Trans Americas 2009 - The Blog

Jim seems to be getting up earlier and earlier, wonder if my snoring is disturbing him (though he did say he found it “like a lullaby” which will amuse anyone whose ever had the misfortune to hear me sleep after a skinfull...)... This morning he was up at 5am and out at 6.15, but I managed to snooze for a while longer before getting up and showered, then catching Tracy on MSN... In the early days of our relationship, MSN messenger was how we communicated, often for hours on end, when she still lived in Cambridge. In fact, we spoke on MSN many times before we even met. Now it seems a hollow way to communicate, and I missed seeing her face on my screen...

After a quick chat I had to go and get some breakfast, a rather weak continental affair (when I had high hopes of some eggs and bacon, what with the hotel having a gourmet chef on the books), then it was time to load the bike up and the first shock of the day, when I discovered frost on my seat. It was cold, and with a significant smoke haze still in the air didn't look like it was going to get warm any time soon...But there's a bike to be ridden and some roads to travel, so I switched on my MP3 player, picking up with Frank Sinatra and headed off South on the Alaska Highway towards Whitehorse, leaving the mountains barely visible in the distance...





It was bitterly cold, made worse by the wind-chill from riding along at a steady 65mph. I'd put my under-jacket on, but hadn't got any liners in my trousers, which are designed for hot climates with plenty of venting. My legs were freezing, but I put on my heated grips so at least my hands were warm and sang along to Frank to generate further heat... After an hour and a half's riding the first coffee stop appeared and I pulled into the car park just behind Nick, Nigel, Chris, Danielle, Aaron and Kenny, and went inside to warm up. Nick and I both went for some eggs on toast to accompany our coffee, and before they had arrived several others had turned up, transforming the peaceful cafe into a Trans-Am rider's convention. Sat quietly by the window was a group of 3 middle-aged women, one of whom engaged Chris in conversation (asking about where he was from due to his thick Scottish accent). She sounded for all the world like my mother-in-law (yes, you, Margaret!). I didn't catch where she was from, but I have to say it had me freaked at first!

Once back on the road again, I rode with Nick and Richard and Karen, although I didn't see much of them as no sooner had we left the cafe than we entered an area of denser smoke haze, which reduced visibility down to about 500 yards. Not to mention made my cough start again in anger. Now I could barely make out the trees at the roadside, never mind see any wildlife or mountains. We stopped for another coffee and a cinnamon bun (recommended by Globebusters – and it was good!), and then headed out into the smoke some more. Photo opportunities were therefore few and far between...





At one point we rode along the side of a huge lake, but we could only see about 10 feet from the shoreline. I bet it was really beautiful, too... At long last, though, we crossed into British Columbia and the smoke haze started to clear. I remained clear even when we returned to Yukon a few miles up the road (seems the Alaska Highway crossed the border and back again several times as it winds it's way along the side of the Peace River). Now the views opened up, revealing miles of forests and distant hills, with small lakes and rivers on either side of the road (and sometimes under it, as we crossed several bridges).





With James Blunt and Dido now giving way to AC/DC (well, I needed waking up after several hours of 'relaxing' music), I rode along alone again, having lost the others in the smoke. With the vast expanse of the Yukon starting to make its presence felt at last, leaving me feel like the wilderness-traveller of my dreams, time and the miles passed quickly, and I passed the Nugget City RV park and lodges that we're staying in tonight. This wasn't an oversight, though, as I wanted to take in the “Signpost Forest” at Watson Lake some 15 miles further up the road (which we won't be passing in the morning as we'll have turned off before then).

This is a bizarre place. A bit of history... The Alaska Highway was constructed during WWII shortly after the bombing of Pearl Harbour when there was a real threat to the West coast of mainland US, and the US government struck a deal with the Canadians that the road would be built and paid for by the US but any Canadian sections would be turned over to Canada after the war. During construction, the US Army Corps of Engineers erected mileposts along the route, listing places and distances to other cities in Canada, the US and around the world. One of these was erected at Wye, the corner of the Alaska Highway and Watson Lake Airport. Carl Lindley, a homesick soldier, added a sign pointing to his hometown of Danville, Illinois, when he was repairing the sign during a period of rehabilitation from a foot injury sustained when building the road. That started the tradition that has resulted in the mass of signs that make up “Signpost Forest”...





