In Australia, it is a practice to shout your mates a round and vice versa. If it's a particularly unique combination or shout - like 3 rums, vodka OJ and a Jim Beam w/no ice (in Oz it is also assumed that in the case of most rail spirits, if it is not mentioned the mix is cola by default), then there's a good chance the barman/maid will remember it and the price. In this case, if the first person to order it was friendly, everyone else will likely be treated well. On the flip side of this, if the first person to shout your group was annoying, or impolite, you're likely to suffer from their bad first impression.

Now, this might sound like it's a little more in-depth of an analysis than it deserves, giving that hundreds of people come through a pub on a weekend, and multiple bartenders are going to be working, but it only takes a smile and maybe a few quick pleasantries to ensure you'll be getting better service than the self-absorbed idiot who is waving the $50 bill at every bartender. By the way, what is he thinking? Everyone at the pub most likely has money - people don't tend to window shop for pints and cocktails. It's nice when people have their money ready (nothing is more annoying than someone complaining how long they've waited at the bar and then not knowing what it is they want or not having money ready) but there is a fine line between holding it in your hand and waving it in the air cause we [bartenders] just don't care....for that.

Now, I haven't paid much attention to my blog lately, in both terms of updating and aesthetics. This will hopefully change in the near future as I once again have reliable access to the internerd.

For the moment, I'll just let all know that Nat and I are back in Australia again. With a job offer she couldn't resist, we gave our notices and finished work in Jasper. We packed up our lives there, sold off what we couldn't pack and travelled back 3500km to see the fam in Onterrible (it's not that terrible, but that's just what Albertans call it). Three days on the road and we got back to the 'Frew. Some quality time and then we were flying out of Ottawa to Adelaide via Vancouver and Sydney. Couldn't push it off any further cause a day earlier or later woulda meant at least $1000 more in combined airfare. Caught up with one of my best mates Adam in VanCity (too short a time) and then with our mate Dan in Sydney before arriving in Adelaide. A day and a half there with Nat's 'rents and we picked up Rusty the heeler (not initially happy to see us, but eventually happy to be part of the family again) and flew to Alice Springs. More catchin up with mates there and picking up the 'Cruiser before driving 1500km north to Jabiru so Nat could start work.

What a journey! Nothing like somewhere in the neighborhood of 25,000km of travel - flying and driving, in about 12 days time. Good to finally be grounded again.

So, if you find yourself in the Top End of Australia, let us know and we'll make sure to have some cold beer ready.

Long story short, we're back in the Northern Territory of Australia - this time in the Top End. Visiting the Red Centre was great but a change is needed and our time up here was cut short last time so now we'll put down some roots and see how it treats us.

Not sure yet what's gonna keep me occupied but Darwin has a solid pub scene so I'll head there to check out some opportunities. Should have some new photos soon and hopefully finish the Yukon trip section....eventually.

Oh yeah, the Rustbucket is back and after a couple hours of her cold shoulders for leaving her for almost two years, she warmed up and was happy to get in the ute (after hopping on Qantas for her first flight ever).

Snowboarding: Marmot Basin was blessed with a ton of early season snowfall so I've been partaking in that quite frequently, racking up (to date) about 45 days of riding. I've picked things up pretty well, riding the toughest terrain Marmot has to offer and have even managed to land all types of 180's. The 360 is still pending, but I've had some close ones.... it'll come (cut me some slack, I'm not as young as I used to be).

Nat has switched to skiing this year and enjoys it much more than the snowboarding learning curve that dissuades so many. She rode her first black diamond run last week and hasn't looked back.

Yesterday, me and some mates went on a hiking adventure. The first couple hours hardly felt like adventure at the time but they were an investment with a big payoff. We snowshoed up the Signal Mountain fire road to the first campground and then swapped snowshoes for our snowboards for the way down. Near the top, the trail was wide and we were able to get in some pretty good turns in untouched powder but the lower section was more intense as much of it was overgrown and was simply a packed, straight trail descending through brush that threatened to ruin your ride if you ventured more than half a meter off of the trail. Three hours and 15 minutes up for a 35 minute ride down. Very reminiscent of the bike ride up to Mt. Fitzwilliam campground last summer.

