This Is Yukon Territory

326. 

In pounds,  that's what I weighed when I stopped at the weigh station just outside of Tok.  That means I'm pulling exactly my body weight when fully loaded, ~160lbs, that's a lotta hooch!  I have since cut down somewhat on some of the stuff I was carrying, for instance, the bag of rice I had been carrying since Anchorage, and hadn't even  touched.  There was a bottle of italian dressing I had opened and used once, also in ANC, that (along with the bag of rice) I gave to Brad & Beverly who cooked me dinner and camped near me one evening.

Lots has happened since my last post, which seems decades ago.  I'm in Whitehorse now, making some significant progress and posting some good miles.  The weather has definitely started changing just in the past week, and it's been a lot colder riding, and outright miserable if it rains (I struggle to stay warm once I get wet).  It's nice to know that I'm heading South since leaving Tok.  The wind has been bad in some areas.  Leaving Kluane lake, I had a headwind the ENTIRE day to Haines Junction.  There were two significant downhills, that I actually had to pedal to go down the hill!!!  It's been getting dark now around 11pm, which is now kind of strange not being able to see later in the night! 

The roads continue to be troublesome at times.  There have been stretches of chip seal and even just gravel-dusty roads.  One day, it basically alternated between bad chip seal, to gnarly chip seal.  Some of the locals I spoke with, simply refer to it as just "chip".  I realized that in order to make any progress, I have to continue across it, and just have to deal with the bumpiness and the resulting vibration (numb hands, annoying squeaks and rattles, gear becoming loose and requiring tightening).

I continue to find some good campsites, some are definitely better than others, but all free of course.  Some are next to creeks or rivers, and quite a few times, there's a fire ring and dry wood that allows me to make a hardy fire to keep the bugs away and cook dinner with!

The mosquitoes became quite worse for almost the whole stretch between Tok and Haines Junction.  Mainly in the evening, but also in the morning, they swarm my face.  It became almost a daily thing that even in my paper journal, I just made an abbreviation: MS to refer to them.  On my "day of rainbows" (see next paragraph), at the end of the day it was very bad.  The best way I can describe it is that I was VIOLENTLY attacked by mosquitoes when I got off my bike and made camp.  They made a cloud around my head, and hummed like bees.  I scrambled to make a fire, but even standing in the smoke from the fire, barely kept them at bay.  I had to make dinner as quickly as possible and climb into the tent (had to do this for quite a few days).  I guess at least with the colder weather on the way, MS can't handle it.

My first day out of Tok, I refer to as "the day of rainbows".  I had quite a late start after having to update the blog, go to the grocery store, etc.  [Big thankyou again to Fred for buying me breakfast! We started talking inside Fast Eddie's, and was so impressed with my trip that he bought my food, so nice of you!]  I had a few light rain showers, but then I would continue to see several different areas with rainbows, and nearly every time... DOUBLE RAINBOWS (inside joke).  I had an incredibly beautiful moment closer to the end of my day near Lake Tetlin:  It was absolutely quiet, no cars, no wind.  The lake was glass, and on the other side, a rainbow shot out from a cloud into the forest and was reflecting off the lake (see following pictures).

The day I rode to the border, might have been one of the worst or challenging days I've ever had biking (maybe besides my 'super-century' 136 mile day that I did on my last bike trip, to get down to Crescent City and surprise my friend Miles).  Shortly after leaving camp, it started raining, and would continue to rain the entire day.  I was cold and miserable riding the 60 miles to the border, and was borderline hypothermic:

Riding along, my feet soaked and spongy in my shoes, I kept my head down with the light headwind blasting my face with cold water.  My rain jacket had become useless and was saturated.  I put a sweater on underneath when I stopped to eat, but it didn't help much.  My feet and hands went from numb to painful.  Trying to use my thumbs to shift was pointless, and had to resort to using my palms to shift at times.  The highlight of the day was riding along, and hearing some honking behind me.  It was Bill, an older nice guy that had simply said to me, "what do you need?", when he walked up to me at the grocery store in Tok and provided some TP and pens.  This time when he pulled over, I was honest, and simply said, "I'm cold... do you have anything hot to drink?".  He didn't of course, but offered a ride to a nearby campground.  I thankfully declined, but before leaving, asked me, "do you have any chocolate?".  I shook my head, and that's when he got out, climbed into the back of his van, and emerged with a package of 6 chocolate bars, and gave the whole thing to me.  Promptly scarfing a whole bar down, I heartily thanked Bill and told him I'll be fine (I can always pitch my tent and get in my sleeping bag if it EVER gets bad enough).  Recharged, I took off...  I made it to the border that night, and camped for the first time in Canada.

Leaving Beaver Creek, with more bad chip seal in the late afternoon sun and a steady headwind, my spirits plummeted.  Riding along on the 'alternating bull-shit', I finally stopped and decided to make camp at a small clearing next to the road.  It was still early in the evening ~6pm, so I had time after dinner to look through maps.  I had an epiphany.  For some stupid reason, I hadn't even thought about road closures in the states, and saw that  even around Yellowstone, the roads "close in winter".  I realized at my current pace, that even by the time I got down to Arizona and into Flagstaff, it'd be the dead of winter (I should have known this, I've been to Flagstaff before and it gets a fair amount of snow and is VERY cold.  For some reason I thought I had enough time).  I recalculated my route and figured I would have to start doing some serious long days, no messing around, no detours... start busting my ass south!  Instead of a minimum of 40 mile days, I would start shooting for 60 mile days, this would get be back sooner almost by 2 months, and hopefully through my Rockies route in time before the snow and cold start.  The following day, I posted a 50-something day, and was thoroughly pleased with myself. 

