White Horse to Dawson City

It was laundry time and most of our gear needed drying so we stayed in a motel - The Yukon Inn. The exterior said old, but the interior was newly renovated including new RFID room keys (not affected by cell phone). Our room quickly filled with drying gear and Jeff hung extra lines to hang wet stuff. My down sleeping bag is supposed to be hydrophobic but that didn't stop it from smelling a bit funky after being damp for 3 days. Hope the smell goes away.

Hope nobody steals stuff from the bikes

Lizzy watching over stuff drying in the room

The desk clerk was a well made up native girl who had been partying too much over the last few days and was experiencing memory gaps. I got my room quote and put down the card, only to find there were several extras/gotchas i.e. extra person costs, room is not close to parking - it's second floor, oh, there is no elevator, oh, it's at the very end of the hall. I know we would have looked elsewhere had these facts been available at the start so perhaps her scatter brained approach was designed to benefit the house. At lest she let us park the bikes where the desk clerk and cameras could see them. There were several shady looking characters in the parking lot even though this place had a wide range of clientele.

We asked for dinner options and were pointed to go right up the street when in fact, our phones circled us back past the building and the best direction would have been go left.  KFC, A&W were not on our agenda so we ended up at Boston Pizza. What a mistake. The server could not understand us and mixed up the orders. We ordered the large beer and got the small pints. We ordered one brand and got the other. Clearly this server did not want to be here and wasn't afraid of sending that message to her customers. And finally, it seems that transportation costs significantly increase the cost of products in this city. Our bill was a surprise. Needless to say, the tip reflected our disappointment. This was not the best introduction to White Horse. Little did we know that a few blocks over, the old downtown had plenty of options that would have made us happy over the top.

Laundry was done early before the partiers got up. There was a lot of party in most of the rooms the night before. The smell of metabolizing alcohol permeated the halls.  Packing took some time but our bikes and license plates garnered interest from a Japanese tourist and his Canadian/Japanese guide. We answered their questions which were translated by the guide. The respect and protocol between the two was interesting to watch. Then, a German tourist and daughter, who were here for her birthday asked about the BMW bikes. They had flown from Germany to Alaska and White Horse. Today, they were taking a plane to a helicopter, which would take them to a glacier to hike on. A bit of cash being spent on that celebration but we had a few laughs with Jeff.

On the road with a pizzling rain that started to go away as we got further north. It did however get colder so we kept the fleece and rain jackets just to keep warm.

We stop at a historic site of the Montaque log road house that serviced miners and trappers at the turn of the century. This area must have been difficult with the short summers, cold winters and bugs, Bugs, BUGS. 

The bugs are bugging Cipi

Jeff and Cipi have more photos of this location

A bit further on, we stopped at the Five Fingers Rapids. This is a historic spot since the rapids prevented easy boat traffic until some brave soul executed a series of underwater explosion that destroyed the rock structure blocking the navigation channel. The location was popular with tourists. Whenever we thought - “what a remote location - we’re in the wilderness”, along came a bus or rental camper with tourists, many German or Northern European. A couple of red bulls and Snus to keep us alert and off we go.

Three Amigos at Five Fingers Rapids

The fat pig with a full load

Five Fingers in the distance. Thus area used to be ocean bed until the continents started colliding (a few years ago)

Road is fun to ride

Closeup of the rapids

Panorama of the view

Stewart Crossing - Cipi got what he was asking for: Kilometers of dirt road. On Google Maps, the section was paved but for this trip, I guess the road needed repair and didn't have budget for the full chip cover, so we had new gravel for a long section. We were following a number of vehicles which meant driving in constant thick dust clouds. The solution was pass, but speed was greeted with a wobble and wandering bike track. For Cipi, it was easy - I'm outta hear. Hit the throttle and he was gone. Jeff and I needed to ride back a bit to get comfortable and then we made our moves to pass the lead car. Again - what a way to learn - just in time and school of hard knocks rolled into one. We survived the test, which prepared us a bit more for the Dempster.


We stop just before Dawson for a break at a remote spot, Gravel Lake, and instantly, just as nature calls, the parking lot is filled with vehicles - how does that happen?? We meet a traveller from Texas who is roaming all over in his “mobile home” - a Saturn sedan with the rear seats removed and replaced with a bed. He is literally living from his car. He loves meeting people on his trip and is on his way to Brampton (yes - in Ontario), to stay with a family that invited him to visit and stay “any time”. The three amigos look at each other and silently promise to not invite him to visit us - ever.  

