Bike maintenance is not our favorite past time, but when the distances are so large, it seems every couple of days something significant needs to be taken care of. Case in point: engine oil. Ever since arriving on BC mainland from Haida Gwaii we have been feeding Alex’s bike a steady diet of fresh motor oil. And it has been eating it and asking for seconds. About 100-150 ml every day. That’s not normal for a Yamaha WR250R. Our bikes are nearly identical except for one crucial aspect – Alex’s has a 280 cc big bore cylinder installed. We already had issues with it in the past and had to service it, and it seems it’s just not a good match for long term travel. While cringing a little, we placed a large and painfully expensive Partzilla order, to be delivered to Anchorage. We’re going back to stock cylinder.
Upon leaving Whitehorse we had more open road than you can shake a stick at. More lakes, more forests, more mountains. The motto is: Yukon, larger than life. Can confirm.
We stopped by a picturesque lake for a short break, but otherwise proceeded straight to Dawson City, the final stop before crossing the border. We passed the Dempster Highway junction and decided that 2000 km there and back on a dusty gravel road was not exactly our idea of fun. Sure, it would have been a couple of degrees further north than we’ve ever been before, but that was never the point, and that particular side trip did not fit our intentions.
Dawson City was downright cute. The roads within the city were dirt, with elevated boardwalks for pedestrians. There were several legitimately good places to eat, which was so very appreciated. We enjoyed Greek food under the blazing 8 pm sun, and then headed for the Midnight Dome Viewpoint, a hill overlooking the entire city and the river valley.
We managed to find a somewhat secluded campsite on that hill. It didn’t have the signature views, but was more or less private. Or so we thought. Around 1 am – still light – someone blazed by on an ATV yelling “You can’t camp here!”. With that rude awakening we got up to check what’s going on. Didn’t seem like anyone was actually bothered by our presence, just locals having a hard time going to sleep with the midnight sun. They should go chop some wood instead.
In the morning we had breakfast in one of Dawson City’s hipster cafes. Had fun chatting with other patrons. One asked me why I selected the tire combo of Heidenau K60 Ranger on the front and the significantly more aggressive D606 on the rear. I had to admit that my selection process was extremely rigorous, namely, I picked the only front tire my size that was in stock in Whitehorse.
Another guy was visiting Dawson City because he was in Yukon for work and decided to check it out. Specifically, he drove his car from Montreal to Watson Lake for his work assignment (that’s over 5000 km right there), and figured, why not drive another 1000 km and see this famed frontier city for himself. When I travel such distances, I tell myself I’m on a proper adventure, for this guy it was just, oh, I was in the area.
To cross the Yukon river and continue west we had to use a barge. It’s a long standing pain point for the residents that there is still no bridge across the river. It’s inconvenient for those living on the east bank, but even worse for those on the west bank. There are no services west of the river and they have to cross it for everything from the mundane, like buying fuel and food, to serious, like medical care.
The next stage of the trip was a section of the road known as Top of the World Highway. The pavement disappeared, replaced with hard packed dirt. A bit of dust would appear whenever we met other vehicles on the road, but overall it was a fast easy road. It climbed up to about 1000 m above sea level, and continued for a while as a beautiful ridge road. The views were truly something special, vast forested mountain ranges sprawling on both sides of the road, seemingly below you. Now, I’m writing this from the comfort of an undisclosed future date, but at the time it was July – wildflower season in Yukon. At one point an entire mountain side in the distance appeared purple instead of the usual green. What a magical time to be here!
Eventually we crossed the invisible line separating Yukon from Alaska, and soon after, there was the border station and an official welcome sign. The road turned to pavement again, Alaska route 5, known as Taylor Highway. The first town we passed in Alaska was called Chicken, and Alex will never forgive me for refusing to turn off the main road and look at it up close.
Growing a little tired of the uncomplicated roads that make us go full throttle, we decided to ride up Taylor Mountain. It was a poorly maintained dirt road that climbed from 700 m to 1500 m in the course of about 10 km and ended with a 360º views of, well, Alaska. There was a radar installation and plenty of cool wind. If you squint, you could see the snow covered high altitude mountain peaks far in the distance. Going up we mostly focused on the mountain we were climbing, since it dominated our field of view. Going down we had sweeping vistas of the entire landscape below us, and even noticed a funky carved owl sitting near the track, observing traffic.
We got back onto the highway and continued moderately enjoying ourselves until Tetlin Junction, where our path rejoined the Alaska Highway. From here to Delta Junction the road did something incredible – it lost all the curves. From Northern BC, through Yukon, and up to this point the landscapes were large, open and magnificent, if a little repetitive. The roads were decidedly non-technical, but never quite straight. The Alaskan portion of Alaska Highway was for the majority of the way straight as an arrow and seemed really really long. It was the longest 200 km of the week, no competition. The amount of are-we-there-yet was breaking all previous records.
Delta Junction is listed as a “city” but it felt more like an oversized highway rest stop. We got Thai food for dinner, and decided to rent a cozy cabin for the night to get a break from the mosquitos. Topped up the oil in the troublesome bike, and enjoyed the ability to completely close the window shades and pretend it’s night out there.
