Yesterday John, Symon and I (Mike left by him self earlier) rose in leisurely style at about 8 am; had breakfast – first motel to include it – and then set off at about 9.30 in pouring rain! We rode to the gold prospecting town of ‘Chicken’ on perfect roads for about sixty miles. After a coffee and helmet clean up at Chicken we rode on – on wet, muddy, dirt road for 30 miles to the Canadian border. While riding took a lot of concentration the views where amazing and I’ve made some hi-def video shots with my on bike cam recorder for when I get home. The good news was that the rain had let up by now and by the Canadian border it had stopped. Once over the border we were initially on good roads and again were goggle eyed by panoramic views of mountains all around us – though you do start to take the view for granted as the tens of miles clock by. Sadly the good road soon disappeared and we rode the best part of 60 miles to the Yukon River on gravel roads.
Riding on gravel roads is interesting: it feels a bit like your on ice in that the front of the bike (and the rear) just keeps sliding by a few inches from side to side all the time. And, totally counter intuitively, if the front squirms too much in thick gravel you accelerate and the quicker you go the less it squirms. So we batted along at about 50 to 60 mph and got to the Yukon River by 4 pm where we boarded a free ferry boat – it took about 10 cars at a time – before riding into Dawson City.
Dawson City is either a gross tourist attraction or a bit of the past preserved – depends whether you’re a cynic or not. Must admit I can take it or leave it. By ten in the evening and after a few beers it became apparent that everybody and their mother was out partying; then someone told me it was Canada day! Most of us spent the later part of the evening in the casino which is owned by a charitable trust that puts any profits back into Dawson City. The stage act was pretty good and I had an enjoyable evening before retiring to bed.
Today is a rest day before a long old haul south again tomorrow. Slowly we start to head back to America now – though on the way I will pass near if not through Cranbrook, British Columbia where my great grandfather (maternal side) started life anew (when he was about sixty) early last century – I think I got that right. If we do I may stop and photograph the grave for my sister!