Day 7 – Dempster Day 1
Left Dawson City just after 10am under ominous cloud after a
hearty breakfast and a quick snack top-up.
We filled the gas cans and the bikes at a station in town,
then rode to the start of the Dempster where we topped up the bikes again.
Eagle plains was about 360km away. That was the goal for the day.
We were timid for the first bit but started loosening up
until we came across a grader in our lane in the middle of a hill. It was road
construction where they were putting down more dirt and grading it. This was a
bit dicey and the bikes moved a lot under us side to side (in hindsight, this was
not all that bad compared to what was to come). After that, conditions
improved. We had to stop to put on rain gear as it was spitting all in all the
road was fine. It even dried up enough that we were averaging 90km/h with the
only issue being the long lines of potholes. We were passing campers and
everything felt good.
We put on a lot of kilometers while the road was wet but
rideable. The aired down TKC80s bit into the surface no problem.
Then the surface changed. Suddenly the wet hardpack turned
into wet muck with deep truck tyre ruts. I don’t think I’ve ever maintained
that much focus for so long. 10km, maybe more, of goopy mud. The truck ruts
were the worst. The rear slipped back and forth, and then the front, the bars
twisting side to side. We had the words of our off-road instructor in our heads reminding us to stay
loose in the arms and grip the bike with your legs, keep your eyes up, and when
the bike started getting too out of shape, apply a bit more throttle. We each
had a couple ‘big moments’ where the bucking of the bike seemed to be too much
to possible recover from but each time it came back. We kept wondering if the
next rut would be the one to throw us off the bike.
Eventually we stopped on the side of the road to plug in our
communication devices which were low on battery. This turned out to be the
exact spot where the pea soup section ended and the road became hard packed
(more or less) and just wet. This was at about 50km to go to Eagle Plains.
The last 10km seemed to last forever as the rain came back.
Finally we made it into the resort. We checked in at the hotel and headed
towards the car wash. It was occupied by a man basically disassembling a BMW.
His radiator had clogged with mud and the bike was overheating. We later
chatted with him in the bar. His name was Bruce and he’d headed up to the
Arctic Circle sign earlier that day and said the conditions were really bad.
Yikes.
Day 8 – Dempster Day 2
We awoke full of hope for the day. It certainly looked
brighter out. At breakfast we saw Bruce again, who never had good news. He said
the ferry was still down at Peel River because of high water.
We talked to some KLR and V-Strom guys who had heard the
same thing. They planned to only go as far as the Arctic Circle then go back to
Dawson city. We knew we at least wanted to get to the Arctic Circle so we hung
around until about 12 noon and set off for the sign. The snot like mud Bruce
had described had almost dried entirely. The road was moist, but fine. We took
it really easy. I must admit, I teared up a bit when we reached the sign
indicating we were in the Arctic Circle.
We decided that we might as well press on to the Northwest
Territories border and cross that off the list too. Again, the road was wet but
not muddy. Imagine our surprise when we hit a deep mud bog in the middle of the
road. I gassed it through the greasy muck and dad almost made it through but
dropped the bike. We efficiently unloaded the luggage and used the 2-person
bike lifting technique taught at Too Cool Motorcycle School to right the bike.
We had a break at the NWT sign to
decide what to do next. We used a few pricey satphone minutes to call the ferry
report line just to learn it was still closed. Determined to keep going until
we literally could not go further, we continued towards the ferry anyway. We
were stopped by a woman in an RV who told us again that the ferry was closed.
At this point we actually turned around on the road, intending to head back.
But again, we decided to keep going. We had a day in hand so if we had to camp
one night at the terminal, so be it.
We finally reached the terminal. I say terminal, but
it really is just the road disappearing into the Peel river. There are a few
run down shacks around, but nothing official. The ferry was out in the river;
the river was still too high for it to land on either side. There were big
trucks all lined up so we joined the queue.
Locals were getting ferried across by relatives in small
boats – leaving their cars on our side. They’d come back and retrieve them when
the water dropped in a few days or weeks.
A French couple in a badass offroad RV unit were in line in
front of us.
No information was given from the ferryman. We just waited
and waited, thinking eventually he’d try landing. We cooked 2 tins of soup on
our camp stove and discovered we didn’t have a ton of water left. It was
getting later and later. We’d arrived at 5:15pm. We didn’t want to unpack too
much in case the ferry suddenly resumed operation so we slept a bit on and
around the bikes. The mosquitos were horrendous. Absolutely terrible. Much
bugspray was applied but its effects were always short lived. A family
traveling back across the river in a boat gave us some juice boxes from their
car. Very nice considering we had only a couple bottles of water left and would
have to start heading back to Eagle Plains if it got too low.
