Whitehorse, in Yukon Territory, is a city of ~25,000 people, representing 80% of the entire population of the Yukon.
Since the last post, I ran into the guys from Mexico on my second night in Stewart. We drove out to Watson Lake that morning. We camped the night before at Boyo Lake. We scored campsites on grass right on the water, We were fly fishing, catching nothing but a few imaginary strikes on the line, but enjoying the view, nonetheless.
Camping in a park here is pretty different than at home. The lady who manages the campground was cheerful, polite, and helpful. You will not see that from the grumpy old man in the trailer at a Georgia state park, right? They had a lot of canoes and kayaks for rent on an Honor System basis. You left some cash in the envelope with a signed Release, grab a paddle, and a life preserver, and go seek your Bliss. Noone steals the boats, paddles, or preservers. Noone seems to beat things up, or wear things out. Everyone fills out the form and pops money into the bin.
Imagine that. People behaving honestly and responsibly.
I am writing this blog post from a room overlooking the Yukon River and the town’s trolley station. The whole area is a sportsman’s dream. It has a few dark sides. I saw a couple of people passed out drunk on the sidewalk, a drug addict was aggressively pan-handling us in the A&W today. All that said, most of what I have seen here is just squeaky clean, polite, and mostly reasonable.
Until now, I have been reading Jack London’s books White Fang and Call of the Wild. I will also have to grab a copy of Robert Service’s writings. He is a legendary poet and writer from these parts.
We drove from Boyo Lake to the junction of the Cassiar Highway and the Alaska Highway. Cassiar ends at the Alaska Highway, and I actually drove the entire length of the Cassiar. This is not actually unusual, since there are no roads that leave the Cassiar from end to end that actually go somewhere as a highway would, just a bunch of short jaunts like to Stewart BC.
The last stretch of the Cassiar was a little depressing. Several Wildfires over 3 -10 years have left large swaths devastated for miles in every direction. However, amongst the burnt husks of the pines, the Aspen and Birch are thriving and generating a short, but thick blanket of forest everywhere.
The last stretch of the Cassiar was rough on my tires, being a rough road surface that chews up tires. By the time I reached Whitehorse, my Metlzer Tourance tires were flat as a pancake. I leaned the bike a lot, and had some good wear, but I simple could not even out the wear on these long straight stretches on rough road.
The Alaska Highway was even more epic than the Cassiar, but of course, had a lot more traffic. You come over a hill, and you see the road winding thru dozens and dozens of miles of low pine forest hills until the next mountain range over 50 miles away, maybe a 100. Who knows? Without the luxury of reading a real map while I ride, I am left to guess what I was looking and judge the distances by Dead Reckoning. Vast. Epic. Enormous. Empty.
Primordial, perhaps. very very very little signs of development besides the road itself. You can go 30 miles and not see a structure anywhere ,except maybe right alongside the road, here and there, but rarely.
Reaching Whitehorse was for me an accomplishment. I am very sure most adventure riders will just roll their eyes. I don’t really care. 5500 miles in a couple of weeks is a lot of riding, no matter how you slice it.
It’s my first time on a long ride. I have to ride at least that amount just to get back home, which seems all to very far away.
I love getting all the texts from folks, and those call while I am on the road have kept me in good company on many a long mile.
I must admit all these encouraging Texts from home like “Be Safe”, “Have Fun”, “What an Adventure”, “So Amazing”. hmm. The truth is I am wracked tired nearly all the time. If that’s fun, then I am doing it wrong. Then, there is the gear to manage. I have to pack and unpack the bike at least once or twice a day and then constantly play the Search the Bags game for every little thing. Yes, I organize where I put things. When you are road tired at the end of a long day, you simply must mine in the bags for what it is you need right then.
So.. while it is truly a big adventure, there is a side to it that is a grind. I try to keep my eyes on the adventure.