Gravel Lake. Had a great info sign on the history of the Jack Pine. Trees are definelty smaller here due to the growing season. Jack Pines need a fire to activate their seeds, so forest fires are part of the circle of life up here.

Gravel Lake pano

Cipi was itching to camp again, so we found a campground just outside of Dawson City, near their airport. We saw a 737 aircraft but later discover that the runway is made of gravel since pavement heaves too much with the permafrost. The 737 needs a gravel operations modification to operate on this runway but is kept busy shuttling tourists from Fairbanks for Holland America tour lines. That explains all the europeans wandering around Dawson City. 

In front of the Grocery store

We do a quick tour of town, buy food and water from the grocery store. There is no liquor store but all hotels offer off site sales at near beer store prices. Dinner is cooked over a camp fire. Wood is free with the $12 camp fee but Jeff borrows an axe to chop wood. It turns out the axe lender is a player in a reality show about gold mining which is filmed near Dawson city. These trips never fail to deliver a source of interesting people to meet. 

Chillin' in camp

The chop meister ...

Inspecting the sausage

While this photo may seem rude, the fire cooked sausages and foil wrapped baked potatoes, baked in the wood coals tasted amazing. We head to bed without a shower since Yukon campgrounds do not offer showers. This would become mildly interesting as we head further north. Tomorrow we hit the dempster and it's hard to get to sleep thinking about that. 

White Horse

Shortly after we departed from the camp, the road went up a mountain range and the skies clears, delivering a set of views that forced us to stop and take pics. 

Clouds over the river

Down the road panorama

The view from the other side of the river

Real life was better than the photo facimile

We need fuel - first fuel is found at Dease Lake. KM = 18,554. This town is not that far from Iskut but what a difference. It has a large health centre and the gas station has a grocery store that provides a surprisingly large source of everything - including Gold Bond, which Jeff needs (but forgot to pack) to keep the boys happy on long rides. We meet a Native woman and her daughter when the daughter comments on our Ontario plates, saying that she went to school at McMaster in Hamilton. 

We are getting very close to Yukon but first - off road practice. One kind but perhaps mis-educated individual volunteered that the ride to Yukon along 37 can be done on any bike, including crotch rockets. Nay my friend - you were mistaken. 

We crossed several gravel road sections that would be considered “doable” because they were in good shape. Somewhere on the road, we approach a construction zone with a sign that warned of “Loose Gravel” for 1.5 km. The safety operator asks us to stop and wait for a pilot car. That is code for a long section of road in such bad shape that vehicles cannot drive unescorted. We are overjoyed by the fact that there is a large gavel carrier in front of us. Just the device to spit gravel up from the road as well as loose stones dripping from it’s belly door. The pilot car is in place and we start moving. At the first bend, there is a truck pull over zone and the gravel truck graciously stops there to let us pass. The pilot truck stops and the driver comes out to say - no, no, the gravel truck needs to stay in front so that it compresses the gravel - there are 6 inches of loose, wet gravel on the road and the motorcycles won’t be able to drive through that. Oh, this is going to be fun - I have read horror stories of bikes crashing in that kind of condition. Jeff and I are going for trial by fire. 

I think they forgot to update the sign - it’s more like 5km of loose gravel. There was a bit of wobbling - seemed worse at the time, but then we cleared the bad stuff only to endure the blinding cloud of dust that the gravel carrier spread into the air, courtesy of the fresh gravel. The dust is so thick you can’t see, so passing on the now two lane road is not safe.

The trip took us through Jade City which is a town populated by a few families working the large jade deposits in the area. Their efforts seem so interesting that a reality TV show was spawned to document the excitement. Their web site talks about the area containing 90% or the world’s jade, which I took with a grain of salt since China cherish’s jade more than any other culture and in China, factories make all kinds of jewelry and ornate carvings from the stone. I am told that a jade bracelet is the equivalent to a western wedding ring. It comes as no surprise that their enterprise is supported by an investor group in China, who no doubt have an exclusive contract for the best specimens found. The jade stones look like big rock turds and only show their special colour when cut open. Jade city has no artisans so their “art” consists of artifacts can be cut with a saw and polished. Chinese art is … a work of art as seen below:

We're at Jade City

Jade City carving of a pig

Jade City Bangles

Jade City dice

Jade carving from China where a millenia of artists perfected their craft

Work of Art from China

We met a husband/wife team traveling on Gold Wings. They were returning from a trip to Alaska
where amongst other things, scattered some ashes from a fellow adventurer who had succumbed to cancer earlier in the year and could not make the trip as planned. We are reminded constantly that life is short and must be lived to the fullest at all times and never squandered.

