Spell of the Wild

Chuck:

  Cool morning, long, steady climb in a big half-circle.  Two miles later, I am high above the Rest Area and look down to my right front see our RV as Betty prepares to get on the road.  When I pedal over Steamboat Summit, the road starts downward past a large rock formation shaped vaguely like a steamboat.  Now coasting at 28 mph and increasing; the cool air and panoramic view are invigorating.  The free ride slows a bit, but continues for almost six miles, then I crank up and over a ridge for more free miles.  We are easing out of the Rockies and down into BC’s “Interior Plains”, actually forested hills.  The first thirty miles were mostly easy; Betty meets me at a Rest Area.  We have lunch and she goes on to Fort Nelson to check into a campground.  I follow, but the last twenty miles seem to drag.

  Fort Nelson is a small, active, working community, about 6,500.  On our way back from a grocery store, Betty spots an “All Sports” and suggests that I check for bike tubes. A previous Internet search did not list any bike shops in Fort Nelson.  Eureka!  This little shop has all sorts of sports gear:  hunting, fishing, kayaking, snow shoeing, hockey, football, trapping, etc. It is packed full.  I asked the young clerk about bike tubes.  He went back in the storage room and returned with three road bike tubes and two mountain bike tubes, all with the proper valves.  Wow, later in the afternoon I would have been drilling the road bike wheels to accept the larger valve stems for tomorrows ride.

Betty:  283 miles to the finish at Mile marker 0 in Dawson Creek.  Yeah!  Reports are that it is a good road between here and there.

  This morning we found that the plateau we’re on is actually the Summit Pass, the highest point on the Alcan Highway.  So, it is all downhill from there on, well maybe for about 4 miles.  I was so elated with this surprise that even the smaller ups and downs seemed to pass by easily.  We have adjusted our routine a bit due to the lack of spare tubes for the mountain bike.  Betty goes only a few miles ahead and waits until I get there before moving forward again.  If I do have a flat that a patch will not fix, she will realize it more quickly and can rescue me more easily.  So far, so good. 

  A highway inspector told us that there was an area of road maintenance prior to Steamboat Summit and then it was clear all the way from there to Dawson Creek (our finish point).  This sounds too good to be true.  Not long after we crossed the maintenance area, it was uphill for about 3 miles.  On these long uphill pulls, I find the right gear (usually very low) for my spin speed and “zone out”.  It is a mind game, but I find it helps if I concentrate on little things like body position; head down, elbows & knees in, toes pointed slightly downward to make the up-pull on the backstroke smoother and just keep spinning at the right speed.  Sometimes on a steep hill my forward speed is only about 4 mph, but that is faster than most folks can walk up a steep hill.  Just keep on, keeping on!

  Some of the roadside wildflowers are beginning to wither, some losing their brilliance, others going to seed.  Their very limited life span is coming to an end.  Grow into a miracle of beauty, then fade away; that’s life.

Betty:  What a surprise – Steamboat Mountain Summit gets a cell signal.  That is why I am able to post this.

Chuck:

  Departed Toad River Campground; beautiful morning, slight headwind.  About a mile out of the campsite, a young cow caribou crossed in front of me and descended down the steep hillside.  The road turned away from Toad River, had a few ups and downs then started following Racing River higher into the mountains.  Some road maintenance held up traffic to wait for a “Pilot Vehicle”.  They let me ride through on my own which was good; I avoided most of the dust.  We crossed Racing River on an old iron bridge and eventually we parted paths. The headwind increased.  Fortunately, Betty waited at a turnout three miles prior to our planned stop; the endless hills were wearing me out.  A shower, lotsa water, lunch and an hour’s rest helped.  But, the headwind was still a menace and the road is now constantly climbing on its way to Summit Pass, the highest point on the Alcan.  My bike is now always in one of its lower gears. Right when I needed a break, I saw four Stone Mountain Sheep on the vertical wall about one hundred feet above me.  I snapped a few photos, then back to pedaling.  Three uphill miles later, Betty was waiting at a small turnout on an almost level plateau before another three miles up to Summit Pass.  Enough for today!

