The Klondike Highway to White Horse (Canada)

Kms 1387

The Klondike highway follows more or less the 'gold rush trail' to Dawson city. The route 40.000 dreamers took at the end of the 19th century in search of that precious stone. It was a epic journey due to the severe weather, the conditions of the trails and the rapids of the river Yukon.
The asphalt has covered the foot prints of the miners long ago and there is not much that reminds you of that glorious past. Apart from the interpretive centers doted along the way, and the transformed landscape especially around Dawson city where one can see the man made hills of broken rock made by the machinery.

The 562kms I've made from Dawson city to Whitehorse where very easy compared with the dempster highway. The Klondike highway apart from small stretches of gravel road is in good conditions, crossing the small rolling hills of the Yukon plateau.
I’ve took the chance of the relatively good conditions to increase the daily average to 93.5kms. Not only due to the road conditions but also due to the monotony of the landscape, that didn't invite to make too many stops. Also the climatic window is closing. The daily temperatures are very pleasant for cycling, with maximums of 20 degrees, but the nights are cooler with the thermometer going down to 5 degrees.
The summer is ending.
And I'm not prepared to face the rigor of the Canadian winter.
Beaver creek, not too far from here, registered in the 70's the lowest temperature of North America. An astounding -63 degrees.
On this part of the Klondike highway the landscape may seem monotonous but camping on one of its many lakes or rivers and the nature comes alive. Reminder that I'm not cycling alone.

I pitch my tent by Gravel Lake. Some beavers are busy bulding their houses, networks of pieces of wood that change landscapes. The beavers are the engineers of the animal kingdom. One single beaver can cut up to 200 trees in a year. That justifies the Canadian saying: "busy as a beaver".
Some ducks and other waterfowls land in the water to spend the night.
I turn on my short waves radio and listen to the weather forecast for tomorrow. Pump the gasoline bottle and set up the stove. As I cook dinner I observe the lake full of live and its surroundings at the sunset.
And there I am. Alone, me and the nature.
I'm starting to feel more at ease to camp in the wild. I’m starting to identify some of the nocturnal noises and sleep well at night without wake up with the lightest noise of the nature thinking that it’s a bear, like I used to do in the beginning of this trip.
In fact in this part of the world is more dangerous to a bear then to be a human.
On the following morning I zipped open my tent. The first rays of the sun warm up the chilly morning. Just in front of me are 2 white wild cisnes with black beak.
I transport myself in time and see myself waking up in the room of my flat back in London, with a hangover of the many cigarettes and glasses of wine of the previous night. And I'm late to work, again!
Where’s the reality? Here or there?
I prepare a bowl of cereals a few sandwiches of butter nut crème(highly energetic) and a cup of coffee. Pack everything up and dismount my tent. A process that takes me one and half hour every morning. and I continue my journey.
I feel stronger then ever. I almost can fell my muscles growing.
Each day with more motivation then the other, to reach south and Tierra del fuego.

But for now, I’ve arrived just at Whitehorse, capital of the northern province of the Yukon.
This province 5 times bigger then Portugal has just 32000 inhabitants and 23000 live in the capital.
That is 6 caribou per inhabitant or a grizzly bear per family of 5. In the Yukon, nature reigns. is the queen of the attractions.
Whitehorse is not only the capital, but also the frontier town to the north. The border between the wildness of the north and the somehow controlled landscape of the south. In here finishes the greyhound bus network .The national emergencies services 911, and the good reception of radio and mobile phones. Not even the corporations like Mc Donald’s and Pizza Hut venture further north.
I will stay in Whitehorse for another couple of days. Ahead of me is the infamous Alaska Highway that will take me to Watson Lake. From there is another 1000kms before I reach Prince Rupert,trough the cassiar Highway.
Of course the route may change. But the itinerary is easy:
Always south until there is no more roads...

Nuno Brilhante Pedrosa, in Whitehorse, Canada

Dempster Highway (Canada)

Day 13
Km 825

Dust,dust,dust....
The Dempester highway or the dust highway or even better the mosquito highway as I prefer to call it travesses the vast wilderness of the Canadian artic.It was probably not the best place to start this adventure trough the pan American highway by bicycle.
It was not easy.825 Kms in 10 days without a days rest. distances between places are enormous.One stretch alone was 369 Kms without a place to by food. I had to carry enough food with me for 6 days.

82 Kms on average a day is too much for this beautiful part of Canada,too quick to enjoy in full the nature and the landscape..2 weeks it would be ideal.
the first 150Kms from Inuvik until the Mackenzie river are the less interesting part of the trip,the dempster cutted trough the artic plains near the Mackenzie delta,the 3rd biggest in the American continent after the Amazon and the Mississippi and the 10th biggest in the world.
Apart from the migrating birds (they came as far as Africa to nest here) and the zillion of mosquitoes, there was little animal life to be seen.
dust made by the lorries could be seen from miles away and it was a good way to see wish turn the road was going to make.
On the first day I've done only 40 Kms ,enough to warm up the muscles and test the strengh of the bike.

