Great day of riding.  Kind of a late start, which we’d planned because we knew we had a short day today, and we both needed it.  Been having pretty serious internet problems, but finally posting.

Twenty-five hundred miles from home,

Somehow I’m not alone.

Music and this moment are my companions

Whispering truths as we roll through the deep canyons.

Oh yea!  Poetry now!  Never tried that before.  I think I pulled a muscle in my brain that’s never been used before.  And yes, I know that Brad is also with me, but I’m not putting a dude in my poetry.

Brad checking out the large local beaver.

There’s only so far I’ll go for a friend.  Besides, I’m alone in my helmet all day.  Tomorrow, interpretive dance.  Maybe mime.

We left the pre-fabbed, insta-city oil boomtown of Grande Prairie and bee-lined for Dawson Creek – famous for being the zero-mile mark of the great Alaskan Highway.  This road that we’ll be rolling for four days is truly a remarkable feat of civil engineering stretching over 1,500 miles from Dawson Creek, British Columbia, to Fairbanks, Alaska (and we’re going to ride the entire thing, some of it twice).  Because of the threat of Japanese invasion in 1942, the highway was conceived to provide a land link with Alaska connecting a series of air bases in Canada.  A pioneer road was constructed in the remarkably quick time of nine months through some of the most remote and scenic country in North America.

The real ride begins. Ten minutes later, I went through this intersection right through the red light. Awesome start.

Remote doesn’t quite describe this land though. There were stretches today where we did not see a building for 50-100 miles, and we would often go 20 miles without seeing another car.  Incredible.  There is just nothing up here but wide, rolling views of forest and dark beauty and a long-stretching road.

Making friends during construction hold-ups. Meet Denise, the friendly stop sign lady.

And, the road is phenomenal.  Of course, we’ve only done about 300 miles of it so far, and we hear it gets worse, but for having only three months to work on it in some of the remotest land on the continent, I’m more than impressed.  There are some monstrous potholes you really need to watch for, but overall, it’s smooth sailing so far.  I did see a family of four living in one of the potholes it was so deep.  They waved.  Seemed real nice.

Our road for the day.

The riding was so great, and I have entered that travelling space that the “when are we going to get there” has been replaced by actually hoping for more miles.  Yesterday, I looked down at the map, and we were only 20 miles from our destination, and I was actually hoping for more.  Sick.

These flowers blanketed both sides of the road for miles at a time. Unreal.

Short post today.  Feeling great, but exhausted.

And of course, the route update.  The Yukon tomorrow.