  After dinner, Betty was reading and I was working on this entry as a male caribou stood on the road in front of us.  The shutter on Betty’s camera sounded like machine gun fire as she took pictures of this magnificent creature trotting right by us.  Then, and hour later, he (or another about the same size) trotted by going the opposite direction.  He stayed on the road for the half mile we could see.   

  “Climb the mountains and get their good tidings,

  Natures’ peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees,

  Winds will blow their own freshness into you,

  And storms their energy,

  As your cares fall away like the Autumn leaves.”        By: John Muir

 Betty: Pictures will be posted once we have unlimited internet (which means good old USA)

Chuck:

  What a glorious morning.  The sun is hitting the mountain tops above the still turquoise water of Muncho Lake, the blue sky is clear and the crisp cool air is invigorating.   The road continues to be flat as it hugs the lakeshore; the lake is about 11 miles long.  It gets narrower toward the SE end and is fed by Muncho Creek which flows out of the mountains.  The Alaska Highway follows this creek up-stream as it winds through beautiful spruce forests, over a ridge, then back down alongside a small stream that becomes the Toad River.  At about the half-way point, I met Betty for lunch at a small gravel turnout.  While eating we heard a loud crack, similar to a .22 rifle shot.  I knew instantly it was a blow-out on my bike which was just outside the door.  Later, I found that the side-wall of the front tire had blown out, so neither the tube nor the tire was re-usable.  My last mountain bike tube goes into a new tire.  Now, I have no spare new tubes for the mountain bike and none for the road bike either.  I do have a patched tube for each and several new tires for each.  Plus, as a back-up, I could always ride Betty’s hybrid bike; I have plenty of tires and tubes for it.  While repairing today’s blow-out, a small camper pulls up beside me and a slim, young guy gets out and offers to help.  With a heavy accent he said, “I know something about bicycles”.  I find that Roger is Swiss and mountain bike racer.  He and his young family have taken a year off to tour North America and ride mountain-bike trails where possible.

  Ok, on the road again.  Even though the highway follows the Toad River downstream, it is constantly up and down.  At the small community of “Toad River”, Betty has hooked up to an RV site and is nearly through with the last load of laundry.  This is the roadhouse with all the hats on the ceiling, now at 8,328 hats.  We stopped here for fuel on our way North.  It is a cool, quiet evening.

Chuck:

  About two hours after we turned in last evening, the carnival arrived.  We were dry camped at a Rest Area across from Liard Hot Springs and several trucks loaded with carnival rides and concessions became neighbors in our rest area.  It was the Canuk Amusement traveling troupe with ‘Tilt-a-Whirl’,  bumper cars, etc.  One tractor trailer had 6 doors on each side, entering small, bunk bed compartments .  There was a lot of gayety as they prepared for the evening.  Then, almost two hours later, more and louder gayety.  Seems they were returning from a walk to the hot springs to wash off the trail dust (the springs are about a five minute walk down a boardwalk and are free after 7 pm).   By 2 am all was quiet again.

  The morning was cool and calm, as in ‘No Wind”.  Great, the hills are steep and long and unending, but, no headwind.  We are in the Canadian Rockies or, as they call it here, the Northern Rocky Mountains.  A black bear about 50 feet off the road played hide & seek as I tried to get some pictures.  This area is beautiful, twisting and turning through valleys and along mountain streams.  Later, as I started the descent to Muncho Lake, about 20 Stone Mountain Sheep blocked the highway.  They like to lick the minerals of rocks and pavement and are well known to travelers in this area.  Got more photos.  Muncho Lake and the mountains surrounding it are spectacular.  I especially like the ride around the lake, it is flat.  As I count down the miles to complete the day, I see our RV about 3 miles before we had planned to stop.  Betty has parked in a Rest Area right on the lake shore with mountains on the far shore; picture perfect.  I never complain about stopping a mile or two early.  Over a cold drink, Betty tells me about Northern Rockies Lodge that is only a mile away.  Humm, there may be a plan here.  It is owned by a Swiss couple and is made of massive logs and has lots of wood carvings.  The dining room ceiling is three stories high and has a large stone fireplace with a fully interior stone chimney rising to through the vaulted ceiling.  The food was the best.  It was a Swiss menu, but it reminded us of the German meals we enjoyed years ago.  A “Happy Choice”.

