Sunday, 29 July 2012

Lost dog.

Ian from Plymouth, England writes;
"Dave, have either of you seen Eric, our dog? We last had him at Polzeath last week. Here is a photograph of him".

Ian. that is a very good question.
Only yesterday I took this photo of a very contented, well-travelled little dog outside Grand Forks, British Columbia, Canada.
It might be me but there definitely seems to be a likeness there, don't you think?
 Good luck in finding Eric, although I am sure he is having a lovely time, wherever he is....

Dawson City to Skagway....

Dawson City to Skagway was a journey of mixed emotions. Five days of fairly constant and strong headwind did not bless me particularly, some very hot weather leading to 6.30am starts and non-existent services probably coloured my experience somewhat.
But there was much to enjoy as well -
Great wild camp spots, watching beavers at work whilst we had tea -
Sorry, I did not get a photo of them. The beaver lodge is there though.

Crossing mighty rivers over mighty bridges

Camping beside the Yukon River. This has to be the largest 'object' I have ever seen moving at such a pace. With others we calculated it was at least 15mph, but the scary part - and it was a little scary - was that it was completely silent, like a mythological beast. Every time you looked up it was there, ready to swallow up anything that came too close.
Still camped there though, I just put Sarah on that side of the tent.

Long empty roads, with good tarmac this time...
 And windows....
(Editor: windows?)

And just to prove that I am actually on this trip....
The final road to Skagway was a real surprise, a true beauty. Wild campimg at a disused native fish camp was interesting.
A cold wind and grey skies only added to the mysterious landscape; I felt it was the equal of anything we had biked through.

Skagway itself is a very small town, which receives three very large cruise liners which disgorge up to fifteen thousand of people onto its streets. Skagway businesses are lined up accordingly. This provokes mixed feelings amongst those who live there, but for some a jobs count - an easy perspective to understand.
We arrived in town just before all the ships left, and the following day there were none due at all due to a holiday.
This meant the towns workers came out to party. We were in a quiet bar one moment, the next there was a band playing (The excellent Nat King Kong, they were much better than their name) and we couldn't move, and Sarah was dancing and so it went on....
But the only photo you get is of an empty street. Rubbish, hey?

We did meet these two cool guys on Bruce Gordon's though....(Editor: Bruce Gordon is a custom US bike builder). More of them later.

Saturday, 28 July 2012

June: Teapot of the Month

There were no entries for the month of June - we did not even see a teapot, let alone have tea served in one. Civilisation has still to reach many parts of the world.

But, that means July will be a ROLLOVER MONTH!

The prize has increased accordingly and is now a week long holiday for two on the island of Capri...!
*Note; this competition is not open to any family or friends of the organisers, namely Dave or Sarah.
All we need now is an entry....

Dawson City, civilisation.

Civilisation, but not as we know it.
After a long, often hot, surprisingly hilly ride across the Top of The World, we arrived via the free ferry at Dawson City, population 1800.
On the surface a tourist attraction - the city has deliberately retained its wooden board walks, dirt streets and original wooden buildings, and admittedly the quite short Front Street has its fair share of ice cream parlours and gift shops.
But go one block back and even on a short visit you can sense a real town which exists at the dead end of a strip of tarmac or at the end of a long dirt road.

It has charm. We liked it.

It was also the place we met another cyclist. He was riding a fat tyre bike and heading south. His name is Nick Carman - he has a far-reaching blog tiled
''   that is well worth the look.

I find myself calling him Nick 'PT' Carman. The PT is for perfect teeth. I have teeth envy. They are perfect in every way, from the dentine, the colour, the proportions, from every direction they are just so.
Nick doesn't know it but I slipped a 'tooth donor' card into his wallet. Should anything happen to him I get his teeth. I am pretty sure they wouldn't actually fit me, but at least I could have them mounted and displayed in some way, or even made into a piece of bike-bling......
Nick was good fun, and what happened one fateful evening involving some beers, his bike and the Yukon river will always make me smile. Or shake my head. Or something. So Nick, wherever you are, the below is for you.

See if you can guess what happened....