a.m., dark, dusty, cold, and quiet, when Anton and I made the final transition from dirt to pavement. Eyes blurry and teeth chattering, we exchanged tired glances of acknowledgment that we had officially conquered the 1,217 miles that is the Road of Bones. As the dust settled, the gravity of what we’d accomplished began to set in, but that’s not where this story began. To fully understand and appreciate accomplishment, we had to reflect on the previous seven days.

At the early hour of 4:30 a.m., the sun was already well into the sky in this northern region of Russia; the sky only darkens for a couple of hours during the summer months. We loaded our motorcycles to catch the 6:00 a.m. ferry out of Yakutsk. There are no roads to this nearArctic city; a ferry ride across the Lena River is the only real option. The hour-long boat ride would take us to the town of Nizhnii Bestyakh and the starting point of the Road of Bones. And after a quick fuel top-off, we headed into the unknown.

Neither of us had done much research, so there were many questions we’d soon find the answers to. The only thing we investigated extensively was distances between fuel stops; the average of which was about 150 miles, with 250 miles as the longest stretch. Outside of these assumptions, we had nothing but the warnings of others to guess about what the road had in store for us. We’d been told repeatedly that the likelihood of making it to Magadan, the final destination, was slim to none.