July 9, 1999
|I stopped in the café this morning
and read about all the fires near Dawson City in the newspaper. They
said if it gets worse, they may consider evacuating the town of 2100
people. Well I hope not! Im looking forward to the music festival.
I took it very easy riding the next 34 miles to Johnsons Crossing. Patrick was there waiting for me and talking to that older cyclist from Montana. The three of us decided to find someplace down the road and camp together. I left riding strong and feeling better than ever. I felt so alive as I pedaled as hard as I could, speeding off the shoulder into the grass, and then back onto the pavement again. Ah, how I miss mountain biking. I was tempted to ride down in the ditch but these tires were no match for that.
When I reached a sign that said Squanqa Lake Campground, I waited for Patrick and the other guy to see if they wanted to stay there. The consensus was yes. Riding in, we saw the 3 Germans setting up camp. We met them in Watson Lake the day we took off from riding. They were arrogant then and only one of them briefly talked to Patrick outside the store. My "hello" was un-returned and all I got was a glare. The older cyclist with us, from Montana, met them 2 days ago and they refused to speak to him. After we set up our tents, Patrick went to get some water and found that the Germans had re-packed their stuff and bolted. Geez, whats up with that?
Anyway, we had dinner and talked with the other guy. Of course, I totally forgot his name. One of these days Ill be able to start remembering names :-) Well, he said that this has been the most desolate road hes ever biked on. His route began in Glacier Park and will end in Whitehorse. After this ride, he said he could probably cycle anywhere in the world, even Siberia.
Today - 70.80 miles