Inuvik

8 days of fog, rain, clouds, winds, mud and here we are.  The total damage for the 8 days included a chain, a few tires and 7 derailleurs and/or hangers (5 in one 500 meter stretch of mud).  Left people riding cobbled up single speeds or sitting in the truck (others sitting in the truck from exhaustion).  The lucky ones were able to repair, to some extent, their equipment, though the mud left most of us with less than a full complement of gears.

We learned that the far north - even when not in bug season - has lots of mosquitos and black flies.  And, trees, lots and lots of trees except that when you get really far north and more than a few meters above sea level, there aren't any more trees.  I'd heard that the Taiga or Boreal forest was extensive - now I believe it.  We rode for days and days, and depending on altitude were in boreal forest (mostly spruce and tamarack) or tundra (no trees at all).  Crossed a few really dramatic mountain ranges.  Looked for bears - but saw only a few paw prints and poops.  Saw some loons and arctic swans, and got to listen to the call of the loons.

Crossed the second biggest river in North America (the Mackenzie) on a little ferry - and now are at the edge of the Mackenzie delta - the size of Massachusetts.

Saw lots of bogs and big "slumps" - from melting permafrost.

Interesting geology contrast:  we traveled through areas that had been covered by continental glaciers - so everything was rounded off.   Areas at the edge of the continental glaciers - so very large glaciated mountain cirques and valleys well as lots of glacial moraines and debris in the less mountainous areas.  And areas (Beringea) that were not glaciated - and part of the land bridge to Siberia - so hills and small mountains that were made of frost shattered rock (mostly limestone).  Beringea had apparently been mostly wide plains, relatively flat, lots of grass but few trees and grazing animals - including the mammoths.

Mostly, just rode through the land and saw that it was big.  Very, very big, with lots of trees, lots and lots of trees.  And rocks.  And mud.  And we looked for bears.  And looked, and looked.  And we heard that there had been one up the road ahead, or back behind us, or that someone or other had seen one.  The bears appear to be wise enough to understand that when bear meets human,  bear always looses.  The only time that anyone used their bear spray was the woman who had it accidentally go off inside her pack - made for interesting clothing.

Inuvik is at nearly 69 deg North latitude - seems to get cold here.  And, permafrost - so all the pipes are above ground and run in heated tubes so they don't freeze.  Buildings are built on stilts so that they don't melt the permafrost and sink.

Off to look for bears and a coffee shop.

............

The day after the bike ride, took a ride in a little 4 seater Cessna - flying over the area at 1000 feet.  Gives a very different perspective on the land we've traveled through:  from the road, you see trees and bushes with an occasional stream or lake.  But, there is no perspective - except from an occasional high spot where you can see for great distances, but it still looks like the same forest.   From the air, you can see that a huge amount of the area is taken up by those streams, rivers, and lakes - they're everywhere - looks like 1/3 of the area is open water.  And, when we later walked more through the tundra, there is lots of water hidden in the bushes - waiting for me to fall in, knee deep.  Presumably a function of the permafrost - no drainage, it all stays on the surface.

A sidelight:  we visited a lady at her family whaling camp.  Asked her whether the bears ever bothered her, and she said no - they mostly scrounge around in the berry patch behind the cabin.   Where her 6 year old grandson was playing - guess he enjoys having the big, fuzzy animals around.

Really, despite all the hype about bears, they are rarely seen, and rarely troublesome when seen - much less of a hassle or danger than riding around in a big American city.

And, the small plane flight (and the flight home in a 737) gave a better perspective of the terrain we came through:  the rounded rocky terrain that had been under the continental glaciers, the mounds of glacial debris/moraines at the edge of the glaciers, the Ogilvie mountains that had been sculpted by mountain glaciers, and the Richardson mountains that had never been glaciated and were all  frost shattered rock.  And, the Mackenzie delta the size of Massachusetts, that is flat, flat, flat and is so wet that nothing happens there in the summer except by boat - anything you do happens in the winter when the water is frozen.

Well, the above is a mashup of the last week - we didn't get enough internet access to get it sent out, and there wasn't much to write about in real time.

Signing off.

64 degrees north

Yesterday was 155 km into firece headwinds.  Took forever and was pretty demoralizing - pedal harder and nothing happened.  Our outfitter doesn't provide lunch stops, so you have to carry food and liquids with you or plan on stopping at stores along the way.  Fortunately,  we were to have a convenience store at 115 Km where we could stock up.  Unortunately, the store had burned down 3 years ago.  Apparently our outfitter doesn not provide accurate information either.  I'll let you know in a couple days how badly contaminated the Klondike River water is.

Low temp last night was 0 deg C - freezing.  Rain in the forecast off & on the next few days, but the forecasts seem to change every couple hours, so who knows.

Breaking a saddle rail when the nearest bike shop is hundreds of km away is an interesting proposition.  Scavenged a saddle from a non-riding staff member to get Jean through the day yesterday (new saddle on a day when you're in the saddle for 9 hours - hmmm, wonder if anything can go wrong with that?  But, if something did go wrong, it would be something she's not likely to wish to share with too many people.)  And, a new support crew is coming up from the south to trade off with the current crew - so, they're going to bring a new saddle - hopefully, the message as to what we need got translated correctly into Canadian.  We'll find out in a few hours.

