Dawson City and the Dempster Highway

Leaving Whitehorse (on my new bumpy tire), I turned north off the Alaska Highway in the direction of Dawson City, a place that I visited five years ago and would like to return to from time to time.

I was recently asked why I like Dawson. And I was recently asked to tell the ran-out-of-gas story from 2002. These items go well together. After fueling up my beloved “The Chief” (my old camper) in Whitehorse, I refueled once along the way, but then passed by another gas station, faithfully anticipating that The Chief’s fuel capacity (never truly tested before, and there was no reliable gas gauge to assist with such things) would deliver Griffin and I to the next town, Dawson. With maps and road signs to help judge distances, I figured that I was roughly twenty miles south of town when The Chief began to sputter. Although there were few placed to pull off the road, luck delivered a The Chief-sized road-side gravel patch where I parked my home, walked Griff, gave him some food, put on my running shoes, grabbed my (empty – grrrrr) gas can and set out for a little evening jog.

Not fifty feet from The Chief, a car approached from the south. I held up the (empty – booooo) gas can and made some sort of gesture that identified me as a helpless tourist. The driver stopped and offered me a ride to town, and since she was on her way to drop her daughter off and was then to return, she offered me a ride back to the camper. Not only did she have the consideration to take me to the most reasonably-priced station in town, but she gave me a tour of the place, which she was quite qualified to do as she worked at the town’s information center.

I’ve not forgotten the hospitality that greeted me to Dawson City. And that same spirit seems to persist among most everyone in town, year-round residents, summer-time workers and tourists alike. Add the facts that the town is at the confluence of the Klondike and Yukon Rivers, that it is seated among rolling green mountains and that it presents a top-notch restoration of its gold-mining past – and I am sold. This is a great place (at least in the summer).

When in town the last time, I stayed in an in-town campground, which made sense since I was in an RV. But I recall visiting a pub named Bombay Peggy’s. It was in a restored (and relocated) house that also serves as an inn. The building has had a number of uses in the past but it seems to be celebrated most for the time that it served as a brothel. In 2002, I decided that if I were to return to Dawson, I would stay at Bombay Peggy’s. And so I have. This is my third and last night here. I’ve enjoyed the inn and the pub, but I have not even inquired about other services which have most likely been discontinued.

I’ve enjoyed my stay in Dawson. Again, the town is hospitable and charming. Highlights have been going on several runs including one to the top of Dawson’s Midnight Dome, where people flock to celebrate the 24-hour sunshine on the summer solstice, just a few days away!

Earlier today I took a ride about 75 miles up the Dempster Highway, where the word “highway” translates best to “gravel road.” The ride north on the Dempster shows the transition from forested land to tundra. TUNDRA! . . .where the latitude is sufficient that the tree line drops below the ground level. To continue on the Dempster would deliver one to the artic circle and then eventually to Inuvik. I did not go so far as either of these. I’ve got a couple reasons for that, but I’m very happy that I went as far as I did. To the top perhaps on another day.

To complete the ran-out-of-gas story, I should mention that my (empty – argghhh!) gas can held only two gallons. The Chief did well to get ten miles to the gallon. There was no assurance that I would make it to town even with the spare gas! Turns out that we were closer to fifteen miles out of town, but still pulled in on little more than fumes.

On this trip I know my vehicle’s range and I don’t pass gas stations without knowing I can make it to the next. My GPS helps!

Alaska Highway, First 940 Miles

This report based on the 940 mile stretch of the Alaska Highway between Dawson Creek and Whitehorse. But first, some thoughts on common perceptions of the Alaska Highway and my recollections from traveling it five years ago.

When I first set out in 2002 to drive to Alaska, I was warned about terrible road conditions, unpredictable weather, dangerous wildlife and hostile logging trucks. I was told that I had better fortify my vehicle with items to protect against rocks that have taken flight to escape truck tires and to carry additional fuel as gas stations are far apart and sometimes closed.

