Day 15
North to Alaska

I may have found a little slice of heaven – and a river runs through it.  And the road to get here may have provided the single greatest day of motorcycling that I have ever experienced. 

The day began with promise – 63 degrees when I pulled out of Whitefish, MT – and I hoped it would be a different Route 93 than it had been yesterday.  However, I couldn’t have dreamed just how different it would be. 

You see, some time ago, I decided to put my expectations aside – at least as much as I am capable of doing – you know – those times when you want to invent the future.  I finally figured out after experiencing a number of years of sunrises and sunsets, that I wasn’t bright enough to wish for some of the really wonderful things that I have happened upon in this lifetime.   

Today was one of those times, when if I could have articulated a perfect day of motorcycle riding, I couldn’t have designed a day as good as this one has been. 

Someone once told me I needed a little bit of the hair of the dog that bit me – and sure enough I got a little bit of that this morning.  I crossed over into Canada after being asked only a few questions – not even asked to show ID – and headed north right into a construction zone.  Now in British Columbia, they do road construction a little differently – they remove the entire paved roadway – regrade the roadbed – and then lay down new pavement.  That may not seem unusual – except, in this case, they removed the entire roadway – not just one lane – so I had about a 10-mile stretch of gravel to ride across. 

Of course my mind immediately went back to the trip across Sage Creek Rim Road – which landed me in the hospital for two days – but a little hair of the dog that bit me was good for me today – did just fine and restored a ton of confidence – for what surely will be many miles of gravel before this trip is over. 

As if the riding day wasn’t perfect enough, at the end of it – I found that little slice of heaven called The Jasper House – a double tongue and groove knotty pine interior – no air conditioning or telephone – a horseshoe pit in the center green – and a river runs through it. 

If I should die before I wake – just leave me right here.

So to you and Iowa Sioux and Kinsay, Labrador, Texas – I say goodnight from Jasper, Alberta, Canada.

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