Day 9 – Dempster Day 3
In the morning, the ferry was still stuck. Some people asked
if we’d like to sit in their car for a while to escape the mosquitos, so we
did.
After a while we walked down to the water to check the level
again. It had gone down a bit in the night, but not very much.
The French lady in the RV
made us ‘tiny coffees like from France’ to sip on.
Eventually we resigned ourselves to lying in the tent,
hiding from mosquitoes. Then we heard a bike go by. Coming from the shore. We thought
they must have opened the ferry but we discovered that a man had ferried across
a bunch of bikes in his scow (a small wooden motor boat).
We got the man’s phone number and packed up the bikes as
fast as we could and rode them down to the water’s edge. In about 15 minutes, a
man named Robert, who owns the campground across the river, and a boy named
Tony showed up. They agreed that he’d take the bikes across for $40 each.
Getting the bikes on was sketchy and he could only take one at a time. We backed
the bikes across a teetering board and into the boat. They seemed wobbly but
secure. At the other side of the river we walked the bikes off the boat with
very fine clutch control. The sketchiest part was the teeter totter moment as
the bike reached the tipping point of the board.
We crossed a second ferry (this one was working) and
discovered that the Dempster had become relatively dull. We had no problem
ripping along at 90kph even in the deeper gravel. The road was pretty straight
and dusty. Just as we were nearing Inuvik, the rain started again. The road got
sloppy and we picked our way through the final few kms to Inuvik. Then it
brightened up and we were there. Inuvik is paved and it was weird riding on
tarmac again, especially with the low tyre pressures. We stopped at the ‘End
of the Dempster’ sign for photos. The cheapest hotel was full, so we sprang for
an upgrade – tonight we did not feel like camping.
Day 10 – Dempster Day 4
We woke up in the luxury suite of the Capital Suites in
Inuvik. We were looking forward to another day of riding, but dreading crossing
the Peel River again. We didn’t know if the ferry would be open yet, and if we
could find Robert, our motorboat captain, again if it was not open. After a
delicious breakfast of waffles with whipped cream and blueberries, we left
Inuvik and set out from the end of the Dempster.
The morning’s ride to the ferry was nice – the road was dry
and the weather warm. Just before Fort
MacPherson the road got a bit wet but still no problem.
When we got down the ferry terminal, it was evident that the
ferry was not running. We were just about to phone Robert when we heard someone
calling to us. It was a man named Wilbur and his friend Dave were standing near
a boat. They said they’d take the bikes accross for $30 instead of Robert’s
$50. So in front of the queue of traffic waiting for the ferry we loaded Dad’s
bike into the small boat, backing it down the riverbank. Soon we were at the
other side. Again the bike was walked out of the boat with precision clutch
control. Perfect. Then the next bike was ferried across. Again, perfect. We
ended up paying Wilbur and Dave the full $40/bike – it seemed only fair.
We stood around and talked
for a bit with the guys. One man was walking from the river with some fish he’d
caught. He invited us to watch how he smoked the fish in his smokehouse. We
watched the man’s wife Lucy slice the fish up expertly. They hang the fish in
the smokehouse for a week or more to dry it out. It was a delicious smell. After the fish smoking demo, we got back on the bikes and
set off down the road.
What followed was an excellent day of riding. The road was
mostly dry the whole way from the ferry all the way back to Eagle Plains. Since
it had been wet the first time we had ridden this section, it felt like a
totally different road. Our average speed was about 80km/s as opposed to the
snail’ pace we had been travelling at on the way north. In no time we were back
at the Eagle Plains hotel for a burger and a cold beer. Yukon Gold and Yukon
Red. The bikes got a chain lube, chain tighten and a wash ready for tomorrow’s
ride.
We were not too concerned about the ride this morning as the
sun was shining. Fuel, for us and the bikes, then we were off. For a large
section of the ride we were ripping along at a rapid pace in the dust. The road
was totally different from what we remembered. Where there had been muck, there
was now dried mud. This made the road a bit bumpy. We had one rain shower which
was short lived. The day was going well and the kilometers were ticking down.
With about 20kms left we hit more soupy mud from construction. The Dempster
wasn’t going to let us go without one last fight. With so little left to go we
were extra cautious. Eventually the mud ended and we could see the bridge that
marked the end of the road. The gravel ended and we crossed over the bridge,
pumping our fists.
