Next morning I pack up and head for Canada. British Columbia to be precise. I arrive at the border at Sumas, Washington around 10:30 a.m. Four to five minutes later I'm on my way down the Trans Canadian Highway 1 towards Hope, British Columbia. A much different scenario from what I was told by Jeff a few weeks ago. I was pleased.

Stopped at the Hope Visitors Center for an hour and inquired about the basics. Km/hr, verses Mph, current exchange rate, conditions of the roadway's, what are you doing for dinner tonight? No, just kidding. They answered all of my questions and provided me with a conversion chart. I thanked them and took some photos of the area before continuing North on the Trans Canadian Highway 1.

Fantastic views on Highway 1 as it continues North from Hope and up through the beginning of the Fraser Valley where the Fraser River runs. Deep ravines, a rapid river, enormous cliffs and two railroad companies running on each side of the river. Just beautiful scenery.

Stopped at Lytton, B.C. for lunch. Spoke to some locals there and picked up information on quickly converting Mph to KM/h. Continued on to Cache Creek and then North on Highway 97 to Lac La Hache, British Columbia. Found a campsite for the night along side a quiet lake and setup camp for the night.

Into Prince George and a stop at the local Harley dealer. Traded some Harley Goodies with them from back home. Purchased two T- Shirts, one had to be ordered, and headed West on Trans Canadian Highway 16. Found a KOA Campground at Burns Lake, British Columbia and called it a day.

Continued North on Highway 37, also know as the Cassiar Highway with a small detour to a place called Gitanyow. This town is noted for their creation of Totem poles. All of these Totem poles tell a story. After a short visit I'm back on the Cassiar Highway. Around four in the afternoon I stopped at Bell II for the night and have my choice of camp sites. My first encounter on this trip with flies and mosquitos. I've never seen so many flies! I didn't waste any time. Out with the 100% DEET and it was over. Pulled the mosquito net hat (a must have item on this trip) over my head and it was clear sailing after that.

Had a nice breakfast the next a.m and continued on up the Cassiar highway towards the Yukon. By the way, if you are a skier and looking for some real adventure, go to Bell II. This is where they offer Heliskiing. It's where they fly you via a helicopter to the top of a mountain and you ski or snow board your way back.

As I continued up the Cassiar and taking in this fantastic scenery, I came upon some road construction. Forty miles of hard packed dirt and gravel wasn't too bad. But that eighteen miles of heavy duty construction, of which 12 miles was escorted, actually five but it felt like twelve, was a bit hairy. This is where the wet dirt road I had heard about came into play. Freshly turned soil that was wetted down. Little did I know then that this was the training session for what was to come later on the Dalton Highway in Alaska. Made it through Ok and kept on riding.

Finally, after three and a half days in British Columbia, I make it to the Yukon Territory. Whew! That was one big province I rode through.

Rode on for another three miles and arrived at the Alcan Highway. This spot is known as Junction 37. Filled up with gas and headed West until it was time to stop. Found a place called Rancheria RV park and called it a day. Here is where I met Colin and Bernadette from Great Britain. A nice elderly couple, but healthy and flexible as a couple of teenagers. They had ridden their bicycles from Anchorage, to Fairbanks, and from Fairbanks, Alaska to here since July 1st. Now that didn't seem to far until I myself rode to from here to Anchorage on the motorcycle. Now that was a feat. Fourteen Days? God Bless em!

Next morning I head West towards Whitehorse. Still taking in fantastic scenery along the way. Very few stops along the way. Very remote out here. Found a campground and had time to do laundry. Picked up a T-Shirt at a local Harley Dealer outlet. Even found High Speed Internet access too, or so I thought. I thought my dial-up was slow. When I question someone in charge regarding the speed I was told, and I quote, "With the room being as hot as it is, we're lucky to have the computers up and running". I read five e-mails and left. The room was too hot and the PC's too slow for me, so I left. Had dinner at a local restaurant. Took some pictures of the camp site at 10:00 p.m. and hit the sack. I need to force myself to start sleeping between ten and eleven each night. The dark nights are beginning to disappear with daylight remaining. I'm getting close to the land of the "Midnight Sun".

Now let me take a minute here and explain why this ride through British Columbia and the Yukon is taking so long. A road hazard I have encountered on this trip but was not aware of is the "Rolling Road". Now Picture this. You're cruising down the highway around 70 -75 mph, paying attention, site seeing actually, and watching for road hazards when Bam! what the *&%#@$ was that? You just bottomed out. Bam! *&%#@$, and again you bottomed out. Now in a vehicle that might not seem so bad but on a bike with a short wheelbase and stock suspension, well let's just say it isn't very pleasant. As I stated earlier I was paying attention and watching out for these road hazards, but these rolling dips, well you just can't spot them in advance no matter how hard you try. No flags either. So you slow down to fifty five. Now when you come up on these rolling dips it's a nice up a down kind of ride. Problem is you can't maintain a constant speed as you would on the highways back in the states. I was averaging two hundred and fifty miles a day.