Wandering round the “forest” was a surreal experience, reading the inscriptions left by previous visitors. It was akin to walking round an old graveyard, reading the epitaphs. Each of these signs has been left by someone for whom it has a special meaning. Coupled with an almost reverential silence (a result of the enclosed nature) it was quite moving. Unfortunately I didn't have the necessary equipment to make a sign of my own, but I did find 2 that I think I can adopt. There in the following pictures – can you spot them?








A clue – it would have been perfect if they'd shared the same post...

With the mosquitoes once again out in force (my face is starting to resemble the surface of an angry moon), I curtailed my sign spotting and headed back up the road to the Nugget City, where I joined Jim in our “Honeymoon Cabin”, complete with 1 double bed and large jacuzzi bath... luckily there is also a fold-out sofa bed, and as Jim was there first, that's where I'll be sleeping (the rule of first in, best bed applying). I folded it out and sat on it to check my email, only to end up with my bum on the floor and my knees by my ears. Seems the springs holding the base to the frame are missing in the corners. Should be fun if I need to get up quickly in the night... Jim's daughter, Lilly, turned 11 today, so whilst he called her on Skype I went to take a bath, taking my book with me and planning a long soak. Only to discover there was a limited supply of hot water. Limited to covering the bottom 3 inches of the bath. So when I put the jacuzzi jets on, all I managed to do was send foam flying round the bathroom (foam party, anyone?). A quick splash later and I gave it up as a bad job and went in search of beer (well, I had ridden 402 miles today according to my over-optimistic speedo – more like 370).

At the lodge restaurant there was a fridge with 8 different Yukon-made beers in bottles. Yummy. I chose one and paid for it... $C 7.30 – about 4 pounds. For a small bottle containing around half a pint. So, won't be trying the others, then. Still, it made for a nice photo...





Dinner tonight is the weekly Globebuster's meal., so the entire team gathered in the restaurant for their pre-chosen selection (salmon or beef, with rib-eye steak an $8-extra option, or vegetarian for Max). I opted for the beef, because we had some smoked salmon yesterday that Aaron bought from the Santa shop at the North Pole (a small town just outside Fairbanks, complete with Santa RV park), which was simply the best salmon I've ever tasted (and got the same resounding thumbs-up from everyone else). Suspecting that the salmon here would not be a patch on that, the beef seemed the sensible option. It was OK, and served with very creamy mash and veg. Dessert was a choice of strawberry or vanilla ice-cream. Jim's attempt to get chocolate resulted in him having pink chocolate ice-cream that he said tasted vaguely of strawberrys.

The co-owner then gave us a short discourse on the history of the Yukon and her family's part in it. Apparently her parents were the first to discover Jade in the area, and had a gold mine further north before moving into British Columbia. She explained that in this area they only have 90 frost-free days, and that the snow here is so dry that it's impossible to make snowballs or snowmen with it, unless you add water (which only 15 years ago would have been difficult as this place didn't have any running water). There are only 33,000 people living in the Yukon, some 22,000 of which live in Whitehorse itself, the rest in small hamlets like this one. As the Yukon covers some 183,163 sq miles, that's an awful lot of uninhabited space. When her husband interrupted her for something, she retaliated with “ask him how many shots it took for him to get his moose”, before then regaling us with the story of how she shot an 1800lb bull moose through the heart from 400 yds. And I don't think she was exaggerating too much, either. But the phrase that I remember most was “There's no divorce in the Yukon..... we only have hunting accidents...”. Her husband doesn't go hunting with her, can't think why!

Then they brought out their mechanic, Roger, who is also responsible for all their carving on the door to the gift shop – and who lives here all year round, spending his winters carving things, including a beautiful musical jewellery box they proudly showed us. Despite ongoing arthritis (which he is having expensive medication for) he is planning some more carvings including some elaborate door surrounds for the restaurant. Worth coming back for...




When Roger was explaining his problems with arthritis, Gerald mentioned his double-hip replacement operation (as a way of showing how perseverance can result in you continuing to get most out of life), and then, when we were all done, Roger and Gerald were deep in conversation, though quite how either of them could understand the other (Roger with a thick Yukon-local accent, Gerald is from Devon...) is anyone's guess...





And with my dinner rattling around in my stomach (who said American portions are always too big?), it was off to the cabin to write up the blog before trying to get into bed without ending up on the floor...