 She had her own bike - that's brave because of her diminutive size, handling that beast is a real challenge. They talked of the gravel sections and the big boys getting squirrely on them, but their biggest complaint was the frost heaves that would launch the big Wings almost airborne - certainly cured them of the long distance slumbers.

My hat's off to both of them for their brand of Adventure riding.

When we left Dease Lake, a road side sign warned of a large forest fire at the Yukon border and to expect delays. Now, as we approached the border, the smell of fire was in the air and we passed acres of burnt trees, but the expected wall of smoke was no where to be seen. I has been raining for days, so perhaps that has helped to minimize the spread of the fire. So, we get to Yukon with no fire.

BC/Yukon Border

At the end of 37, Cipi was signalling “bingo” fuel. We find gas on the Alaska highway (AKA Highway 1 and AlCan Highway) at Nugget City Service Center and sit down to beat the rain and grab a bite … of bison burger. Jeff and I had a “good” burger but Cipi’s was still frozen in the middle. We already experienced the sarcastic hospitality of the owner and were too tired to enter into a fray so we didn’t say much. I would advise the proprietor - you may have a remote location where people stop because they need to but there is no excuse for treating them poorly. If you don’ like your work, or don’t like people, become a lumberjack.

We meet a bus load of Mennonites in a Mercedes Spinter van, pulling a trailer. Father, mother, brothers, sisters, cousins and second cousins pile from the van to stretch their legs and grab a snack. One of the young men admires the bikes and after we share our destinations, he shares that they too have travelled all over Yukon and NWT over the last few months and were heading home. Their sense of adventure is certainly to be admired. If I traveled that long, in a small space with that many siblings, there would have been blood on the floor.

It's raining again - heavily. We motor on the winding roads. After so long in the saddle, distances become muddled. Teslin approaches in the distance, around a corner and down a hill and we see the seven segment monster. It's a 7 segment bridge with a grated steel deck. Signs warn motorcyclists that things could get wobbly. They don't advise the un-educated that knobbies only amplify the problem. Jeff and I say a few silent prayers (Jeff found religion on several segments of this trip) and after a few nerve wracking minutes, survive the encounter. Many motorcycle blogs take time to share the anxiety that this structure produces.  Even Cipi confides at the Yukon Motel gas station that the bridge "was not good!"

The seven segment bridge at Teslin

The view of the grated metal deck that incites fear in most motorcycle riders

Gas Station in the lee of the bridge

This was an interesting extended stop due to rain.

I noticed the Spot tracker ran out of battery, it turns out, on 37. I have spares and replace them but for some reason can't keep the tracker going. It's only later on the trip, after Inuvik, that I realize you must hit the tracking button to activate the constant tracking. Bummer and shame on me - missed some good tracks.

We meet a rider on a Victory road bike. He too is soaking wet but unusual for a V engine rider, is wearing Klim gear - adventure stuff, so he is comfortable and swears by Klim over the traditional leathers. He tells of heading to an airport so that he can catch a flight home (in the South West) and respond to a big bid for his company. When done, he will fly back and continue riding. Gotta admire that.

Finally, a hippy kinda looking guy pulls up in a beat up Caravan, opens the hatch, pulls out a banjo and a sign that says "Will sing for gas". We pull out of the station after the weather clears with the sounds of banjo man demonstrating a lot of talent and a big melodic voice.

Next Stop: Camping in White Horse - Not

Highway 37

km = 17,888

Highway 37 is an amazing road. It’s a minor road and is paved with sealer - essentially, a gravel road with a tar/stone topping. Here we get a taste of the next week’s riding. Frost damages the road easily, heavy rain fall erodes the hills and creek overflow eat chunks of the road, requiring major repairs. We hit several patches of “loose gravel” from repairs and multi kilometre sections of gravel road where entire sections needed a rebuild and apparently, there was no budget for a topping. 

The highway is called the Stewart-Cassiar highway and it is one of only two routes from BC to Yukon and Alaska.