Betty:  Upon leaving this morning, I immediately started into narrow, winding mountain roads.  Coming around one bend there was a mother black bear and three cubs.  They were this year’s cubs as they were quite small.  I couldn’t drive and get their picture, although I tried picking up the camera, aiming it out the window and just shooting – nothing good.

On one of the walls of the Northern Rockies Lodge dining room there is a hand-carved 14’ X 20’ map of part of Northern British Columbia.  It has illuminated red and/or green lights to show where the airplanes have flown for the day.  There were also 3D reliefs of the lodge and cabins that lodge owners have on other fly-in lakes.  It was fun to see where their float planes had flown for the day.  I’d love to come back to this area.  We love the water so always enjoy the beautiful lakes that we come across and sometimes wish we had our canoe or kayaks.

Chuck:

   Headwinds, Hills and Herds, that sums up the day.  With a constant headwind even the downhill runs were slow.  Shortly after we started, Betty drove back to tell me there was a herd of bison on the highway about a mile ahead and she would run “interference” for me.  It worked well, I rode alongside the RV and soon we had passed through the herd of about 40 big critters which were scattered on both sides of the road.  Betty went on to Liard Hot Springs which was to be our lunch stop.  I continued to have “buffalo encounters” while doing battle with winds and hills.  Three more times I had to stop and wait for a single bull buffalo to decide which side of the road he wanted.  Also, a herd of about 20 stopped traffic in both directions for a half-hour, crossing, re-crossing, milling and crossing yet again.  Somewhere between all these buffalo events, a black bear grazed at the side of the road, while I took his picture.

  I reached what was to be our lunch stop at 3:30 pm.  Betty was just leaving to look for me.  It was enough for one day.  A shower, a cold adult beverage, a walk down to the Hot Spring and dinner at the Liard River Lodge brought the day to a close.

After Thought:  You may not be able to “Roller-skate in a buffalo herd, but you can bike in one if you have a partner leading the way.”  Apologies to Roger Miller                                                                                   Also note:  A male buffalo can weigh 2,000 pounds, Betty’s RV weighs 35,000 pounds!

Betty:  As I was driving to the lunch spot and noticed the large herd of buffalo, looking quite territorial, I thought I’d better find a place to turn this big thing around and go back to “escort” Chuck.  Once we made it through that herd, I didn’t get to see the next herd or the bear. 

I’ve become more relaxed driving the RV.  I had a 9% grade yesterday and didn’t have any problem. 

This area is so pretty and all the little roadhouses are interesting.  The large towns (towns with at least a grocery store) are about 175 to 300 miles apart.  There are roadhouses in between.  They are usually a lodge that serves some meals, a small motel and sometimes a RV park.  They have a generator that provides their power.  They almost never have cell coverage, but occasionally will have their own wi-fi.

  A heavy fog covered the Liard River extending up to our parking area.  As the fog started to lift, we could see that some neighbors had moved in during the night.  Also during the night, my mountain bike’s rear tire went flat.  It was another tiny pin hole.  I remember yesterday a piece of an old tire about the size of a small cell phone had gotten lodged between the chain and the bike frame.  If that chunk had reinforcing wire in it, that could have been when my tire was punctured and the slow leak took all night for it to go flat.  Easy fix, throw away the old, put in the new.  On the road, it is quickly obvious that today will be a struggle; we have a headwind, maybe 15 mph.  The hills are bad enough and with the wind it makes for really slow going.  Betty waits for me along the Liard River overlooking the Cranberry Rapids.  It is a spectacular one mile run of swift water and continuously challenging rapids.  I hoped to see some kayakers shoot them or maybe a guide leading a group of rafters, not.

  Hills and headwinds continued through the afternoon.  I was really happy to see the RV parked a mile or two before I had expected.  This little settlement is at the confluence of the Liard and Coal Rivers.  They have a generator that apparently runs 24-7 to provide electricity.  Each parking space has 15 Amp electrical service.  I told Betty that Eddie (of Eddies’ Repair) wouldn’t run 15 Amp to a single circuit let alone to supply an RV site.  We had a chuckle and toasted the Eddies.

