Honest Guv, It's the voices made me do it!

From Whitehorse it was just over 100 km to Haines Junction where I decided to warm up with a coffee. The temperature was hovering around 12c, by far the coldest I had ridden in for a while. As I entered the small cafe attached to a motel there were only two other customers in there, a man with his elderly mother who were returning from a trip to the southern US to their home in Anchorage in a huge 5^th wheel RV. We chatted for a while about places to go and to see in and around Anchorage and of course where I had come from; his family were from Northampton originally. Coffee (and another muffin!) finished I headed for the restroom before settling my bill and getting back on the road. When I returned the couple had left and when I asked for my bill I was told that the man had already paid it! I hustled out to the car park and just managed to catch them and say thanks before they headed off. I could write a book just about the random acts of kindness I have received on this trip. Funny really as before I left I kept getting dire warnings saying never mind the bears, watch out for the people! Another urban myth goes pop!

I pushed on towards Fairbanks although reckoning that I would only get as far as Tok, somewhat over half way. In fact I didn't even get that far. The weather had stayed fairly grey and cold although I kept seeing tracts of tantalising blue skies ahead of me but never managed to catch them. All morning I had been riding along a wide vally between two mountain ranges. To my right was the Nisling range, whilst on my left were the St Elias Mountains backed by the… wait for it… Robinson Range! No seriously, I’m not making it up. And smack in the middle of it all was Canada’s highest mountain, Mt Logan at 5950m. I’m running out of superlatives on this trip, and I've a long way to go yet! Whilst I had been riding under a predominantly grey sky, the blue bit I mentioned earlier seemed to sit on top of the highest mountains with little fluffy white bits which I was never sure whether they were cloud or snow. It was simply sensationally, stunning, awesome…. Just keep added your own to taste as I don’t have my Thesaurus with my and I've run out. Anyway it was a fabulous ride

Arriving at Kluane Lake I spotted a sign for flights in ski plane over the Kluane Glacier and Icefields, I hesitated for a split second and rode on after all I was running to a very tight budget. The road ran right alongside the lake which was that wondrous turquoise colour that I'm beginning to get used to. It's caused by the sun reflecting (refracting?) from the silt being washed down from the Icefields  A mile or two later I spotted the tiny plane skimming over the lake, heading for touchdown at the airstrip. Before I knew what was happening, I had swung the bike around in a u-turn and was chasing the plane back to base. Working on my usual cock-eyed logic, I reckoned I might never be coming here again and how much could a short hop up to glacier and back be anyway? I set myself a maximum of $100  about (£50) for a 20 to 30  minute flight, although never having done such a trip before I really didn't have a Scooby! At the airfield, I rode across the landing strip and parked amongst the few vehicles already there. It was also a research station so most of the cars belonged to the scientists. I walked across to the tiny shed that served as an office and met Tom the pilot who was also receptionist, chief cook and bottle washer and I suspect only employee (boss) of the company!  He was just briefing two other prospective clients and told us that the flight was approx 1 hour ( bang goes my budget thought I) and we would get right up over the Glacier and the Icefields as well as seeing Mt Logan if weather permitted. The cost was a budget busting $225! It took less time than my u-turn before I heard a voice coming from my lips saying “Great, let’s go”… Yet again, I have to confess, it was the voices made me do it! 

Along with Danielle and Michel, two Quebecquois, I clambered into the tiny plane, by far the tiniest I have ever been in, with just four small seats. We bumped along the dirt runway before Tom swung the plane around ready for take off. I was stunned by the seemingly slow speed at which we left the ground, I'm sure even The Beast could have kept up with Tom’s little plane, but soon we were climbing up over the lake, being buffeted by the winds coming down from the mountains and the cold air from the glacier. Tom kept up a commentary of what we were seeing. His main job other than taking tourists site-seeing was ferrying scientists up onto the Icefields and taking skiers to the mountains in the winter, both of which involved landing on the snow and usually having to dig the plane out and building a snow ramp before t could take off again! Today, thankfully (?) we would not be landing as the snow was far too soft. It was obvious that from his work with the scientists Ton had acquired a wealth on knowledge about both the mountains and the Icefield system. I really don’t know how the flight could have been any better. Even the weather was on our side, as we rounded the corner of one mountain Tom exclaimed at just how clear the weather was. Apparently on his previous flight, just an hour earlier, it had been raining heavily at that point and was not possible to get up close to Mt Logan. This time around it was perfect.

I must have taken at least 2 to 300 photographs as well as shooting some video on my little Garmin Virb.. Yes, it was way above what I should have spent, but in terms of value for money I really could fault it. Tom’s love of flying and of the mountains was very evident in his commentary, general observations and conversation; he really made it all come alive. Whilst we were still way out by Mt Logan he announced with a laugh that we were due back in three minutes… I hoped that didn't mean he was literally dropping us there in the snow to walk back! But then I remembered that I hadn't paid him yet… In fact our hour stretched to about 90 minutes. It’s certainly one part of the trip that I’ll never forget, with Tom expertly threading the little plane through what appeared to be impossibly narrow gaps in the peaks and taking us close enough to the hillsides so that we could clearly identify the unusual breed of sheep that inhabit them and try to spot other wildlife such as bears, Caribou and Moose. Yes it was worth every last buck!

With my feet back on Terra Firma once more I rode once more along the lake shore and carried on for Tok and the Alaska border still stopping at far too regular intervals to take photographs including one of this most unusual memorial which as you might imagine caught my eye and my attention

As I crossed back into the USA and Alaska I met a couple of Harley riders who gave me the good news that they had had rain all the way from Fairbanks; Oh joy! Of course a couple of minutes later it started to gently rain adding to the cold air through which I was already riding. I could still see the tantalising blue skies ahead though and I though I would try to catch them up before camping for the night. As if by magic, just as I spotted a camp ground the rain stopped. It really hadn’t been much anyway. To round off my day nicely, the camp ground was free, the sun came out just as I unpacked my tent and when I wandered down to the ominously named Deadman’s Lake  I spent a wonderful hour watching a couple of beavers swimming around the end of the pontoon on which I was standing! A perfect end to a perfect day.