A Pigeon Heads Home to Roost

A quick one today because the road today was quick but not all that interesting, and because I've laid down almost 700 miles. I have now ridden the length of the Alaska Highway, save a teensy piece between Watson Lake and Nugget City. Meh. I'm sure 30 or 40 years ago driving the AlCan was a challenge. Now it's all paved except for the construction zones. Sure, the section between Destruction Bay and Beaver Creek (at the U. S. border) gets a little bumpy from the frost heaves, but it's hardly worthy of the "I Survived the Alaska Highway" stickers and t-shirts I kept seeing.

Thanks to being surrounded by mountains last night, it actually got a little dark. Being further south helps, too, I'm sure. But Ol Sol managed to claw his way back over the mountains no later than 5:45 this morning, because that's when the light woke me up. Which is good, because that means an earlier start. Some coffee and oatmeal, and it's go time.

But not before the campground dog makes his morning rounds. He's got a few years on him, so he wasn't in any hurry to head up the hill to my tent, but I was content to wait. Some scratches on the head, then off he goes to pee on the tree he peed on last night, and on his way.

Meanwhile, while I was sleeping I suppose, the goat family walked 50 miles down the road to bid me farewell. 

Or maybe they're distant cousins of the ones I saw yesterday. I pop up over a rise, mid-corner, and there stands Mama Goat in the middle of the road. Mama was in no hurry to move, so I went around and parked. Baby mountain goat was cute, as cars would go by he'd leap over the guardrail. Then as soon as the car went away, he'd leap back over the rail and go lay down by the road.

Speaking of goats in the road, wouldn't that be a cool GoPro video? Sweeping corner, pop over the rise and there stands a goat? Bro, that would be so awesome! Good thing I had it recording. When I got off the bike, I looked at it to make sure it was running, maybe give it a little wave. It sat there doing nothing, not recording a thing. I swear, if it weren't for the fact that fish could probably do with fewer heavy metals in their diet, I'd throw the damned thing in the river. Short of buying GoPro's $80 remote, there's just no way to be sure of the state it's in. Dudes, I have the most gnarly videos of the bike parked at a gas station and me downing a Gatorade.  It goes on for like ten minutes like that! It was epic! I do have a solution, but it involves the camera, an iPhone, a Pebble smartwatch, all connected wirelessly. And not just a single wireless protocol with, say, Bluetooth running the show. No, part of it uses Wifi (GoPro to phone) and part uses Bluetooth (phone to watch). Oh, yeah, let's spend my vacation fiddling with all that. I did it exactly once. I'd rather do without vacation videos that I'm never going to watch.

After leaving the mountains, it's a short jaunt to Fort Nelson, BC, and civilization starts shortly after that in Fort Nelson. Civilization, yuk. Stoplights, and traffic, and strips malls. It's odd coming from nothing but work camps, towns with populations of 37, and gas pumps with mechanical counters to...this. But civilization also brings a Tim Horton's, so there's lunch.

21 miles before finishing off the AlCan, I go 10K out of the way to see an old section of the original highway. There's a timber bridge there that was built with the original highway. It goes over a big river gorge, and it's curved; kinda cool. 

Then it's back to BC 97 to lay down some miles and get a picture at the AlCan sign in Dawson Creek.

I told Katherine on the phone tonight that she didn't miss anything by not going to Dawson Creek last fall. Not a bad town, but nothing exciting, either. A nice woman with her daughters snaps my pic in front of the sign. She and her daughters are from Montana, and they're heading up to the southern peninsula of Alaska. I hope the good weather holds for them.

If you see grain elevators, you can be assured of two things: the road will be boring, and it will be fast. Just the thing to lay down miles and put a bow on this trip.

It seems that on every solo motorcycle trip, Jimmy Buffet's song _Come Monday_ comes around on the playlist toward the end of the trip, about the time I'm missing my honey. The lyrics seem so fitting about that point in any trip, just like today. I might not have spent "four lonely days in a brown L. A. haze", but I do "just want you back by my side". Lovely song, always brings a tear to the eye at just the right time in the trip.

I considered gassing up in Prince George, then heading a few more miles down the road to a primitive campsite, throw the tent and sleeping bag down for some zzzzz's, then kickstand up a bit after dawn. But as the rain comes down, I consider that a motel can get me an even earlier start. That's my excuse, it's all in the interests of saving time. A Sandman *and* an attached Denny's? Sold.

I didn't think I'd be home on Friday, but as I was doing the math last night I figured I could if I pulled a couple of 600-700 mile days. Time to go home to the lovely wife that bailed me out when I needed it, and otherwise made this trip possible. I'll be home tomorrow if all goes well, and can spend the weekend with her before she leaves to visit family. I love you, Katherine, and miss you very much. I have eagle's wings now, and I'll fly home soon.