I had one cool moment when I stopped to ask some guys for water on the side of the road.  They were doing first aid for a geology team.  I was in a hurried pace trying to make some distance, they filled up all my bottles, and told me to leave the plastic bottles I emptied on the ground.  I took off on my bike between them, and sped-off... my own pit-stop crew, cool!

Since then, I have been making great progress, and doing days no less than 50.  I have had to cut some previously planned detours, like riding to Haines (which everyone says is beautiful).  Instead, I rode direct from Haines Junction to Whitehorse, almost entirely in a day (camped just outside of town, did about 90 mile day). 

I am now much more motivated and focused.  Something clicked the other night, and I'm motivated and driven (survival trait?).  I have turned my attention from the scenery, and now to the pavement.  Although I am taking less pictures, possibly enjoying less of the scenery, I'm getting the job done.  Meeting a couple other cyclists, and hearing how they are doing long days, is always good inspiration, and has helped me as well. 

When I was riding past Kluane lake, I was trying to capture the road with the lake, and the mountains behind it with my camera.  I put my camera back into my handle bar bag as I began to fly down a hill, only to look up and see a brown bear on the side of the road.  I instinctively grabbed on my air horn a few times, that burst with sound.  The bear took off running immediately, and looked back before heading into the trees (not sure if it was grizzly or not, hard to distinguish the shoulder hump while it was running).  I biked for another 6-7 miles and came across a great campsite, lake-side, complete with a fire ring and next to the road.  As I just started to unload my bike, I noticed some bear poop (first I'd seen the whole trip).  It was richly red and with seeds, clearly it had been eating lots of berries.  I was tired from riding all day, I didn't care, and was going to pitch my tent there anyway, until a truck pulled up.

A lady hopped out, and shouted that there's a massive grizzly just around the corner, and that I "should be able to see it".  I climbed back up the hill to the road, and looked where she was pointing.  Turns out she was right.  Just further down the road, was a huge brown bear in the road walking along (had I continued biking, I would have ran into it - figuratively).  So I packed everything back up, and started back on the road, only to have more people in a van stop and tell me about the bear.  I waited for the next car going in my direction (both previous were going away from the bear), and fortunately it was a truck pulling a trailer.  I asked them to drive at my pace and get between me and the bear, and they happily obliged.  The bear had gone down to the lake or somewhere else by the time we rounded the corner.  I camped that night another 10 miles down the road, next to the people pulling the camper (Brad & Beverly).  They cooked me some dinner, and even gave me some chocolate.  We had a wonderful evening talking in their warm, cozy, camper... and I haven't seen any bears since (thanks again Brad and Bev!).

Some Thoughts While Riding:

I have become adept at haphazardly hanging bags of food from the back of my bicycle.  With no more room to put anything, this becomes a requirement.

I would rather not have any winds at all, so I wouldn't have to deal with a headwind.  Even with a tailwind, I suddenly expect to get there so much faster, that I become impatient. 

The middle of nowhere, is really the middle of somewhere...

Long days of daylight in the north makes for fantastic touring.  It allows ample time to get enough sleep, make good progress, and still have enough evening light to make camp, dinner, and even some guitar playing at times.

After making some distance, I have noticed the landscape changing.  It has evolved from glacier-capped, steep, huge, mountains, to rolling hills of forests, to some swamp land, to lakes/rivers with forested hills, and now I'm back to a forested mountainous area with some glaciers in the mountains again.

Such simple things like hot coffee in the morning, with cream and some brown sugar, make life on the road so much better.  Some difficult and/or cold days, even on my way into a city, I'll think of how I'm going to treat myself to a steaming cup of joe once I finish the day.

It feels good getting more miles in, earlier in the day.  By evening, I have more time to enjoy myself and relax - guitar, stretch, solid dinner, etc.

Just like my last trip; I have noticed there is an adjustment period to biking long days.  It seems there is a natural progression for a lot of cyclists, that as they continue to bike tour, evolve their trip into longer days.  Once you start getting use to spending long days on the bike, daily, it does become easier.  I've definitely been getting my biking legs back, and it feels good.

Sometimes, getting a late start, and people want to talk to me, I won't have time.  I have to apologize and just say "I'm sorry, I've gotta go".  I just don't have time sometimes to talk to people about my trip, it takes a long time to cover ground!

Leaving Kluane Lake, and the headwind I had to deal with was a tough day.  More than once I was screaming at the wind, "WHAT THE FUCKKKK!".   I was thinking while riding that day: the wind will break you, you fight it and you will lose; the wind will always win.

Canada is a lot like the U.S., but there are differences.  These differences are what make it so special.  It really feels like I'm in Canada now that I'm in a city, and conversing with people - such a great feeling.

Lots of semi trucks make some great effort to pass in the opposite lane, I always appreciate this and try to wave when they do so.  Most RV's/campers, are smaller than semis, but often do little to give me extra room on an already small shoulder.  I have had to ride often in the road because the shoulders are so bad, and with little traffic a lot of times, allowing me to do so.

It is always an exciting feeling approaching a city, where I know I have somewhere to stay.  After consecutive days of continually riding, the prospect of taking a shower, doing laundry, and taking a day off - sound like ecstasy.