Not a lot of excitement but it's hard to justify writing blog entries when the weather is nice and the spare time can be spent up here.

Our southbound journey continued on this day as we took a slight detour to Carcross to visit the Carcross Desert, which is one of those appearance based names cause it's not really a desert at all. It looks marginally like a desert as it sort of has dunes and does have lots of sand but in no way has the limited precipitation and humidity needed for a desert. The 'desert' is actually sand that was deposited by the remnants of several lakes from the last glacial period.

From Carcross you can continue south to Skagway or head east (as we did) to meet up with the Alaska Highway once more. We continued east until we were almost at Watson Lake and then turned southwards on the start of the Stewart-Cassiar Highway. This highway travels through northern British Columbia and is surrounded by incredible mountain landscapes and very few towns or other signs of people with the exception of old logging roads and abandoned (or somewhat abandoned) mining operations.

We arrived at Boya Lake Provincial Park just before sunset and only a week before they were closing for the season. Our camp was set up on a site overlooking the lake, and it may not have been summer, but the temperature was much more comfortable than what we'd left in the Yukon. I'll run the risk of sounding like a broken record but there is nothing quite as relaxing as having your camp set up and a meal made in time to watch the sunset.

End of day twelve.

Brrrrrrr. The comfortable temperatures that greeted us to Tombstone the previous night had disappeared quickly. The temperature had dropped overnight to -5 Celsius and the tent was covered in a thin layer of ice when we woke up. The gloves were pulled out and we packed up camp after I made coffee. I wouldn't say that I'm a complete coffee addict but a nice warm mug in your hands certainly makes waking up to sub-zero temperatures (in a tent...) a little easier.

We left Tombstone Park and spent an hour driving before we said farewell to the Dempster Highway. A fuel stop at the crossroads and we were back on Highway 2 heading south to Whitehorse. Our previous night's camping in cold weather was a good slave driver - the whip was cracking as we sped southwards in the hope of finding warmer weather.

The scenery was beautiful, the colours of the landscapes still a spectrum of golden birch, emerald spruce and pine and glassy lakes. We considered several side trips, possibly to Keno or a hike to the Five Finger rapids but we'd seen enough in the past couple of days to satisfy our curiosity and we desperate for any sort of warmth that the south might offer so we pressed onwards.

As it turned out, that warmth was not to be found in Whitehorse, or at least not camping there, so we found a cheap hotel and checked in for the evening. Coincidentally, when we parked and got out at the hotel, Nat pointed out that the truck next to us was the very same one that we'd passed on the Dempster Highway just south of Eagle Plains. There was definitely evidence of the rollover but the 'OK' message in mud had disappeared from the driver's door.

End of day eleven.

This day started early with the hopes of putting some serious km's behind us and getting back to warmer climates and the benefits of camping and cooking our own meals. We left Inuvik with a beautiful sunrise over the road south and good weather presenting good driving conditions. We made quick work of the ferry crossings and were soon back at the foot of the Richardson mountains. The conditions here were much better than on our previous travels. Much of the snow had disappeared and the cloud level was slightly elevated giving us a further view of the surrounding landscape. It also helped that the graders had been out on the highway, smoothing out ruts that had slowed our travel northwards several days earlier.

The Yukon/NWT border is a place that seems to be forever harassed by windswept snowbanks and a biting gale that would have you call a thermometer a liar. This observation is only based on the two crossings that I've made (and so is surely false) but it is how I will remember it. Even a brief opening of the truck window for a photo left a chill in my bones that took minutes to subside.

There was virtually no animal sightings on the southbound journey except for the odd flock of ptarmigans. The formations of clouds that threatened to overtake us and dump snow, rain or anything else conceivable were, however, quite frequent. We were luckily in that the weather near the road remained pleasant and we were left with only unique photos of the bad weather that someone or something was experiencing in the distance.

