The way home -- Anchorage to Watson Lake, YT

The trip home has a different feeling from the one coming up. I’ve been on the road for over a month, and I’ve put more than 8,000 miles on the beemer. It definitely feels like it’s time to be heading back, and the distances to be covered are a bit daunting. Without breaks for visiting with friends, this part of the trip has the feel of a long haul, and the main goal is to do it quickly and safely, taking large gulps of distance rather than small sips. In my first two days out of Anchorage, I’ve covered nearly 1,000 miles – much of it in rainy and cold weather. And some of the road construction that led to interesting experiences on the way up are mainly a pain in the ass when I’m trying to make time in the opposite direction.

I’m eschewing picture taking, for the most part, in the interest of keeping the mileage up, and also because the weather conditions aren’t very cooperative. I’ve included a few shots, but you can see the low clouds. What you can’t feel, however, is the chill – the temperatures are often in the high 40s and low 50s, and the rain adds a further chill. My rain gear is doing its job properly, as is the electric liner for my jacket, so I’m often fairly toasty as I zip along at 65 or 70. I wish I had a better system for my hands, though – my deerskin gloves with silk liners aren’t waterproof, and the Aerostich “lobster claw” overmitts are a pain to put on and take off – and they don’t give me as much control as gloves alone do. Even with the heated bike grips, without the lobster claws my hands get cold. This is an area that needs improvement.

There are several sections of roads that deserve comment. For about 40 miles on either side of the Alaskan border – from about Tok in the north to Burwash Landing in Yukon Territory, the roads are being rebuilt, and the conditions are awful – especially when it is raining. Even where the road isn’t gravel and mud, the numerous frost heaves mean that you have to pay very close attention, particularly when you’re riding at speed. Some of the RVs have been wallowing around like fishing boats in rough seas. Last night, around 10:00 p.m., in a driving rain, on one of these sections, a bull moose stepped into the road. I slowed way down, we regarded each other, he crossed and then crashed through the brush on the other side, and I continued. Today my “animal adventure” was a very large brown bear. I had been forewarned by an RV that flashed its lights at me, and saw another RV and a pickup pulled over. I went through slowly, looking at the bear. I don’t feel quite as protected as those in cars and trucks. I think the bear would at least need a can-opener to get at the contents, whereas I felt a bit more like a crudite on a plate.

Tonight I’m at the Airport Bed and Breakfast near the tiny airport in Watson Lake. This is a town that is having trouble surviving. The woman who runs the B & B just got a job as the community development officer in town, and we talked for a while about what development means up here. There simply isn’t much that Watson Lake can use to attract tourists – other, nearby places have much more in the way of physical beauty (glaciers, salmon streams, etc.), all of which are lacking in Watson Lake. As the southernmost town in Yukon Territory they may have to settle for becoming a waste transfer station for garbage collected in the rest of Yukon Territory. Not very glamorous, but jobs are jobs. Meanwhile, two of the three hotels in town are closed, and the whole place seems tired and worn out.

Tomorrow – on to Dawson Creek, Fort Nelson, and points south (and east).