Day 2: The Wilderness Begins

Another uneventful day, if a bit more lonely. 460 miles, says the GPS. That GPS unit handily connects to the bike's computer, so I can reference all of the information in the comfort of my room without having to run out to the bike. It also tells me the lowest temperature it saw was 56F, high of 73F. Definitely cooler than it was yesterday.

"Wait a minute? A room? Stewart, I thought you bought a high-dollar tent because you eschew such luxuries as a room?" Meh, a bit of a story. We'll get to that in a bit.

But first, left the provincial campground near Quensal and continued on highway 97 north. Not much to say about much of the day. 97 is fast, not a lot north of Prince George to slow you down, and the side ditches are cut wide to making scouting those motorcycle-destroying moose easier to see. Not that I ever saw one. The only wildlife I saw were two big horn sheep yesterday, grazing at the side of the road. Sadly, couldn't get the GoPro turned on in time.

Oh, wait, there was one thing: the world's largest fly fishing rod.

Now, in my book, in order to be the "world's <adjective>-est <thing>" it must be functional. The fly fishing rod was not. The reel contained no axle that could turn, and it was firmly bolted to the rod. Cheaters.

Anyway, it wasn't until late in the day that I felt like I need to start keeping an eye on gas, and looking harder for the dreaded mooses.

From here, on highway 16, the road narrows, the side ditches are no longer cut back, and there are few places to even pull off the road. I'll bet I didn't see a half dozen cars, and no other bikes. After, I dunno, 100 miles or so I come to Meziadin Junction. I was just going to stop for gas, a cup of coffee, and head on 90km (err, sorry, 55 miles; I've been in Canada too long already). But as I was drinking my coffee, the guy behind the counter told me that the totem pole behind me was installed just today.

 

There was a big ceremony, community elders were out, the works. He showed me some pictures. I asked what it represented, he told some more stories. Cool, more local color than I get most places. Apparently the whole complex is sort of a "community" co-op. And by "community", I mean "native peoples", "first nation", "folk who got screwed by the Europeans", pick your favorite term. Then he mentioned that they had lodging as well. Okay, you got camping? I mean, another 50 miles isn't going to make any difference, and I'd rather stay at a place with an interesting story than a generic KOA or what have you. Yup, they have camping. How much? "Oh, the camping is usually free."

I'll admit to a little white guilt in my decision. But ya know, I've got to admire this effort more than the easy call to "Casinos R Us". No one's making any money off of free camping, so what the hell. $96 Canadian gets you these luxurious accomodations:

I've paid more for less. Plus, the exterior is so inviting.

Yeah, my room is inside that wall right behind the bike. No, there's no hot tub. But you can't beat the view:

This ain't no golf resort. In fact, you just about need an adventure bike just to get through the parking lot. It's a work camp, as evidenced by the "taking your work boots off before entering" signs all over the place. But the room is warm and dry, the shower water hot, and they have internet. Well, sort of have internet. It worked for a bit, then I think the satellites fell out of their orbit in the middle of my FaceTime call to Katherine. No matter, I'm not here to catch up on the latest in cat videos and pictures of people's lunch.

Two things that suck: Blogger's mobile app, and Continental TKC70 tires. C'mon, Blogger, you can't auto-scroll as I type? I mean, I think you get that for free using UITextField, so I don't know how you pulled that off.

TKC70s: they were fine for a while. They performed well in the off-road class. They were fine on the road, though not as sticky as some. I was pretty impressed with them. Then after about 2000 miles (read, late yesteray) I noticed that at anything faster than 85mph they wobble and weave. This bike has previously been rock solid to a GPS-indicated 123mph (right past the school that your child attends, if you were wondering). "Who needs to go 85mph?", you ask? Anyone that wants to pass another vehicle on a two-lane road in a timely manner, that's who. (You're probably really asking, "who the hell needs to go 123mph?" I do, and I don't owe you an explanation as to why.)

The tread blocks are also wearing funny. The off-center treads are now 3mm or so shorter than the center treads. They're crap, don't buy them. I thought maybe it's the added weight of the luggage. But I'm 140lbs. Even with luggage, I'll bet it all doesn't add up to the weight of your average American. Hell, most Germans (where the bike was made) probably weigh more. 

Rear tire looks fine, so if I can find another front I'll get one spooned on. If not, no biggie. It's not a real safety issue now that I know the limitations, and it most likely will get me home. As long as I keep it under 123, that is.

Out of pictures and out of words, so off to bed.