One of my favourite photos from this section of the trip was at a point south of Eagle Plains where we could see a valley that had been previously hidden in a blizzard on our northward journey. It was quite visible this time around, except that there was a low-lying cloud cover that had a very defined elevation - an effect that seemed to produce an atmospheric censor bar. The valley was clear but half-way up the surrounding hills, everything was hidden from view; another first for me.

The tundra-covered lands north of Tombstone Park beckoned, yet again, for photos and several stops produced some great vistas: a mountain reflected in a lake, another lake being touched by a lone ray of sun poking through the cloud cover and a mountain range framed by a hole in the clouds and the Dempster approaching.

We made it to the campground at Tombstone Territorial Park and set up for the night accompanied by the sounds of the North Klondike River rushing past.

End of day ten.

After a relaxing evening of comfort, we got up late in the morning and went exploring. We drove around town and checked out some stores and gift shops, looking for a memento that wasn't too cheesy and wasn't too expensive. I've always enjoyed the NWT 'polar bear' license plate so I picked one up - expensive, no; cheesy, yes...

We stopped in at the tourist bureau in town but found out it had closed for the season. This was typical of our journey, but a sacrifice that meant for the most part a lack of tourist-flooded roads, no shortages of fuel at any stops and more time to actually talk to people. There was a sign in the door directing travelers to an office downtown where they could receive a certificate for driving the Dempster. We'd already chalked one up for reaching the Arctic Circle (they hand them out at Eagle Plains) so we figured we should continue the trend. Downtown and on a second floor we found the tourism office and walked into the middle of a coffee break. Everyone in the office insisted we weren't intruding and given the conversations that ensued, I realized that they had welcomed the exterior influence as it was a great excuse to extend the coffee break. Very friendly people working up in Inuvik, and quite a mixture as well - a local, a Quebecois, a Newfie and an Albertan.

An interesting thing that most people notice about Inuvik is that all the utility pipes (water, sewage, etc) run above ground as a way to deal with the permafrost. This in itself isn't terribly unusual until you start to consider the influence that this change in infrastructure has on the rest of the town's layout. Pipes being above ground must be insulated against the extreme cold that is experienced this far north. You don't actually see the pipes running around town as you see the heating conduits that surround the piping. These, in turn, influence the streets as some roads must bridge over the heated piping. There's a lot to consider in a town where no one has a basement.

As part of our cost saving endeavors we decided this night to cook for ourselves. We found a day-use area with some picnic tables and firepits overlooking the Mackenzie Delta. We received a few strange looks from passerby's given that we were eating dinner on a breezy five degrees Celsius evening, but hey, it was tons better than the $30 Chinese dinner we'd splurged on the night before.

After packing up the campstove and equipment we drove around town a little more just looking at whatever caught our eyes. When the chill of the evening arrived, we retired to the hotel for some comfort and drinks around the fireplace.

End of day nine.

The weather to which we awoke at Eagle Plains was much more pleasant than that to which we had arrived. The sun was shining through a veil of cloud cover and the temperature although cool was pleasant. We packed away a solid breakfast and a healthy dose of coffee and once again hit the road. This time the road was more forgiving as it had frozen up a bit and been freshly graded to the north.

The first stop, only about 30km north, was 66° 33' 39"N, otherwise known as the Arctic Circle. It truly felt special to be able to pass through that level of lattitude, something that Canadians hold so true and integral to our identity. I wish that every Canadian had the opportunity to make the same journey, to cross the same imaginary boundary, to see the great endless expanse of our north...

Whoa, got a little deep there. We took a few photos at the Circle and then hopped back into the truck as we were greeted by the cold breath of the north. Pressing on, we happened upon the second of our grizzly sightings. This one seemed larger than the first and was happily devouring the leftovers from a gutted animal, most likely a caribou taken by hunters. The only company the grizzly shared was a brazen raven partaking in a tiny share of the offal (term I learned from Nat, referring to the entrails of a butchered animal.