When Griffin and I set out in our semi-reliable four-wheel drive motorhome, we did indeed encounter an Alaska Highway that was unique vs. other roads. There were stretches under construction or damaged by winter’s frost heaves. Some of these stretches involved dirt, mud, gravel, ruts and potholes. But I had no sense that the road was impassable. We found it to be a complete misnomer that the weather was unpredictable, since rain and fog were constants during our entire ride. Logging trucks were present, but the RVs were far more menacing, and we never encountered flying gravel. I was not cocky that I beat the road, I was thankful that it was easy on me. I did actually run out of gas at one point and I reacted by putting on my running shoes and grabbing my (empty – duh!) gas can – but that was due to my own stupidity and it’s a story for another day.

Although I believe that currently there is considerable construction further up the road, so far I have encountered very good road conditions. There have been a few 10-mile sections of gravel but they have been entirely manageable and actually pretty fun. For those sections, I stop and disengage the ABS, then stand on the footpegs and look straight ahead while motoring forward in low gear. Just like I learned at Jim Hyde’s class. No problem!

On this trip, the predictability of the weather has been a bit less reliable. But when compared to the all-rain condition of my previous visit, that is a good thing. I’ve stopped deliberating in the morning as to if I should start off with my rain gear. The answer is “yes, it will rain at some point.” While I’ve had my share of rain over the last few days, I’ve also had the clouds lift to reveal entire landscapes flooded with sunlight. And since the weather limited my view back in 2002 (and since my work-only-on-certain-days windshield wipers didn’t help matters), I’m truly seeing much of this land for the first time.

In my mind, there is an odd balance in this area between rain and sunlight. Although I’d prefer to remain dry, the rain surely must be responsible for the lush and life-full land. For that, I am grateful for the rain.

Speaking of the life in this land, I should report that while I’ve seen very little wildlife most days, I saw very many animals on the day I rode from Fort Nelson to Watson Lake. On that single day I saw no fewer than five moose, four buffalo, eight sheep and four thousand mosquitoes, each the size of a ham (okay, so the ham part was for fun). One moose encounter is worth further description. I had stopped along side of the road to take some photos (I haven’t been getting off the bike as much now that I’m all wired in with my heated clothing and audio system). And when I looked forward and prepared to start the bike, along came a moose. It was probably about 50 feet away but it was huge! My heart raced for a moment, then I noted that the moose wasn’t particularly anxious, so I didn’t feel that I should be either. I started the bike and edged forward. Looking straight at me, the moose took a few steps in my direction. I found this interesting, since I figured he (like most, since I am in need of clean clothes) would prefer to walk away. I pulled forward slightly, but ready to turn and speed off if needed. The moose took a few steps closer. Sort of neat in a way, but what would happen when we reached each other? At ten feet in height (seemingly), this guy was way bigger than me and my moose of a bike combined. In another moment, he crossed the road and headed into the woods.

I’ll end this post by describing how my bike (but not my wallet) had some very good luck in Whitehorse. You might recall that I put knobby tires on my bike in Spokane. And you might recall me saying that while knobbies are great for off-road and semi-off-road riding, they are good for far fewer miles than other “street” tires. Back in Spokane I calculated my expected mileage to Anchorage. I planned that a 3,000-4,000 mile tire would get me there easily with quite a few miles to spare. But when the roads in western British Columbia washed out and I needed to double back instead of take a ferry part way, my expected mileage increased significantly. I hadn’t thought too much about it until I was in Watson Lake, about 300 miles east of Whitehorse. In Watson Lake, I looked at the tires and realized for myself that I could make it to Fairbanks if I went there directly. But I really wanted to take a northern detour up the Klondike highway up to Dawson City. Out of sheer luck, the first bike shop I called in Whitehorse (no BMW dealership in town) had the exact tire I wanted, and they were able to install it exactly when I wanted. Guess how much that cost. . .

So from Whitehorse, I’ve headed north to Dawson City, a town that I really love. But more on that in my next post – now it’s time to find a bite to eat.

But wait! Just two more items:

1) When I told her I was in the Yukon’s big town (Whitehorse) my mom asked, “how big is a big town in he Yukon?” A web search gives 2003 data of about 22,000 people, 70% of the province’s population.

2) I have recently established a new policy that I will definitely wash my bike after each ride. I have also officially noted that this three-month ride is half over.

Candidate for Best Photo

This might be my favorite shot from the trip so far. It's not often that I'm the toughest kid at the bike rack. . .

