I started in Minnesota. I rode west, eventually across the highline, Highway 2 across Montana. Then over the Going-to-the-Sun Highway through Glacier and turned north and rode through Banff and Jasper. I rode through rain between Banff and Jasper and the snowline was just a couple hundred feet above the road.
It took a few days to ride north through Alberta and British Columbia. I hardly saw any other motorcycles. I camped in gravel pits and sometimes pushed the bike into the forest by the highway and pitched my tent.
Finally I made it to Tok and stayed in a campground there. I rode down to Anchorage and then down the Kenai Peninsula.
I rode back up to Anchorage and stayed there and then up to Fairbanks. The haul road wasn't open then, so I didn't think about that. I'd like to see the Brooks Range, but beyond that, miles of flat tundra and mud and bugs and biting flies doesn't interest me.
After Fairbanks, I rode back down to Tok and camped again.
After Tok Junction, I rode down to Haines and got on a ferry on the Alaska Marine Highway.
Another ferry was leaving Haines behind the ferry I was on.
I rode on the ferry for three nights camping on my thermarest under the stars on the deck up on the bow. No rain. It was an incredible experience to be down at sea level while catching a glimpse of 16,000 foot mountains from time to time.
I got off at Prince Rupert and rode over the Rockies again in the early morning fog and rain.
Then I turned south and rode through eastern Washington and Oregon. I camped in a field in eastern Oregon.
I rode over Lolo Pass on the way southeast.
I made my way east and passed through Yellowstone National Park. After that I went over Beartooth Pass.
...and then I made my way back to southern Minnesota.
For me, really, riding to Alaska is really the experience of British Columbia. It's big. Really big. It went on forever. Here's the Yukon River and other places on the Alaska Highway.