Just after driving through Wright Pass (there's a plaque in his honour - he was a highway engineer who surveyed most of the Dempster) we came to the last of the border crossings we would make on the trip, Yukon/Northwest Territories. At this point we'd already seen Alberta/BC, BC/Yukon, and Yukon/Alaska. There was a good deal of snow being blown around and drifting at the pullout, so in addition to taking some photos I took to cleaning off the headlights and the brakelights of the Tacoma. After the Yukon portion of the Dempster and the previous day's rain and snow, there was a significant coating of mud over everything. On top of using some snow, I pulled out the plastic dustpan to aid in scraping away the muddy coating.

Traveling further, we came to the end of the Richardson mountains - the most northern section of the Canadian Rockies. From the last set of foothills we were given a spectacular view of the Mackenzie Delta and Peel River valley. The snow dusted hills disappeared and were replaced with endless forest skirting wide rivers flowing north. We descended into the valley and crossed on the Peel River ferry. A few km's up the road we stopped in Fort McPherson for some needed supplies - especially windshield washer fluid.

The landscape in this northern section of the Dempster reminded me a lot of Northern Ontario. The trees were smaller, of course, but it was that similar forested, swampy land broken only by lakes and the occasional camp or exploration track leading out into the wilderness. After a final ferry crossing, this time of the Mackenzie itself, we were on the home stretch to Inuvik. It should be noted that on such large rivers with vast amounts of water flowing by, the landing berms for the ferries are constant works in progress. Even in Dawson City there was earth moving equipment on hand at the ferry landings to be able to rebuild as needed. The difference between the river at Dawson and the Peel and the Mackenzie was that the equipment on the larger rivers was nearly constantly running to ensure a proper landing zone for the ferry. With fresh gravel and water seeping in from below, there was usually a need for a touch of gas to stay out of trouble when loading and offloading. I was amazed at how easily some of the semis were able to load and offload. Experience obviously counts for a lot.

Before we could celebrate our arrival in Inuvik we were flagged down by a gentleman heading back to Fort McPherson. He'd pulled up with a flat tire in his work truck, a long one-ton, and discovered he had no jack. We lent him the new 20 ton bottlejack we picked up before leaving Dawson and he was back on the road in 20 minutes. Although we'd prepared for the worst conditions ourselves, it was definitely paying off for a few others lacking our good luck. We arrived late in the afternoon to Inuvik and stopped to admire the sign notifying the end of the Dempster. We had made it without major dramas and were left with the debate, "what to do now?", and "do we camp or find a room?". After another long day of driving and near zero temperatures, the decision was easy - spoil ourselves with a comfy bed and warm showers.

End of day eight

With a cloudy sky and cloudy heads, we packed up camp and headed into town for some breakfast/brunch....come to think of it might have been lunch when we finally made it into town. There was a great little cafe open and we were lucky enough to catch them on their last day of the season (we seem to have a knack for that). After the meals and what had to be five or six cups of coffee, we headed past 'Authors on 8th' (the cabins of Robert Service and Jack London; we didn't see Pierre Berton's) and left the historic downtown to venture up the Dome, a rounded peak overlooking the town with an access road right to the summit. Unfortunately, like the Top of the World, the peak was so high up that when we got there we were surrounded by cloud cover. Descending halfway down the mountain to a pullout gave us a view of the giant caterpillar-like piles of gravel left from the dredge's search for gold.

Before finally leaving the last traces of services and stores for several hundred kilometres, we made sure to stop in at one of the great general stores of the north. These places truly carry on the name and the role of the ole time general store. They carry groceries, tools, automotive supplies, and sometimes booze. Our reason for shopping was a second jack. Our experience with helping change a tire on the way to 'the Junction' and the prospect of driving the lonely expanse of the Dempster was enough to convince me that a second jack was a better investment than trying to count on wood or rocks to prop things up while relocating the OEM jack to a lower lifting point. It all sounds a bit redundant but I've changed tires in every sort of weather from the scorching heat of Central Australia to the cold rain of a Canadian autumn and I can honestly say that digging in dirt and mud to fit a jack under a lift point is time consuming and the quickest way to ruin a good travelling day.