Alaska Highway, Mile Zero

Hello from Dawson Creek, the beginning of the Alaska Highway. It’s Saturday June 9 and I’m hunkered down at the Super 8, which – for this town – is pretty super.

Without a whole lot to say, I wanted to post that the flooding issues in northern BC still persist but I have (pretty easily) found a way around the most troubled areas. Tomorrow I’ll start on the Alaska Highway. I plan to take my time and cover about 350 miles a day. This is a slow-paced goal but with construction and weather conditions unknown, I’ll be happy to feel no self-imposed pressure to put in very long days.

Also, short riding days mean that I can put in a few running miles. This evening I went for my first run since the Kelowna 25k. By some (legitimate) standards I probably ran about five miles. But at “Mile Zero” of the Alaska Highway, the RME multiplier is very high indeed (since it needs to be) – I’ll settle on an exact number after some “actual v. goal” gap analysis.

My run was interesting for the following two reasons:

1) At one point I passed a sketchy RV park / bar combination business. There were quite a few police at the edge of the driveway and all access was taped off. I jogged in that direction to see how I might help (read: snoop about what was going on) and they shooshed me away very quickly with not so much as an “eh” or a smile.

2) On my way back to the hotel, I picked up some Guinness beer (4-pack cans) and continued to jog purchase in hand. I saw two other GS riders and waved, then realized that without my bike or gear I appeared as a friendly jogging drunk. I was okay with that.

The bugs are getting larger and less shy as I head further north. When I stop roadside to stretch, eat, etc, flies and mosquitoes are upon me in a heartbeat. I understand that this condition will magnify as head still further north. No official complaint just yet; merely an observation.

Lastly, I’ll describe that riding in the rain is becoming routine. Other than once in Tennessee, I have yet to be dumped on in a major way. But over the last week or so, I’ve encountered at least some rain most days. I had brought rain gear with me, but it turns out that the stuff I brought leaked. So while on Vancouver Island, my new pal Lee took me to a shop where I was able to pick up a great jacket & pants. Also, he gave me his pair of gloves – neoprene in material, much like a dive suit – great idea! (for those interested, my frog toggs worked out horribly, the BC Viking brand work gear is working out quite well).

Ok, I’ve written more that you’d probably care to read. Time for a Guinness!

you can not get there from here

Leaving Kelowna, I had about three weeks before I needed to be in Anchorage where I’ll meet Anna and where we’ll both (God willing) run the Mayor’s Marathon. My plan was to head west to Vancouver Island, travel to the north of that island, catch a ferry to the northern coat of British Columbia and then ride north. Things have not worked out that way. Instead, they’ve worked out as follows:

From the incredibly hot Kelowna, I headed northwest, then west, then southwest in a counter-clockwise direction to get to southwest British Columbia. The ride through Lillooet, Pemberton, Whistler and Squamish is jaw-dropping, especially on a clear day. Mountainous areas there range from very dry to quite lush. And at most time a view of a river, often right along the road.

Along this route I met up with five other bikers – we chatted for a bit and found ourselves riding together for a while, then grabbing dinner together. While at dinner, the sky clouded over, then thundered, then dropped rain. One of the people – Dean – mentioned that the rivers along roads we had just ridden may rise as a result of snow runoff from the recently-warm weather, soon to be compounded by predictably significant rainfall. Since I was headed in the opposite direction, such concerns were certainly not mine. Or so I thought.

The following day moose and I rode the BC ferry to Vancouver Island. On the ride I met up with John and Judy and we talked about a dozen topics, including where it might be good to stay overnight on the island. John’s solution to that topic was “another island.” He mentioned that he and Judy had built a home on a neighboring island quite a few years ago and more recently built a second, larger house. The offer to stay overnight in a house all to myself was not to be passed by.

I followed John, Judy and their son LJ from the ferry terminal for about twenty minutes to a shoreline area where they parked their car and launched a small motorboat. The four of us piled in and headed three miles to the very small island where they live. I would most definitely be lying if I were to say that I wasn’t slightly uncomfortable leaving my bike behind and boarding such a small boat headed for the unknown. At the same time, my gut was very comfortable with these three people. And I typically follow my gut (convenient, since it sticks out in front of me).

