Days 44 and 45 (June 27 & 28). Dempster Highway, Part 4 (of 4)

From: Eagle Plains, YT

To: Dawson, YT

Miles (2 days): 257

Total miles: 9927

On Saturday, June 27, I was a little late getting out of bed.  When I went to breakfast I ran into two of the people from my Tuk trip, and we chatted for another hour or so.  When I finally left, around 10:30, the sky was heavily overcast and threatening rain.  Well, I have ridden in the rain a lot, even over the Dempster, and it’s not too bad; you just have to go slower. 

It ended up raining harder than it had on previous occasions, and the road quickly became very difficult.  About fifty miles out, I ended up in a spot that was essentially a soupy mixture of sand and clay; the cycle was skidding all over the place.  Even at ten mph, even at 5 mph, control was proving to be very difficult.  As Clint Eastwood said in one of his Dirty Harry movies, “A Man’s Got to Know his Limitations.”  I really had no choice but to admit that I was not a good enough motorcycle rider to continue.  Further, the sky looked like it was going to rain all day (which it did). I pulled off onto the next available pullout, parked the cycle, grabbed one of my two bags, and headed back to the road to hitch a ride back to Eagle Plains. (It was 50 miles back or 180 miles forward.)

Wet Dempster; significantly beyond my skill level.

The next vehicle heading in the right direction showed up about 45 minutes later.  He stopped, as I was certain he would; this is what people do in these remote places.  It was a trucker hauling roofing supplies to Inuvik, and he was already carrying two other people who needed a lift.  His only concern was that I not get mud the inside of his truck; of course he would give me a lift. He drove slowly and carefully, and we had a pleasant chat, and an hour and a half later I was back where I started the day.  It was about 2 or 3 in the afternoon.  Yes, they had a room.  The satellite TV was out because of the rain (low elevation angle).  There was no cell phone service.  There was no way to actually make a telephone call to the outside world except through the one pay phone. The WiFi only worked in the lobby, and was connected to the outside world by some 50-year-old microwave towers that were sized for telephone traffic. Dinner would start serving in a few hours.  The rain continued.  On the whole, I was very glad to be there, and not looking forward to leaving in the morning if it was still raining.

Around 9 pm, another motorcyclist pulled in and asked for a meal.  The restaurant was closed, but they rustled him up soup and a sandwich, and he ate it in the bar (the one relatively colorful place in Eagle Plains).  I had to talk to him; how had he actually made it through this mess?  First, Daryl told me, he came from the other direction, and second, he went really slowly.  Still, he had tons off-road riding experience, and had even taken a two-day course once.  I asked him for some tips, and told him my less-than-manly story of leaving my cycle out on the road to fend for itself.  About that time another guy, a vet named John, sat down and joined us.  He too was coming back from Inuvik, and loved riding motorcycles, but had to give it up after an accident in which he had broken his neck (!).  He used a cane and walked slowly, but otherwise got around. In the end, John offered me a ride back to my cycle in the morning, and Daryl said he would ride along and help me get through trouble.  I couldn’t say no to this, even though it continued to rain all night and was still raining in the morning when we departed at around 8 am.

The bike was fine when we got there, and started right up.  We bid farewell to John (who continued on to Dawson at a slightly faster clip than we did), and Daryl and I set off through some of the worst slop he said he had ever seen.   After we made it through the most difficult 15-mile stretch, he told me that if he had run into these road conditions last night he would have just pulled off and pitched his tent; it was that bad.  (I don’t know if he meant that, but it made me feel good.)  Amazingly, as we got to a better road surface, it also stopped raining.  Further, the rain had apparently knocked the smoke out of the sky, and we got some great views of Yukon Territory.  With the crisis over, John wanted to spend some time fishing. We were both solo riders anyway, so we shook hands and I pushed on.  There were some afternoon thundershowers, and stretches of gravel and wet roads, but nothing like what had stopped me yesterday.  I pulled into Dawson around 6:30 pm, so incredibly relieved to be back on asphalt.

John (left) and Darrel (right); True Friends in Need.

To summarize the last six days:  Am I glad I rode the entire 450-mile Dempster Highway, both ways, on a motorcycle? Yes, absolutely.  It is clearly the centerpiece of the entire three-month journey.  Would I consider riding it again, perhaps when the road extension to Tuk is complete?  Not for a million dollars.  

Coming into Dawson for the second time, post-Dempster, felt quite different than the first time, which was only a few days ago.  In a way, I did feel like I had been out in barely-charted territory seeking some reward (pictures and souvenirs, admittedly, not gold).  I did feel a bit like I was returning to civilization; not to beds and beer, which had been available Up North, but things like cell phone service, roads my cycle was designed to operate on, and the choice of more than two directions to go.  As I write this, I do have a little of the sense that “I’m Back.”  It’s kind of cool.

A few words on Eagle Plains. First, it is not on a plain; it is up on a ridge.  Second, like Inuvik, it was a created entity. Unlike Inuvik, it was entirely the work of one man, a Mr. George McNevin of Saskatoon, Saskatchewan.  He is the guy who built the entire “oasis,” including the water pumps and electrical generators, dozens of years ago.  He owns everything, and he pays the eight people who live there all year round.  (There are three more who live there in the summer).  He did work with the Canadian Government on the survey side; the base had to be about halfway between Dawson and Inuvik.  It is functional, utilitarian, and basic, with the sole exception of the lounge (bar).  Eagle Plains’ motto is “An Oasis in the Wilderness,” but after having spent three nights there, I don’t think this really captures the essence of the place.  I think I would go for “A Sanctuary Along the Dempster.”  That’s what it was for me, anyway. 

Finally, a few words on how the Honda NT700VA held up to the Dempster, and the other unpaved roads that I am almost now done with.  With the knobby tires, I think it did very well, essentially as well as “Adventure” or “Dual Sport” bikes that I shared the road with. The big gas tank was great, and the totally-sealed shaft drive precluded all concerns about the damage the shale-based road surface would do to a chain drive.  I will add that my NT700 was the only “Street Bike” I saw on the Dempster.  The only one. I’m proud to own it.

Finally back at the south end of the Dempster.  We Survived!