On the second day I've camped where the Mackenzie and the red artic river meets ,crossed the ferry late that day and camped by the river with the view to the settlement of tsiigchtchik nested on the top of the hill,with it's 160 inhabitants almost all of them aborigenas gwichi'in.
Gwichi'in means the "people of the flats",residents of this comunity still rely on hunting, fishing and trapping for food and income.They are organized under political bodies that includes bands created under the Indian act and the gwichi'in tribal council.
From the settlement on(no grocery to buy food,there was one but closed some time ago),the dempster highway didn't stop to surprise, with a constant change of lanscape every 40/50 Kms.The landscape went from artic tundra with caribou on the horizont to rolling hills,to naked rock mountains,valleys,lakes,rivers....
Nature at it's best with no trace of man apart from the gravel road.

The next stop was Fort Mc Pherson the only settlement in 750Kms of the highway with grocery stores.Arrived late that day with the sun set.And with everything closed,camped just at the entrance of the village near a small lake.
I got in to the habit of riding till late in the days as they are very long at this time of the year.It was beautifuly strange to see the sun go down at 1.30 AM so slowly that the late night and the early morning almost blended in a magical way.
Next morning I went to the settlement and packed up with groceries enough for 6 days,kicked the"mule" and trotted away on the dusty gravel road.
I was so loaded that the lose gravel made me loose the equilibrium and went on the floor a couple of times.
That day the traffic intensified from one pick up every 2/3 hours to one every 30/40 minutes,as I was approaching the midway lake.
Midway lake was the area chosen for the annual festival music of the NWT.It was Friday and all the preps where well under way,the "first nation people",setting up tents fire places and cabins to rent out to tourists. there was a central stage and the all cenario seemed a bit surreal in the point of view of the location:in the middle of nowhere.

The Kms that followed where the toughest of the trip,the dempster highway went up and over and down and up and over again the rolling hills some with 12% inclination,and there was the rain, and with it the mud that made it almost impossible to ride at times.That day it was up and down all day, and each time I've stopped to clean my sweat away, there where my mosquito friends,travel companions.Zillions of them.There are 40 different especimes in the Canadian artic alone.
I thought I would prefer to run out of food then to run out of insect repellent..
I even dedicated songs to them,to entertain myself in the vain hope that my tremule and grave voice would scare them away..

It was on top of one of those hills that I arrived at the sign that marked the artic circle,immediately I forgot about the mosquito's and contemplated the surroundings almost in reverence.I have been dreaming to reach this place for quite some time.I've censed the isolation and the misticy of the place.An enourmous happiness took over me, giving me the energy to cycle the last few hills until Eagle Plains.
Eagle Plains was the second place to by food, I thought,but it was no more then a lodge with 8 inhabitantes, a garage, petrol station, motel , restaurant ,but no groceries.I had lunch at the restaurant and negociated with the chef to sell me some fresh vegetables,eggs ,bread,milk and a piece of meat(at a price!).
From this part of the dempster highway one could observe a lot of wild life,caribous,migrating birds,foxes, eagles,falcons and of course:bears.
I've been waiting for this encounter for quite some time.And, there they where,right in front of me.2 small bears playing on the side of the dusty road,and not far in the tundra the mother bear.

I was there for more then an hour observing them and also waiting for an opoturnity to pass. The wind was blowing from east to west,that was,from me to the mother.I found it prudent to wait for the kids to leave the road until a save distance.
My heart was pumping with excitement and joy but also with fear.I had taken off the security cap from the bear spray offered to me by another cyclist in Inuvik,( http://www.rideon2006.blogspot.com ) the spray was never more then an arm away during the all trip,when 2 young gwichin natives passed by on their pick up.When they saw the bears,they stop and reversed until they reached me.
They offered me a lift saying that it was too dangerous to be there on the bike.
-the cubs are very curious and will came to you soon or later one of the youngsters said.
-And you don't want to see a mother bear pissed off,man!.Not even the bear spray you have will do anything.
I was not sure in how much danger I was,but seeing the 2 folks determination of not leaving me there alone,I've decided to ride along the truck complying with my promise that I will do the all pan-American on bycicle as long it permits it.
Suddenly one of the small bears heads towards me ,we put the bike on the pick up and drove away leaving beyond a cloud of dust.

They left me a mile after that. I said goodbye, thanks them and continued my journey.
The Dempester highway started it's slow climb to the Oligivie mountains until it reached it's pass at 1289 meters,the north fork pass.The first of the continental divide.Is not much compared with what's awaiting for me further south, but the latitude can make the temperatures drop dramatically. The pass was 8 degrees compared with 26 in the plains.
From the pass to the end of the Dempster highway its 82 Kms of a very smooth downhill. Stopped a the newly created tombstone territorial park for the night(cyclists don't pay) and next morning headed towards Dawson city making 116Kms in 7 hours,40 of them in alsfalt.
Oh...asfalt....it was like putting the bicycle on a magic carpet!
Dawson city is a strange place. Looks like it was taken from a western movie set.
The gold rush brought the miners here. In the beginning of the last century it was the second biggest city in the west coast only surpassed by San Francisco.
With the gold rush over the city was lost in time until the descendents of the miners found a new gold:the tourists on theirs RV roaming the first street like caribou.
Still the town has a very spaced out and relaxed atmosphere.
To me it's also a place to rest my legs take the mud of my panniers tide up my staff and relax.
The dempster highway was a true test on this trip.I'm sure it will stay as the toughest part of the trip for a while........
for now,I'm going to panning a bit of sand to see if I found any brilliant stone...

Nuno Brilhante Pedrosa
in Dawson City