Now I’m not a firefighter, despite what my dreamy calendar may have had you to believe, but if I was, I would choose to work in the British Columbia Forestry Division, if there is such thing, because fighting fires in this environment, is a hero’s job.
Yes, for the second cross country vacation in a row, I slept under the possible outside threat of being evacuated due to a forest fire.
In fact, this wasn’t even known to me until this morning, when I got ready to leave, and was told that perhaps the road was still closed Northbound.
STILL?
Well, as it turns out, they got a part of it under control, and opened up Rte 97 again. SO I skipped breakfast to get out of Dodge before they reconsidered.
Now THIS was a ride today, and for the second day in a row, I left Uncle Igor all charged up and in my front jacket pocket, not to be used. I am really trying to ride this entire leg of the journey with only my thoughts to distract me.
The Levi’s I am wearing however are being way overused and are quite due to be thrown out.
And no, a wash will not help, and not for the gross reason that they are disgustingly dirty either. People attacked by Grizzly’s have fewer holes in their clothes than I. Certain umm, spots are being revealed, front and back (sorry for the visual), but thankfully they are constantly concealed under my rain gear. But that last shift in my seat after hitting that last pothole (chasm), caused a rip in my back pocket area so vast, that I by the time I landed back on the seat, my left ass cheek was considerably cooler than my right.
I’m gonna toss them at my next stop here in Watson Lake, Yukon Territory.
The Yukon, man that even SOUNDS North.
Yes, I do believe The Yukon sounds a perfect place to lie to rest an old Button Down friend.
This leg of the journey is said to be the nicest, scenic part of the highway, and I’m riding it in the cold, damp rain. Thankfully I have ridden the Rocky Mountains in Colorado in near perfect weather and conditions, so even though I wish that was happening now, I just climbed these with the visions I already have filled in my memory.
And I’m glad I had those visions, as today the only thing I could see is the rear bumper of the RV in front of me, and about3 feet to all sides due to the amount of dense fog laying about in that elevation.
The Rockies are rugged, with hairpin curves coated with this year’s winter gravel, grades approaching 8% in some areas, both climbing AND descending from the mountains.
Kai is acting a bit indigested and I fear she got herself some bad gas. She shut down entirely on me twice when I pulled over for some pics, and when I came down out of the Rockies to my first gas stop, she was really limping into the pumps. Coughing and sputtering and threatening a strike.
Oh well, the pumps are at a campground, and will be a perfect place to hunker down for a nite or lifetime if she doesn’t wanna go no further.
I top her off with some fuel, and start her back up again. Running fine again. At this point I can only surmise she either got bad fuel (I always run Premium in her, and haven’t seen above 87 Octane in days), or she hated the Rockies Elevation. Either the case, she was purring now, so I shut her down content, walk in and pay for my fuel and celebrate this little moment by grabbing a sticky bun.
Testa River Campground has THE best sticky buns ever, and I live in Amish Country, so that’s saying something. As I get cinnamony icing all over my fingeys, I strike up a conversation with Kevin (a doctor in his 50’s or so), his Mom, and his dog Thora.
Well, Thora just licked my cinnamony sticky fingers, but that IS a conversation in dog language.
Kevin is picking up and moving from Michigan to Anchorage and his Mom is coming along for a ride. Turns out that they were the victims of the mountain fire previously mentioned, as the road was closed when they came through, and not able to find a hotel for the night, they all hunkered down in his stuffed Land Cruiser in a Fort Nelson parking lot.
We share some ALCAN HWY stories thus far, and he offers to keep an eye on me if I should indeed run out of fuel like I tried to yesterday. It seems to be true that the people you meet at Mile 0 ya might as well get to know, because Kevin and Co ran into me 2 more times before I landed here in the Yukon, almost pants less.
10 miles out of Testa, I run into my first construction site, and let me tell ya, THAT alone almost made me wanna turn around. 2-3 miles of nothing but MUD to wade through. Mud mixed with some loose gravel, so yeah, really sketchy there, even at 10mph.
You should see us now. I had to creep up on the shower tonight.
Doesn’t help that the bike parked next to mine tonight must’ve found a car wash down the road. Kai looks like his bike took a shit.
The Highway now enters Stone Mountain Provincial Park. This area is known for Stone Sheep to be abundant near the edge of the road as they come down off the mountain to lick minerals from the surface of the road. They aren’t likely to be startled by the presence of vehicles, but I’d be damned if I could get one to hold still long enough for me to grab my Nikon CoolPix. They are some Mountain Climbing Muthafuckas!!
The park dumps you into Summit Lake, and MAN what color on this lake. Luckily, Summit Lake is NOT a Mountain Climbing Muthafucka and it stood still long enough for me to snap off several pics.