Enough preaching though - back to the day's travels. A 30km drive from Dawson is the beginning of the Dempster Highway. Naturally we stopped to get that classic photo of the Dempster sign and read about some of the sites on the info panels....we also had little choice as two large trucks were coming off the highway and the bridge was only a single lane. The first section of the Dempster looks very much like the rest of the Yukon. Hills and mountains, a gravel road following a fast-flowing creek and the bright oranges and yellows of birches in autumn. After 45 minutes or so you enter Tombstone Territorial Park.

Tombstone lies in a transition area. The road wound its way up through the hills, leaving the forested valley behind. What lay before us now was an open tundra plain, skirted by red-coated mountains and filled with low-lying shrubs and lakes. The Demptser Highway, on its 2m berm base, snaked off into the horizon presenting us with a point B barely visible and a thousand picture opportunities ahead of point A.

After many km's of driving and many pictures, the tundra plain was left behind us and we crossed through a range of hills that were snowcapped already. The road descended into another valley, this time framed by black shale cliffs on the westward side and a winding river towards the east. It was at this point that we had our first grizzly spotting. It was a medium sized bear that was foraging for berries or grubs at the side of the road. We drove by slowly and the bear was happy to pose for a few shots.

We continued on and once again the landscape changed as we climbed up towards Ogilvie Ridge and we found ourselves surrounded by rolling hills sparsely covered in short, scraggly conifers. The weather changed dramatically at this point as well, with rain and snow trading turns at pelting down and turning the road to a mess. The previously beautiful, hard packed gravel was replaced with two slushy ruts and a center island of dirt that threatened to scrape at the undercarriage. Visibility was low and for the sake of added control we drove for the first time in 4WD. We plodded along at no more than 60km/h but it paid off where others had issues - a Dodge Ram was spotted off the road, a victim of a nasty slide and a rollover. In the mud coating the driver's door was a simple message - "OK". We eventually made it to the Eagle Plains roadhouse where 5cm of snow and sub-zero temperatures easily convinced us that the price of a room (although expensive) was much better than camping.

A stop in the pub found us chatting to the bloke who'd had the rollover as well as an Australian who'd made it to the Arctic Circle on his motorcycle but been forced to cut short his journey to Inuvik due to the inclement weather. Apparently it is a sketchy situation when ice on a hill leads to a bike sliding downhill on an uphill journey. I did not envy his trip, although I give him kudos for attempting it.

End of day seven

After lots of coffee and waffles we left Tok and headed up to the settlement of Chicken. Rumour has it when gold was discovered and lots of men went in search of their fortunes, many servived by eating Ptarmigan. The town would have been named that, except that no one could spell it, so Chicken sufficed....so the rumour says. When we got there, everything was shut. Closing down for the winter. We did, however, have a great chat with one of the locals. He leaves in Chicken for the warmer months and then heads to California to ranch for the winter. He reckoned he didn't have the same mindset as the 4 or 5 permanent residents of Chicken who spent the winter there despite the roads receiving no maintenance and no plowing from the 1st of October til spring.

We didn't plan on staying for that long either so we got back in the truck after a few photos and made our way up into the hills on the Taylor highway. This road winds its way through the hills and in, around and over several creeks that were running more like rivers due to the recent rainfall.

The highway eventually climbs to the top of the hills which by this point were quite broad and sparsely forested. Although not quite at the US/Canada border where the 'Top of the World' highway officially begins, this was the start of its style of landscape.

Now I'd love to be able to write about the incredible or dramatic views available from the Top of the World...except that we were at the Top of the World on a very cloudy/foggy day. The road itself follows the ridgeline of the hills leaving only a brief view of the hillsides as they plunge away into the foggy abyss. Occasionally, the cloud cover lifted long enough to get a glimpse of a valley snaking off into the mountain range. In the midst of this cloudy kingdom sits the American and Canadian customs building. Built on one of the highest elevations on the highway, it certainly brings to mind a lofty castle and a mighty ruler granting rights of passage through his kingdom.