More evidence that we are in the North - snow on the mountains

yeah - snow

I discover later, that Jonathan’s room mate Regan, hails from the village of New Hazelton, a small mining town that we pass through just before turning north to highway 37. New Hazelton is west of South Hazelton, which is South of Hazelton. The villages were founded in 1866 when the first telegraph was installed. The area has a place in Canadian history because it had the only hospital to support the Omineca Gold Rush and it was the scene of two major Union Bank robberies in 1913 and 1914. That’s what I love about motorcycle touring - it connects us to people and history. 

Rapids and a gorge used to spear and net spawning salmon (click on the pic for more detail)

A quick photo at the start of the highway also reminds us that we are near the Alaskan border where it reaches down the coast to Canada. Hyder is a popular destination for many riders, but I have read that it’s also a bit of an expensive rip off. No worries, we don’t have time for that any ways. 

Entrance to Highway 37

We meet a group of riders from Washington who are heading for Hyder. It’s a mixed group with loud Harley cruisers, some adventure bikes and one young buck on a crotch rocket. His dad is carrying his gear but he can’t be comfortable after all these miles. There is only one way to learn … We cross paths several times during the ride. 

We find another scenic place to stop for a photo a bit down the road. As we start to prepare to depart the site, a four wheel drive vehicle stops and a man pops out carrying a commercial video camera. He is doing a documentary on bears and advises us that the creek that’s 50 feet from where we stopped is a popular place for bears - did we see any? No, because we were oblivious to that fact. We head over to take a look and the creek is full of spawning salmon with a few dead fish at the sides of the creek. The Bears like those - easy to catch and starting to get tasty in their own sauce. Alas, there are no bears to see but we watch the salmon pool, then wiggle up the fast, shallow water sections to the next pool.

The photographer advises us that at the end of 37, turn left to Hyder Alaska and we would see many bears. That’s where he was heading to for this documentary. We appreciate the suggestion but that detour will need to wait for the next trip - we are on a tight schedule.

First we stopped to photograph this view - more snow in the mountains

Panorama of the mountains (and videographer who interviewed us later)

Roads good, mountains good, not save to piss by the river due to bears

Salmon pooling, getting ready to go up the shallows to the next pool. Bears love eating here.

Salmon run colours

Salmon river location.

near Stewart-Cassiar Hwy, Kitimat-Stikine

This area has some interesting options. Unfortunately, our timeline does not allow us to explore them since the Dempster is our objective.

We miss this view by turning right instead of left. It would have cost us one more day. Another reason to redo this trip (Tom)

37 is delivering large servings of curves and hills with minimal other traffic. We pass the occasional RV but in one section, a pickup truck becomes annoying because the driver speeds up to prevent passing on the short passing sections and then slows down to below speed limit on the curves. With the radios, once the lead rider passes a vehicle, he can call back a clear road, safe for the other riders to pass. I find an opening on a longer downhill, am ready in a low gear and gun it. As predicted the pickup driver steps on it as well but there is enough room and power to beat him on this stretch. Just as the BMW pulls up beside the truck, a large black bear sow wanders out of the tree line into my lane. She is several hundred feet ahead but in my lane. I execute wilderness rule number 1 for wildlife on the road - hit the brakes hard. With all the gear, the Beemer takes her time slowing down. Fortunately, numb nuts in the pickup hits the brakes as well, but not enough for me to get in front or behind. The bear assess the situation and upon seeing two vehicles bearing (no pun intended) down on her, decides the tree line is the place to be so she pops back into the woods. I gun it and finish the pass, but apparently was yelling into the helmet intercom. Jeff and Cipi were so busy watching the two cubs in the tree that they didn’t see the sow. That was a close call and my heart and breathing rate were through the roof - good news - no need to change parts. 

I am not going to hold myself blameless for the situation since were were driving a bit aggressively on the road in order to keep what we now know is a “way too tight” time schedule, but I wonder what thinking process rationalizes the pick up driver’s behaviour of doing everything in their power to disrupt the motorcycles with the possible outcome of a collision. That’s why we use power to get away from cagers - the farther away we are, the safer. 

Cipi had to dip into his reserve fuel on 37 and we were starting to run low. A gas station shows up in a place called Bell II. The location’s other feature is a resort and heli skiing port. It has started to rain which drives home the North Weather message: If you like/don’t like the weather, wait 10 minutes and it will change. We sit out the rain with a baked snack from the resort.

