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