The sun came out and the clouds parted when I came off the mountain, and the views are AMAZING. I wish Jim Croce was still alive because he could put into words what I am seeing and feeling.
Maybe I can get Gordon Lightfoot on the job.
He’s still alive.
AND Canadian!
Stopped for gas at Toad River, talked to Kevin again, let Thora lick some bugs of my hand, and off again I go enjoying a near perfect 30 miles, THEN the skies just opened up.
Muncho Lake North Canadian Lodge appears on my left and I roll up to the pumps again. I don’t really need fuel, but it’s really pouring and I have to pee, so I decide I might as well do both AND get out of the quickly passing storm.
This is where the funniest thing that has EVER happened to me occurred, and I have been thinking of a way to type it out for the last 5 hours. It’s not going to resonate here, but I’ll give it a go.
Again, roll up to the pumps, and on the opposite side, facing the opposite way, is a soaked BMW Motobike with rider standing astride. I shut it down, and laugh and say
“Well, at least my bike is finally getting a wash”
He RUNS over, looks at my tag, and starts clapping feverishly and, still donning his full face, starts talking, very quickly, and VERY German.
NOT A WORD OF ENGLISH, he goes on and ON, and ON about all sorts of things I suppose. Points at the sky, his bike, MY front FENDER, his bike again, hands going every which way, THEN, grabs his map, points at our current route, more feverishly talking, then points to the Cassiar Highway, with nien nien nien, then BACK to the sky and finally back to my front fender, his gas tank and the with that, he jumps on his bike, fires it up and was gone.
I swear I sat there absolutely dumbfounded, having hearty belly laughs for a full 10 mins after he left.
My German teacher kindly asked me to not re-up for his class my junior year, as I didn’t take it seriously and seemed to only be there to nap and eat the German Clubs Gummi Bears fundraiser packets.
I wish I hated candy when I was a kid, because I would’ve LOVED to know what that guy was carrying on about.
Saw my second black bear after that, slowed the bike, did a uturn to get to see him closer. As he walked along, I grabbed my Nikon and before I ever got it turned on; a tractor trailer FLEW by and scared that little sucker back into the woods.
Oh well, actually saw one this time, and I’m getting ever so closer to grabbing a mugshot of one.
That was easily the most exciting thing I’ve done in some time.
If you don’t count that time I stayed up all night, watching USA’s Up All Night with Gilbert Gottfried, drinking entirely too much Crystal Pepsi.
Lots of loose rock and falling stones during this course, and NO barriers put up to stop them. In Pa, we have concrete barriers up along those rockslide areas, trying to contain the boulders from falling from the sky and crushing a Hyundai, but no, not here in British Columbia. They just put up a sign and let ya fend for yourself.
Rockslide Area.
Deal with it the sign should say.
Whip past Liard Hot Springs, deciding at the last moment not to partake, due to extreme laziness, as I have entirely too many articles of clothing on to get undressed, grab a pair of shorts from my well strapped down tour pack, climb in a pool for a half hour, climb out and reverse the process.
Saw an abundant of wildlife in the next 50 miles or so. 2 more black bears, 1 brown bear, a fox, and several Buffalo.
Good stuff!!
I grab my last fill up at Contact Creek, and run into 2 real bikers (mountain bikes), on their way from Vancouver to South America. They have been on the road for 2 years now.
The two Vancouverites, heading to South America, and I, heading to Alaska, sit around in this gift shop with the Canadian owner, talking while drinking Coca Cola, while Rachel Ray cooks something up on the cable box.
These moments will stick like Velcro on my brain.
40 more miles finds me landing in Watson Lake, Yukon Territory’s. I know that my lodge tonight has no dining so I wander about in the gas station food aisles and come up with some delicious chicken tenders and some pastries for dessert and breakfast.
I have found that when you find your hotel after a day’s ride, it’s much easier to gas up then. First of all, it’s great to get info on where to eat from the gas jockeys, as the hotels are sometimes tied in with a certain eatery in an “I scratch your back you scratch mine deal” and it might not be the best place in town. Secondly, if there IS nothing really in town, such as Watson Lake, you can usually dig up some treats in the snack aisle. And lastly, I love just getting up in the morning with no chores to do. While everyone else is stacked at the pumps, I just blast.
Poultry and pastry in hand, I guide Kai into the parking lot of The Airforce Lodge, www.airforcelodge.com (more on this place tomorrow) and settle in for the night under a slight cool breeze through my room’s window.
This trip is getting better by the day, and can you believe I’ve been on the road a week today?
Maybe I can get 8 days out of those Levi’s 550’s?
Peace Grease and Beats.