The riding has been quite exciting:  lots of trees - changing from hemlock and fir to lodgepole pine and spruce with lots of Aspen mixed in.  Glaciated terrain giving way yesterday and for the rest of the trip to an area that didn't get glaciated during the ice age:  rather an unusual circumstance with continental glaciers over huge swathes of the Norther Hemisphere but a large part of northwestern North America in Alaska and the Yukon and eastern Siberia with no glaciers, so open for migration (since sea levels at the time were hundreds of meters lower than they are now) of humans from Siberia into Alaska and the Yukon, then douthwards into the Americas as the glaciers melted 14,000 or so years ago - humans had arrived in the Yukon at least 25,000 years ago - don't ask me how I know that.

Lots of mammoths and other extinct large beasts preserved up here in the permafrost, then washed out during the gold mining.  Surprisingly, it is legal to make jewelry out of extinct mammoth tusks (unlike elephants, the mammoth extinction horse is already out of the barn) - and a number of stores sells the stuff.

Interestingly, apparently the oral traditions of the local native (First Nation) tribes goes back far enough that their stories tell of hunting the mammoths.  Seems even cooler than Hans Christian Anderson and the dogs with the dish sized eyes.

Besides the trees, what else:  Canada has really cool roadside signs describing the geology and the forest and some traditions.  And the history:  somebody discovered gold, thousands of people came from California and Seattle to pan, sluice, and dig for gold (and a few girls to keep the boys happy - sort of).  They hiked over the mountains, then took a steamer.  Then, they made some roads, and railroads (only took a couple years), and eventually got caterpillar tractors instead of horses.  Then there was no more gold and they got Holland America and Princess cruises to bring lots of tourists carrying gold back to the site of origin.  And, the old gold assay offices are now ice cream parlors and T-shirt shops (picture of bear chasing bicyclists:  "Meals on Wheels") or ("I lost my virginity, but I still have the box it came in").

Not much else in recorded history.

The first 2 weeks

Wifi and cellular data is sparse, so it's been sketchy trying to post anything.

Unlike Europe, really describable things are sparse (ooooh!  There's another Douglas Fir!) - not a single cathedral so far.  And, it's hard to give a sense of the drama of "big" views - Wow!  Look at all that water, and all that forest, and how far we can see into the distance.

 Vancouver Island:  southern part of the island seems to be one long strip mall surrounded by wilderness.  Even small towns (like 10 houses) we sometimes see Electric Vehicle charging stations.  Victoria seems to have no taxis that are not Prius.  Northern part of the island gets a bit more remote:  like 60 km from one building to the next.

Then, the ferry.  BC Ferry, nice well kept up, tours of the highly computerized bridge with very tight control by the crew, good food.  Then to the Alaska ferry, rusty, awful food, slacker lookouts who seemed to use the binoculars to look at everything but what lay ahead.  USA, USA!  Ho hum, another couple whales swimming around and spouting.  

Now, we're oficially in The North (actually, to the real Canadians, we're not really there yet).  Boulder is at 40 degrees North latitude, we crossed 50 on Vancouver Island, and are now at 60 deg in Whitehorse (the rapids that stopped navigation here on the Yukon River were said to look like the manes on White Horses).  At Inuvik, we'll be just north of 68 degrees.
The ride from Skagway on the ocean up over White Pass at 1003 meters (3300 feet) and then down the other side to the Yukon River was great - pretty clouds, glaciers, great geology.  Thick  fir forests that would be hard to walk through, with ferns, moss (and of course, mosquitos galore) on the wet West side.  Then, above treeline everything was scoured by glaciers until a few thousand years ago - so lots of exposed rock and glaciated features, and moonscape, then down below treeline into forest  more like home - short needles pines (?lodgepole), spruce near the streams, open forest that you could see for hundreds of meters.  Momma and baby bear walking across the road - took one look at me and ran for cover.  

Whitehorse is the territorial capital - 25,000 people and the whole Yukon Territory has 35,000 folks in an area 1.5 times the size of Texas.    Nice liitle town with a great bike shop (seem to specialize in those super fat tired Surly bikes that they ride in the snow when it is 40 below  - that's a nice number because it's the same in Celsius and Farenheit).  Yukon is a big, fast river.  

We'll be heading to Dawson City, the Yukon's second largest city at about 1500 permanent residents.

Next campsite down is a motorcycle rider with a "plush" fiber seatcover.  Little squirrel has been working away at it, pulling out tufts of the padding - should have a nice warm nest for the winter at 40 below whatever - thanks to Microfiber.

Europe had too much coffee, pastries, culture, and history. And it got hot.

So, Jean suggested that we try something different:  no coffee shops, bakeries, museums, art galleries, or much recorded history.  Something where we could keep up our momentum without all those stops at historical sites and more coffee shops, and wineries.  Maybe a bit cooler than it had been in Bulgaria.  Maybe even some nights without even a campground to stay at.  Of course, bugs would be good.  And wild animals like caribou, wolves, and some really big bears (not like the little ones that visit our back porch).

So, tomorrow we fly to Vancouver to begin a ride up the length of Vancouver Island, then onto the ferry up the inland passage to Skagway, Alaska.  Back on the bikes, up over the old gold rush pass and then down to Whitehorse, on to Dawson City (by now we're way north), and onto the gravel Dempster highway nearly 500 miles over a few mountain ranges, cross the Arctic Circle and to Inuvik - on the Mackenzie River delta.  Still about 100 miles from the Arctic Ocean, but the road (at least in summer - goes all the way as an ice road in winter) ends there.

Posts will be intermittent - it takes about 5 days for wifi waves to travel that far from the US.

As you can see it's pretty far North, and there aren't many coffee shops.