I absolutely loved the visit with John, Judy and LJ. Their home so far from the mainstream is admirable and inspiring. I’m not sure how I failed to get a photo of these new friends, but I’ll let a couple other shots do the talking.

In the morning, John took me back to Vancouver Island and I headed south to meet up with Lee, a fellow GS rider I had been in touch with via ADV Rider. Lee’s schedule allowed him to spend quite a bit of the day with me, riding the southern part of the island and showing me some f the best roads and views. While riding with a new friend was the best part, a certain errand is worthy of description.

As one of his several security-related work programs, Lee is authorized to work on ATM machines. At one point during our ride, he received a call that an ATM on the lower level of a nightclub needed work and so we visited the club. Since the lower level was not open during the day, Lee asked to speak with the manager – she reacted with great skepticism when she saw two bikers arrive to fix her cash machine. While a completely unique experience, fixing an ATM in the dark basement of a Canadian nightclub fits quite neatly into a long list of things that I’d never have predicted I might have done recently.

Incidentally, Lee did point out that quite a bit of Vancouver Island and certain other islands are below the 39^th parallel. Since that line defines most of the US/Canada border, I asked him if that land shouldn’t really belong to the US. I did promise hat I wouldn’t try to make a big deal of this with my fellow countrymen, so let’s handle this one gently, ok?

I headed north a couple hours to find a hotel a little closer to where I’d need to catch the ferry two mornings later. The ferry ride would begin at 7:30 AM and would deliver me to Prince Rupert late in the evening. From Prince Rupert I’d head east just past the town of Terrace, then head north on the Stewart Cassiar Highway on my way to the Yukon and Alaska.

At breakfast the following morning I spoke with a couple park rangers who stayed at the same hotel. I had overheard them speak about flooding to the north and mudslide that closed route 16, right near Terrace. I am REALLY glad I spoke with these rangers. If not, I may well have taken the ferry (15 hours, $350) to a town from which there would be no practical way to leave.

I left Vancouver Island later that day and returned to the mainland. I headed to Squamish, where I’d spent the night three nights earlier. While checking in at that night’s hotel, a person approached me and asked, “are you riding to Alaska?” “Why yes.” Chris introduced himself and told me about how he had tried to ride north two days in a row. Apparently, the same road that I had enjoyed earlier in the week had indeed flooded. It seems that Dean’s words were in fact very applicable indeed.

It seems that heavy snows last winter, combined with a hot spell last weekend (my warm run in Kelowna was – in fact – unseasonably warm) AND recent rain has caused the rivers to run quite full and certain flood plains to earn their classification.

So how will I head north? Tough to say at this point, but I’m pretty sure it’ll be interesting!

two pals, two runs, two countries

Yikes!! I haven’t posted here with actual events for two weeks. A lot has happened! I’ll pick up where I left off last time and describe visits from two friends. Then (likely) in a separate post(s) I’ll describe my solo-once-more adventures in southern British Columbia.

As expected, the tire change went well and the very helpful BMW shop found a few other needed (and costly) maintenance items. Including brakes. I like brakes. At certain times I like them even more than the throttle. A few hours later, I rolled out onto the pavement and bumped my way along on the new knobby tires.

Bumping along, I headed over to the Spokane airport to greet my friend Debra. She hopped in her spiffy powder blue Taurus rental car (a.k.a. the “blue bull,” also “diablo azul”) and followed me back into Idaho. With the Couer d’Alene half marathon only a day or two away, we worked hard to carbo load on nachos. This is a very delicate training approach and I suggest that newcomers start small.

The race was great fun, especially before and after all the running nonsense. It was a crisp day, perfect for a long run. Debra ran like the wind and I lumbered over the finish line about ten minutes behind her. After the run we hiked some of Couer d’Alene city trails, hiked a bit on Mt Spokane and explored the city of Spokane.

I have several observations about northern Idaho and western Washington, as follows:

- Although the attitude is relaxed, certain rules are never to be broken. Example: if you ask for an extra large running shirt and find out later that a large would suit you better, there will be no swapping until the exact moment when such practices are allowed.