Gas station in the middle of no where (winter pic from Google)

The sky clears and we cross the bridge and just around the bend, out of site of the construction crew, is a small black bear in the middle of the road. Cipi sees his first bear up close. I’m a bit worried because there is no such thing as a single bear cub. Momma is near by watching. We give him a lot of distance but he is in no hurry to leave the road. When he does, we continued and shortly are back into a drizzle rain condition. It’s 3pm so we need to think about where we’ll stay for the evening and since this area is so remote, you need to make a commitment to a location or it may be another one to two hours before the next opportunity arrives. Also, we don’t have food for dinner. 

At 5:30, it’s still raining and we come across the Indian village of Iskut. It has a general store so we decide to buy food for dinner. We ask the clerk if there are any camps here and she mentions the Mountain Shadow RV camp up the street but doesn’t know if it has tenting spots. Back on the road, the camp is literally 2 km up the street (and she doesn’t know about it’s facilities?? - I guess when you are isolated, you get to choose how isolated you want to be). Apparently, the camp is for sale - check out the details. My suspicion is that the asking prices is many times higher than the Net Present Value of all future cash flows, so you would want to live in an isolated winter world for big chunks of the year. From a camping perspective we liked it. Dry camp site and showers - bring coins. 

The camp is down a steep mountain road but the new, well maintained mountain cabin is a good sign. Yes they have tent sites and yes, they have showers. What more could you want for $15. There is a bit of firewood so we can heat up dinner - life is good, even the rain stops long enough to set up camp. Cipi has his new sleeping bag so he should be warm. We also notice that twilight stays past 10:30 - we must be up north.

First Camp - Houston

We were getting a bit tired and Cipi wanted to ensure that we would camp tonight. He wanted to drink several Four Lokos (a wild and crazy beverage that has a wacky impact on him) and check out sleeping in a hammock tent. By dusk, we found a great little family run RV and tent camp near Houston. They had a section for tents and catered to motorcycle touring types. We picked a nice site and set up for the first time. I had to teach Cipi how to select the trees for a hammock and how to use the two ring plus carabiner short cut for connecting the hammock, and finally how to set up the fly (tent fly, not pant fly). He got it … inflated his foam/air mattress and was ready for the evening. Jeff and I set up the MEC tent - and the fly smelled weird - sort of like piss. Jeff thought it was the poly urethane coating, but I thought it was piss. The tent was last used at a weekend music festival, and my guess is some drunk festival goer got up at night and pissed wherever they were pointed …  Ughh, not the best image before falling to sleep.

Shady Rest RV camp - the best site on the trip

Our Camp site is marked in the top center - nestled in the trees (to hang a hammock)

We head into Houston to look for food and ended up at the recommended restaurant. Jeff had a pasta dish and Cipi and I had local fish, kitchen made, fish and chips - it was really good (no food porn). We strike up a conversation with the server who is interested in where are are going. She is native but has very fair features and doesn’t have much awareness of the rest of Canada. We are definitely starting to get into the north of BC. The ratio of pickup trucks to cars and natives to “immigrants” is changing. The town wasn’t particularly friendly to the strangers on motorcycles but then, we were definitely outsiders in many ways. 

Back to camp at dusk - 10:30, that’s new as well (the days are definitely getting longer), a little camp fire, some beer and Four Loko and Cipi is ready for bed. Where’s your sleeping bag dude? I ask. “What, I was supposed to bring a sleeping bag? - it wasn’t on the list”. You don’t go camping without a sleeping bag I reply. You’re going to be cold tonight. 

Cipi - success setting up the hammock

Taking the Beemer to the wood shed

What do you mean - I should have brought a sleeping bag????

7 PM and the sun is still high in the sky

Camp site set up and ready to go to dinner

The camp offered great quality showers so I’m off for an S³(Shower, Sh!t and Shave) before bed. The sky is very clear with no light pollution - so it was cold at night, We wake up to Cipi returning from the showers. He’s finally warmed up after a chilly night and inquires about how he could come into possession of a sleeping bag - Canadian Tire is the answer. 

Of course he forgets to lock the shower room door so he’s greeting with a surprise, or perhaps he delivers a surprise to the old man opening the unlocked door, expecting privacy, only to find a naked Romanian bear. Jeff suggested “next time you leave the door unlocked, make sure it’s the lady’s shower and the outcome will be more interesting”