The rains had cleared and there was some sun in the morning in Stewart. Gear was still clammy from the soaking rain the evening before.
The hotel clerk heard we were heading north for Watson Lake, and warned me the road had been washed out and closed due to heavy rain, and several guests had canceled their trip north as well as their room bookings in Stewart. She said to check on the net before heading that direction. I did but found nothing and then met a man and woman in the parking lot loading up their BMW G650GS/Sidecar rig and asked them about the road. He said they had just come down the day before after riding in heavy rains most of their trip in Alaska. He said the Cassiar was in bad shape and under much construction, including areas where the gravel was 4-5 inches deep. He said they didn't recommend the drive north nor heading into Alaska due to the weather.
The previous day I'd spoken with a lady at a gas station who ran an adventure travel business and she'd said she barely made it out of the Dempster before it was shut down due to flooding and washouts. She had also recommended not to go due to the weather.
Two more couples were asked and they both said the road was bad and we shouldn't try it on the bikes. I assumed it must have been epic destruction, though there wasn't mention on the net, and I began eyeing a southward route to Prince Rupert in case the rumors were true.
We decided to head back into Hyder for a bit more time in Alaska, especially if we were going to head back south that day. It had been some surprise the day before that there was no US border checkpoint, only the Canadian one.
We crossed into the derelict town and rode out to the bear viewing area, replete with a salmon infested stream filled with struggling, spawning and dying salmon. The smell of dead fish was in the air but there were no bears feeding that morning. The walkway with a wooden fence had a few folks waiting for bears and eyeing the salmon, but we didn't wait and rode further out along the river and mountains.
The sun was out and the mountains were shrouded in high mist, the river now no longer red from muddy torrents the evening before, its slate gray color looking like milk at times in the sunlight. Eventually we turned back, trying hard to burn the incredible beauty and scenery into our mind's eye for memories. It was very hard to take in and seemed almost surreal. We both agreed this area was by far the most amazing scenery yet and hope to return.
A final stop in Hyder brought some mild entertainment, Alaska-style, when an obnoxious tourist got a bit assy with the lady who owned the little souvenir and fudge shop. He said something to her I didn’t hear, but I did hear her tell him to "fuck off", then she burst out laughing as he left the shop. She ran over to me and said "you didn't hear that did you?" with a wink and laughed again, telling me she just didn't put up with “asshole tourists any more.” I agreed with her assessment of the man and told her I'd found him obnoxious myself. She then told me to tell the Canadian border guards she'd give them a pound of fudge each if they cavity searched the guy. We both laughed about it, but she said the guards loved her fudge so much they just might do it.
Kim had been in the Glacier Inn across the road and missed the event in the souvenir shop, but was rewarded with the sight of a black bear running across the street about 50 feet away. Above flew several eagles. Pretty cool.
Outside the shop I met more travelers telling us the Cassiar road north was bad. We’d had 100% of travelers telling us not to go and made it seem like the apocalypse lay to the north. Still, we made the decision to go for it - you only live once. Maybe the sun and blue skies lulled us, but the Cassiar Highway and the Yukon called.
Bizarre thing is we've had a lot of 3G and 4G in the most remote places in Canada but can't seem to get sh*t in towns when we need it...
As we passed back into Canada at the border crossing, we realized we hadn't gotten a pic at the Alaska sign and the guard graciously allowed us to back out of the portico and take the pictures. She sat and watched with a smile as we ran back and forth with the self timer and then waved us back up. She questioned us and checked passports, wishing us a safe journey.
Kim asked about the bulletproof vest she wore and if it was a requirement. She responded that the job was somewhat risky, especially since there was no US Border Patrol or any form of law enforcement in Hyder, and one never knew who was coming across. She said the US kept it hush-hush that Hyder was an open border and said that a "lot of folks who needed to hide" lived in Hyder.
The ride out in spotty sunshine was nice since it had been covered in rain clouds and fog the day before
At Meziadin Junction we stopped for gas and I mistakenly pulled in front of a waiting truck, the rig hidden by a flock of tourists streaming off a charter bus. After getting the bikes to the pumps and all our paraphernalia off, I saw the frustrated driver and waved an apology, pushing the bikes away and waiting for him to get filled up. As we finally got to gas up, a couple of the bus tourists came over. They were from Belgium and very friendly, asking all about the bikes and trip. The crowd grew, mostly enamored with Kim and her "adventure" bike, apparently rare to see. Before it was over the entire bus group was standing around and taking pictures. We truly enjoyed talking with them, the warmest and sweetest people we've met on the trip by far. They actually made the bus driver delay, just to watch us leave before they headed on for Stewart and some bear watching.
I didn't know what to expect as to the scenery on 37 North, since it seems most folks head for the Alcan Highway from Jasper, but we weren’t disappointed. The highway winds and snakes along the Coastal Mountains with beautiful views and glacier capped peaks. All around were beautiful trees beginning to turn yellow for fall, leaves dropping around us in the cool air.