  Forty-seven years ago today, two naïve youngsters were married in a small church in Hinesville, Georgia, just outside Camp Stewart.  It was a tiny ceremony as late afternoon sunlight through stained glass windows created a surreal atmosphere.  A gazillion miles and 22 homes later they are still trying to make this work.

   Today, it was a late start. That woman never would leave me alone; that’s just one of the reasons I still love her.  We were on the road by nine and the miles zipped by, even though most of them were vertical.  Twice, I saw fresh moose tracks along the roadside.   At the little parking spot Betty picked for lunch there was an old buffalo chip just outside the door.  We again crossed into British Columbia.  In mid-afternoon, it was a race to get to our planned meeting site before black thunder storm clouds dump there bounty on us.  We just made it.  Betty picked a beautiful site, a Rest Area high above the Liard River.  It is called Allen’s Overlook because years ago a guy named Allen and his band of outlaws would watch this wide view of the river and descend upon riverboats.  There is also a small monument here in honor of the surveyors who, in 1942, laid out this wilderness road.

  Light rain in morning, had to dump tanks, late start.  Plan is to meet in Watson Lake to resupply.  We need groceries and I want to find some spare tubes for the road bike and some other repair items.  Plus we need diesel and propane for the RV.  It is a ‘far piece’ to the next town of any size.  Watson Lake is the little town with the “Sign Post Forest” which we visited on the way north.   It was here that Brendan had to be dragged out as he searched for signs referring to Notre Dame or other places he connected with; like Germany, Colorado, Florida Gulf Coast University, etc.  It is also the location of our least liked RV Park, the “Downtown RV Park”.  Actually, we have gotten a lot of laughs remembering how great it was to be squeezed in ‘slide out to slide out’ and, as Betty says “Treated as if we just fell off the turnip truck”, e.g. no Wi-Fi signal as advertised because our RV has insulation??

  We had lunch at “Kathy’s Kitchen” and met Ron Donlon (??) and his wife who live only about a mile from us, Willoughby Acres, in Naples.  They have been touring Alaska on a motorcycle, staying in motels and doing about a hundred or two miles a day.  Sounds nice, maybe next time.   All resupplied, except for propane and diesel, we had to check with several stations before we found one that had propane.  It was late so we agreed to meet at a rest area just ten miles south of town.  We have it all to ourselves and there is almost no road traffic.  Nice!  Betty pointed out that we have now become “3 digit metric midgets”, we have less than 1000 Kilometers to go.

Chuck:

  It was a cool morning and partly cloudy, good day for riding.  Betty met me for lunch at the entrance to Big Creek, a Yukon Provincial Park.  We had lots of hills in the morning and more in the afternoon.  Of course, there is always much higher terrain in all directions; mountains on all horizons.  It is amazing that this road, which is nearly 1400 miles long, was constructed in one year (1942).  As I climb steep inclines, I remind myself, that they selected a route that made road construction as easy as possible.  I am on the mountain bike again today because we expected a lot of gravel.  What we are finding is that the loose gravel we experienced last June has now mostly merged with a tar-like coating resulting in a rough surface.  Loose gravel is now mostly limited to the shoulders on both sides.  A mountain bike is still the best choice because the rough, rocky surface makes for a constantly jarring ride on a road bike.  My road bike has no shock absorbers and the mountain bike has two on the front and one on the back.  The smoother ride is easier on both bike and rider; worth the extra weight and slower speed.

  Two bike riders are coming over a hill in front of me.  I meet Pauline and Sean from southern British Columbia on their way to Anchorage then a cruise ship back to Vancouver.  Pauline had a sudden look of relief and a slight smile as she said the words “cruise ship”.  Like almost all the bikers we have met, they are probably in their 30’s or early 40’s.  I tell them that they can expect the rest of the trip to be “down hill” because it seemed to be uphill all the way for me.  Sean said I could expect the same???  We go our opposite ways and soon I reach the Baby Nugget Campground.  Betty is just about finished with several loads of laundry.  It is a very pleasant campground, nestled in a spruce forest.  We take a short walk and return for some wine & cheese.