Alaska 2006: Day 9: Dawson City to Stewart Crossing, via Dempster Highway

Today was a bit interesting. I got up and going at a decent time, a little after 8. Saw Kathrin making tea, having some breakfast. Since I was about ready to leave, we chatted a little more. We confirmed that she will call Tamara if they can't get her tire repaired. That way I can buy a tire in Whitehorse and take it back to her. Not a big inconvenience to me, and works best for her, with limited options.

So I got packed and suited, put on my helmet, hoping I heard the ferry and I would catch it at the correct time. Motored out of the hostel, saw the ferry was on the other side of the river. So my mental picture was 180 degrees out of phase. Oh well. Unfortunately, it was just starting to rain. I dealt with it, rode the ferry, and stopped a few blocks away for gas. At that point, I changed into an odd combination: fully vented/mesh gloves. I then put the Triple Digit gloves over those. It worked well- the Triples are waterproof, so the underglove can be a thick, insulated winter glove, or my Helds, or whatever. I chose that combination because I thought the Triple Digits would breathe enough to keep my hands from getting all clammy. They did, for the most part.

Okay, off we go. Just outside of Dawson is the turnoff for Dempster. The road becomes gravel in less than a mile, and is gravel for the remaining 485 miles or so.

The trip in was interesting, but low-key. It was raining, so the roads weren't fun, and we were just under the cloud level (and in it, at times), so there wasn't as much to see. After a while, things started to open up. The roadside geology was fascinating (there will be a test, remember how this might affect the story later.), there were a few different forces at work- you have your immense river deltas, but from a prehistoric glacier. So it might be miles wide, hundreds of miles long. Basically tons of gravel. Now there is also a decent share of shale (yes, probably like shale oil). Shale is basically compressed sediment. It tends to break into something more similar to playing cards- weak bond in one direction, so they come loose and form flat, fairly thin, shapes.

Okay, on with it. The road was very smooth in 90% of places, which was amazing and helped me get good time. Right after the arctic circle crossing, some construction meant they were laying down calcium.

Now, this calcium is nasty stuff. Good in the dry, but I'm not sure it has a place, even Arizona, let alone in the Yukon. Still, I've been in wet mud, wet gravel, and wet calcium. A lot of the slippery wet stuff was "monkey poo" (technical term). None of it was like this calcium. I think this stuff was a proprietary mixture of camel spit, old slimy fish guts, and vaseline.

So there were about 30 miles of this stuff. It was endless- I started at about 12mph, then varied between 2mph and 30. If I was wrong, the bike would try to swap ends. It's interesting to fight that battle- somewhat like keeping a Goldwing going straight on freshly cleaned and watered ice. I had at least a dozen "moments" where the front tire would slide, the rear tire would step a long ways out, or both.

Eventually, I got through it. My average speed for that section was about 22mph. I got up about a half mile, then realized the handling was bad again. I didn't know why- inspected the front tire, then saw the back tire was totally flat. Egh. I'm 60 miles from 'town', which has gas, repairs, small motel, and restaurant.

At this point I'm parked on the shoulder. The shoulder of most of these roads drops off fairly quickly- the roads are built up on a crown of gravel, to insulate the ground- otherwise the road sinks into the permafrost. So I removed the luggage, gas tank, seat, everything, and try to put the bike on the centerstand. The ground is too soft, and I'm headed in the wrong direction (front end is pointed downhill, so the stand wants to collapse).

When I removed the gear, I noticed the CB antenna was missing, and the tank mount broke again, just on the one side. Both were victims of the rough roads. Not too surprising- imagine riding over continous speed bumps for 1400 miles.

After I do some thinking, and fail in an attempt to build a engineered pile of rocks, I realize it wasn't going to work. So I rode back onto the highway and put the bike on the centerstand, facing uphill.

Now that I could rotate the rear wheel, I looked for the puncture. I rotated the wheel three full rotations and couldn't find it. So I used the compressor to fill it a little, then listened for the leak. It was pretty easy to find- just inside a groove, against a block of tread. By the shape, I'm pretty sure it was a piece of the shale that did it.

I then grabbed the tire plugger, used the tools to insert the plug, and tried inflating. Argh, it was leaking pretty badly. I read the instructions again, and saw that I needed to pull out on the plug harder. Well, nothing to lose, right? I put some more air in the tire, so I could hear if I stopped the leak, then pulled out on the plug with a pair of pliers. That did it- the plug seated!

It took about 15 minutes for the compressor to completely fill the tire. The rear tire has so much volume, and I was at a bit of altitude. I cycled the compressor every few minutes to keep it from overheating.

While that was going on, I worked on strapping the cracked side of the aux fuel tank and putting everything away. I also snacked and thought about what I was going to do. I was a little paralyzed- I'm 60 miles from Ft. McPherson, 175 from Inuvik. It was about 5pm. Should I keep going north to Inuvik, stay one or two nights, and see if someone would fly the bike back to Dawson or Whitehorse? (considering how many things had gone wrong already, I thought it might be a good idea) Should I try to get to Ft. McPherson and decide in the morning what to do?

Finally I decided to turn around. The weather was supposed to be wetter the following day, so why risk having more of the slippery roads? Based on the GPS estimate, I figured I could get all but 60 miles of the Dempster behind me, and stop for the night at a government campground.

So I turned around, right back onto the slippery road. It was as bad as I remembered- proof my tire wasn't flat through that whole section. I slipped around, averaging about 20mph again. After that, I gassed up at Eagle Plains (only gas between Ft. McPherson and the junction), then started crusing back down again. The road was decent- I stopped for some photos, but mainly just dealt with the rain and mosquitos. The mosquitos would be in swarms, and your helmet would get completely covered. I was often glad for the rain- it made the roads more interesting, but would wash off the helmet without me needing to stop and clean it.

On the way up, I'd seen two guys on KLRs. I ran into them on the way back down, maybe 80 miles from the junction. I stopped and talked- we didn't exchange names, but talked about the bikes, where we'd been, where they were going, how fast the road was, and how scary the slippery stuff was. Glad it wasn't just me.

They were engineers in the Canadian army, the main fellow I was talking with was French Canadian, with a very thick accent. They were hoping to make it to Dawson City, so I told them about the hostel across the river. They had a flat or two on this road, which made me feel better in a way. They were also travelling with a set of spare rims, which would be nice, I guess.

My intent was to stop and make camp by 9pm. I realized I'd make it to the junction right at 9, and did. So I filled up on gas, and decided to head south, away from Dawson, and stop in the first campground I saw. I didn't want to backtrack the 25 miles to Dawson, knowing I'd just have to cover it again the next day.

Unfortunately, there was nothing in the direction I headed. I mean absolutely nothing, for 40 miles. A couple of small rest stops, basically wide places on the road with an outhouse. They weren't designed for camping, but RVers often would stay for the night there. I thought about it, but I'd rather be somewhere with a little protection from the bears. So I kept going.

I finally found this place (Moose Creek), pulled into an RV space, and set up my tent on the gravel RV pad. Not the softest, but I didn't see any tent spaces except for a few that involved hiking from the parking area- not what I wanted.

My plan tomorrow is to get to the hot springs outside Whitehorse. It's about 300 miles of fast paved highway, so very simple. I'd strongly considered going 700 miles to Laird Hot Springs, but I really need a simple day so I can relax, eat some restaurant meals, and catch up on things.