In the end, the three self-described ''old guys'' arrived in Fairbanks, Alaska, on Wednesday not by snowmobile, but by a truck that toted them the last 60 miles of their 38-day adventure.

Plagued by mechanical problems on the final two days of a journey that took them from Grand Rapids, Minn., to within a (long) stone's throw of Fairbanks, Paul Dick, 72, Rex Hibbert, 70, and Rob Hallstrom, 65, say they achieved what they set out to do more than two years ago.

"Not riding into Fairbanks on our snowmobiles was a disappointment, but our goal was to ride from Grand Rapids to Alaska, and we did that,'' Hallstrom said Thursday from Fairbanks. "We're tired and our machinery is worn out, but we did it.''

All three men — each is an experienced long-distance snowmobile traveler and racer — are in good shape physically, Hallstrom said, though Hibbert, of Soda Springs, Idaho, dropped 30 pounds, while Hallstrom of Park Rapids, Minn., lost 20 and Dick of Grand Rapids, shed 10.

Other snowmobile adventurers have attempted similar long-distance journeys, but none involved breaking the epic distances of trails the three old guys did.

Only the first 1,000 miles of the approximately 5,000 miles the men traveled were on established routes. The trio's remaining Arctic and sub-Arctic pathways were mapped in advance using Google Earth and historical accounts of First Nation travels by dog sled and other means.

Riding Arctic Cat Norseman 8000X snowmobiles, Hallstrom said, the three punished their machines daily. Twice they suffered fires — though neither was serious — and in Old Crow, Yukon, they replaced clutches on two of the machines.

Otherwise, Hallstrom said, the snowmobiles were solid until Tuesday, when the three men neared the small settlement of Circle, Alaska, and Hallstrom's sled sputtered.

That problem was fixed in Circle, but when the trio attempted to leave Wednesday morning, Hallstrom's machine wouldn't fire. Abandoning that sled, the three men headed for Fairbanks about 160 miles away.

"We were riding double-up on one snowmobile and pulling all three of our (cargo) sleds when Rex's machine locked up,'' Hallstrom said.

That prompted a decision to call for a truck to carry the trio and their gear the final hour or so into Fairbanks.

Here are Hallstrom's reflections on the journey:

The toughest part? "I don't know that there was any one thing that was tougher than the rest. Every turn on the trail revealed a unique challenge. For adventure junkies, which we are, it was all cool.''

Any serious misjudgments? "We have a lot of determination and we don't give up easily. We had a lot of lucky breaks. Most fortunate was the help we received from the First Nation (Native Canadian) people. They were great.''

Any misgivings about riding Minnesota-made Arctic Cats? "We see these Arctic Cat Norseman 8000X's as the F-150s of snowmobiles. They're pretty good for everything. We've ridden them on rocks, gravel, you name it. If we had to do it again, we'd ride them again.''

How challenging was the trip physically? "We chuckle at some Facebook commenters who say, 'I wish I was with you.' I'm not sure that's true. Like any good adventure, there was a lot of pain that went with this trip.''

What did your snowmobile's odometers read in the end? "They aren't correct because we geared our sleds down before we left because of the heavy loads we pulled and the trails we had to break.''

How often did you get your sleds stuck and have to dig them out? "Daily. But (before this trip) we'd already done everything you could imagine doing with a snowmobile. Stuck in deep snow. Stuck in slush. You dig them out, tip them on their side, fill in underneath them with snow, then tip them the other way. We had shovels. We had a come-along. It's a lot of work.''

Some reports said more than 30,000 people followed you on Facebook. Is that how First Nation villagers were aware of your impending arrivals? "I don't think so. People in big cities follow Facebook. But the villagers had traveled some of these routes and knew people at the next stop. They had their own way of communicating.''

You often stayed in unlocked cabins along the way. How important were these wilderness accommodations? "Very important. They are built as survival cabins open to the public. The majority are owned by somebody, but they're left open. It's the way of the north. A lot of times when we were in a village someone would look at our GPS and they'd show us where the cabins were.''

Any plans for another adventure? "Right now we don't have any plans. But we're not the kind of guys who can go home and just sit.''