Stopped for gas at Destruction Bay. A strange name for a gas stop. I need to research and find out why such an unusual name for a town. While I'm gassing up the bike I run into a couple of guys on motorcycles. Kevin from La Crosse, Wisconsin and Mike from Hawaii. Kevin was riding a BMW, RS-1100 and Mike was riding a Yamaha. I don't remember what model. We talked and then had lunch together, swapped a few tales and then we were back on the road. From there we continued to the border. Or I should say they rode ahead to the Border. Kevin and Mike, well these guys live for these type of roads. They have superior suspensions and clearance for the type of road we were traveling on. So they just kept cruising at eighty mph. Me, well I cruised a little slower.

We meet up again at rest area down the highway. Mike was having chain problems. Apparently who ever had replaced his rear tire back east had broken the oiler tube for his chain and failed to mention that. He made some adjustments, oiled up the chain and they were once again cruising at eighty.

Alaska! I finally made it!

At the Alaska border we meet up again and take a few pictures. It's here I met Alex Samson, another biker from Los Angeles, California on a Honda. (I had a link to Alex's web site but it's no longer active). Alex is from Manila, Philippines and Los Angeles, California. He maintains a residence in each location. We talked for a while and then we all head out for US border. I meet Kevin and Mike again for the last time at Tok. Kevin decides to stay at the campground while Mike continues on to Fairbanks. You see Mike was in his early twenties and Kevin and I are in our fifties. We needed to slow down a little, Mike on the other hand, well, he'll learn one of these years. Good luck Mike. We set up camp and lo and behold run into Alex again. He decided to stay here too.

At the campground we met a couple of other bikers on BMW's. Don and Mike. Don was from California and Mike was from Alaska. They were headed to California. Mike said he had enough of the six months of darkness and wanted to have the consistency of daylight and darkness during the winter weeks and months.

A slight over site on my part almost caused a catastrophe on the way to Valdez. Now I'm usually pretty good at checking everything before I head on down the road. But today, well it was just a nice sunny day. I had breakfast at a nice restaurant, read the local paper, three days old, and off I went. Riding down the highway, singing enjoying the scenery for the next 45 miles. Then I happen to look down at my gas supply and realize, I'm almost on empty. What! Now how did this happen? I wasn't paying attention that's how. Ok now what. I'm at the point of no return. Move on and don't look back. What's done is done. I'm not going to make it to Glennallen, but I'll get as close as possible before I run out of gas in rural Alaska. So that's what I do, I ride on. Later, actually sooner, I switch over to reserve, still enjoying the scenery, still singing, shutting the engine off and coasting down the hills when I can. Twenty, thirty minutes later, I wasn't counting. I round a curve and low and behold, a little old two pump station. Is this a great country or what! I arrived in a little town called Mentasta, located along the Glennallen Highway. Come to find out this was an area where the Denali Fault slipped in 2002 and caused an earthquake. Great photos! Had a big old crack across the parking lot about ten feet from where I was pumping gas. There was also a gapping hole or crack about forty feet long, right down the middle of the highway in front of the station towards the lake. Glad I wasn't around when that happened. Both the bike and me would have wound up in it. Finished gassing up with regular. Hey that's all they had, and when you are in serious need you take what you can. I continued down the highway to Glennallen with a full tank of gas. Still singing and still enjoying the fantastic scenery.

Gassed up at Glennallen again. Premium this time. No way was I making the same mistake twice, not out here in the wilds. Along the way to Valdez, I stopped at an Alaskan Pipeline viewing point and took some photos of this behemoth. Back on the highway as I rounded a curve I came upon a spectacular site. The Worthington Glacier! I took pictures and checked it out. Pretty cool, literally. Back on the road after a short stop there and down to Valdez. Wasn't allowed to ride to the port for security reasons. So I stopped took pictures of the tanks, and turned around and rode to an outlet to watch salmon trying to get to a river that didn't exist. Let me take a moment here to explain that comment.

The local power company was diverting a river running off the side of a mountain through two large pipes to generate a small power plant. After the water passed through the turbines it was deposited into a small pool on the side of the plant. This pool of water was approximately seventy five feet in diameter and ten feet above sea level. The water from the pool then traveled across the road under a bridge and into the bay two hundred and fifty feet away. The amount of water running into the bay generated enough noise to let the fish think this was a river emptying into the bay. The power company created a fish dam to let the water into the bay but keep the fish out. The pool of water wasn't that large and wouldn't accommodate the thousands of salmon that were trying to travel into the pool. And there were thousands of them. Even watched some sea lions swimming around the fish. I guess they eat fish, I don't know.