- In this hotbed of elaborate coffee drinks, a simple drip coffee is easy to order and pay for but oh so difficult to actually get.

- The entire area is beautiful.

The blue bull and moose headed back to the Spokane airport and I saw Debra off. Moments later I received a call from my pal Tanya telling me that her flight had arrived.

* * * It is appropriate at this point to mention that while I’m blessed with friends who will fly to travel with me, the appearance of two girl pals may seem suspect. Thank you Anna for understanding that having friends visit is a ton of fun for me compared to going it alone – worry not, as you are the only one to enjoy my heartfelt renditions of select Rod Stewart songs. * * *

Upgraded to a fine white Nissan Sentra, Tanya caravanned with me and the moose east, to Glacier National Park. The hiking in Glacier is wonderful and we were lucky to visit before the summertime crowds had assembled.

We went for a motorcycle ride through the park but as (bad) luck would have it, the five-star Going to the Sun Road was closed at points after particularly difficult winter conditions.

From Glacier we headed to Kelowna, British Columbia where I was registered for a 25k (15.5 mile) trail run. Little did I know that Kelowna is positioned in the Canadian continuation of the US’s northern dessert lands. It was hilly and hot! And fun!

After an exhausting and dehydrating run, we and I did the only responsible thing in going out for a wine tasting tour – quite refreshing!

Good times all around – thank you my friends for visiting me!!

Performance Report 1 of 3

I’ve been on the road now for one of three months and so I present you with the first of three performance review reports.

When I set out on this trip I had set a few goals for myself. I intended to:
1) ride one huge loop around North America;
2) run 360 miles and
3) raise $3,600 for the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute.

I’ll now report on progress toward those goals and several other metrics that have proven relevant over the past four weeks.

RIDE ONE HUGE CIRCLE:
While the term “circle” might suggest to some a neatly rounded shape, I consider it to be any route that does not return to it’s origin by significantly repeating its “outward” path. Since I have not begun to return home, I can’t wholly report on this item, but I’m fairly confident that it won’t become an issue. I can report that my route so far has been winding and wonderful. Here is the output so far from my motorcycle’s GPS:



RUN 360 MILES:
I had initially planned that running 360 miles would be a reachable goal based on an average of four miles per day. It develops that running every day is not realistic. The availability of time, showers and suitable locations are in short supply on certain days. That said, as of May 31, I have run 114 miles, sixteen shy of plan. While that may not represent a significant shortfall, I anticipate that showers might be more difficult to come by as I head further north - - so any shortfall is undesirable at this point.

To help me with this metric, I now introduce a new unit of measure, the Road Mile Equivalent, or “RME.” Defined (by me), an RME is the amount of running effort involved in running one mile, on the road, free of hills, at sea level, at a temperature of 68 degrees Fahrenheit, with a healthy tail wind. I think that the RME just might be the answer to all of my problems. For example, if I run one mile on a hilly trail at elevation, that mile could easily translate to 1.6 RMEs. And the best part is that, sine this is my concept, I can assess each run any way convenient to me. And better yet, I reserve the right to retroactively adjust.

At this point, I can say with overwhelming confidence that I am on target to complete 360 RMEs prior to the trip’s completion. In fact, it’s possible that I’m already done.

Of possible interest to the quantitative among you, I’ll post this screen shot of the spreadsheet I use to log and later manipulate numbers.



RAISE $3,600:
Thank you!!!! . . .to those of you who have given gifts to the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute. Their goals are important to me as they perform research for cures to cancer and provide assistance to those affected. In memory of my father, I decided to support this organization and I’m pleased that many of you have decided to show your support as well.

NOTE: as my father’s son, I actually do know the importance of good accounting – I suspect he’d chuckle along with faux-accounting concepts of the RME as discussed above.

As I’ve mentioned before, in my mind, the number of people that support the cause is every bit as important as the amount of money raised. That said, sixteen gifts have netted $3,165. Clearly, more clicks are welcome - if interested, the link to the donation page is HERE

OTHER METRICS:
Total Motorcycle Miles: 7,249
Average Miles per Gallon: 41.35
States Visited: 16
Provinces Visited: 1
Weddings Attended: 1
Beers Consumed: this number under construction.