We'd spent more time in Hyder and Stewart that morning than planned and got out later than expected so we made a short day of it and stopped at Bell 2 Lodge. Not being able to get much info about what is available on the Cassiar, Kim booked a room at what we thought would be a motel near Dease Lake but as we shot past the Bell 2 Lodge, I saw a motorcycle gassing up so we did a u-turn to ask him about the road ahead. His name was Mike, a fuel truck driver who ran the roads to the Yukon on his work route. He was on vacation, riding his motorcycle south to Hyder and then back north. He laughed about the roads and the rumors, saying that there was only some minor construction on the Cassiar, although the Dempster had been closed for a short period due to washouts. It was a relief to finally get some real info on road conditions.
As it turned out, it was a very good thing we stopped. Out of curiosity we checked with the front desk at the lodge, only to discover that Kim had actually booked the room at this lodge and not in Dease Lake. On the booking app, when searching a remote area we’ve found that often results come up from “nearby” areas and it’s easy to accidentally book something in the region rather than your destination - especially so the way the app changes parameters when you click back and more so on a spotty cell phone on the side of the road. It was a major relief to realize we’d have arrived at Dease Lake which lay 4 hours further ahead about dark, only to find no motel and our non-refundable payment for a hotel 4 hours behind us.
We had a very long conversation with Mike while sitting outside eating our late lunch, and he told us to call him when we came through Whitehorse on our way back south from Alaska. We said our goodbyes and went back to eating as he rode off, only to hear a loud crash. I jumped up to see him laying on his side in the gravel exit onto the blacktop road. We raced over to make sure he was okay and lifted his Kawasaki sport tourer off the ground. He was a very experienced rider but had tried to toss a cookie remnant to a bird just as he hit the gravel slope at an angle, his front wheel washing out just at the moment he let go of the bars with his left hand to make the toss.
Other than scratches on paint and a cracked mirror, it was mainly his pride that was hurt. He had been riding a very long time that day, having left Whitehorse early and he was a bit sleep deprived from several marathon days of riding.
We seemed to be a bit of an oddity or curiosity, as one by one we'd finish a conversation to find another person or couple anxious to talk to us. As much as we enjoy it, it was time to head for a room, sleep, and sadly no internet to upload the burden of keeping the ride report updated.
The next morning we hit the road for Watson Lake, again in sunshine and blue skies - this trip has been miraculous in that we've ridden in almost no rain. The distances yet to make are beginning to stretch, with far less communities along the way and much larger distances between them as we move further into the northern area.
The process of topping off anytime we see gas is beginning, to get in the groove for some stretches in Alaska and also for the fact that fuel stops are far less available. Folks keep telling us to get it when you see it as it is harder to find and sometimes stations are out of gas in the farther spots. We’ve also been told that since we’re late in the season, many of the more remote stations begin closing down for the long winter.
Along the way the trees had shades of yellow and gold, the cool temperatures telling us fall was in the air. The next week or two should be quite stunning as the colors start to change.
We rumbled into Jade City and stopped for a butt break and free coffee at the store. There were signs that “documentary filming” was in progress but there was no production crew around. Damn! Missed yet another chance to be a star.
Jade Mountain is more than just a tourist trap and gas stop, apparently being a working jade mine or quarry and it was interesting seeing how large rocks and boulders were sliced to reveal the jade.
In our travels north we leapfrog the same folks, seeing them here and there and this time was no different. An older couple from Vancouver Island pulled in in their camper and we had a good conversation with them, as we'd done a couple other places back on the road. They were going to hike an old abandoned pipeline right of way (can't remember the name) with another couple and were to meet them in a day. I really enjoy seeing older folks continuing to be adventurous and it gives me hope that when I'm old my death may come from falling off a cliff or something, rather than choking on a Cheetoh in my recliner watching TV. Anyways, Dave and Shan invited us to stay at their home on Vancouver Island when we headed back down there. It was really a nice surprise and we look forward to staying with them!
Another couple of guys traveling south in a camper suggested we take the road to Skagway. I checked the map and realized it wasn't far from Whitehorse so we added it to the plan.
The Cassiar Highway was beautiful and in good shape, with a few spots of construction. The skies threatened and rain clouds rolled in as we neared the Yukon border. As well there was a forest fire burning to the west and the road eventually got very dense with smoke as the rain came. Can't say I've ever ridden in forest fire smoke and rain simultaneously!
Putting on rain gear and a neckerchief over the mouth for the smoke ahead
When we hit the Yukon border the rains had stopped, the temps had dropped and we rode the bikes up the embankment to to sign for a selfie. The Alcan Highway came up soon after and it felt good to know we were getting closer to our goal.
Watson Lake was a few miles ride back to the east and offered a room for the night, a grocery store and a chance to dry off a bit. Kim has been fighting an ear canal infection for a couple of weeks that just won't quit and she was hurting badly, so rather than camp in the cold we got a room in an old motel. We’re on a tight budget and have stayed in more motels lately than the entire previous section of the trip, but ya gotta do what ya gotta do...