Coming down out of the clouds, the highway gives a great view of Dawson City and the valley. We took the ferry across the Yukon River and headed into town. Dawson City has done well at keeping its historical feel - there are still wooden plank sidewalks and most of the streets are still gravel. We checked out the info center, found out that we were just in time to catch the last show of the season at Diamond Tooth Gerties and drove around town for a bit and then took the ferry back across the river as we realized that the government campground was again the best choice. A good meal and a few beers later and we walked down to the ferry to once again cross the river to town. Our first stop was the Downtown Hotel to get warmed up and try out a relatively now-famous shooter - the Sourtoe Cocktail. If you wanna learn more about it try here, but the short story is the bar has several human toes (kept in salt and essentially mummified) that are used. The cocktail is drunk with any choice of spirits 80 proof or greater. The toe is added and when the shot/cocktail is taken and the toe must touch your lips. Needless to say, we indulged (when have I ever not indulged in something new and alcoholic?) and became members of the Sourtoe Club. Now, whenever we go back, we get to have the toe in our drinks for free.

After the drinks with apendages in them we decided to head to Diamond Tooth Gerties for the last show of the season (which we would have missed had we been able to drive our itinerary as planned). It was a grand-ole show of song and dance with enough racieness to earn maybe an MA rating. Happy hour started when the last show did - midnight, which was great timing and kept us enjoying the review. The photos are of poor quality but that reflects the choice of spending time to find a good setting on the camera and a steady point on which to rest the camera OR whether to finish a happy hour pint and get another one....

End of day six

The morning was a lazy one in Haines Junction. We got up late...cause we could (on vacation after all). We headed into 'the Junction' to an RV park and had showers and enjoyed the warmth of the laundromat while we did a load to briefly rid our clothes of the 'eau de campfire'. The weather was much nicer on this day and we eventually got back on the road and headed deeper into the majesty of Kluane National Park.

This was a beautiful drive. The mountains seemed much more isolated and worn compared to Jasper and the range of colours was a completely different palette. The intense greens of the conifers in Jasper was replaced with fiery reds and oranges of of the brush as well as golden browns of dying grasses.

The first stop along the way was at the Tachal Dhal (Sheep Mountain) interp center...which was closed. It sits at the foot of a series of mountains/hills that are a form a preservation zone for a large herd of Dall's sheep. They even have a spotting scope mounted there permanently to help view the sheep high up on the hillside. The center is bordered by a flood plain that has formed where the Slim River flows in Kluane Lake.

The highway follows the edge of Kluane Lake westward and passes through Destruction Bay, a small settlement built around one of the encampments created when the highway was being built. The next spot we stopped at was Burwash Landing. It's hard not to stop there as there is a giant goldpan located beside the museum. Giant landmarks are something that Canadians seem to be good at creating; they also seem to work well as I distinctly remember being at Burwash Landing 15 years ago when I was last touring the Yukon.

The weather was perfect for this drive and with blue skies and a bright sun we were able to see some of the taller mountaintops that form the northeast boundary of the St.Elias Mountains. These would have to suffice as Canada's tallest mountain, Mt. Logan (5959m), can only be seen from the air or from a day or two's hike inland.

Canada's most westerly community, Beaver Creek, was another stop and also another great spot to get cinnamon buns. Just head to the tiny little place on the north side of the street. It's got self-serve coffee, a slanted floor (so the drunks can walk as well) and of course, tasty buns.

We spent a few minutes at the border, mostly hopping back and forth between Alaska and the Yukon, before moving on and passing through US customs....always a pleasure (anyone remember the HTML code for sarcasm?).

It had been a long day of travelling (cross the border and get an extra hour to travel) and it was drizzling down by the time we reached Tok, Alaska, so we skipped out on camping and stayed at the Burnt Paw Cabins. Great decision as it was warm, quaint, had a northern theme (our cabin's was Bushpilot) and came with a complimentary breakfast of Belgian waffles with homemade jam.

End of day five

From Teslin it was just a short drive to Whitehorse. The wind was blustery and the clouds hanging quite low so we weren't in much of a touristic mood. We'd had such a good experience with the Liard Hot Springs that we decided to try out the Takhini Springs north of town. Unfortunately, they were closed when we got there (we found out from the friendly owners who invited us back that they open at 4pm). We set up a quick camp and cooked up some brunch and then headed back to town.

Still craving the springs we decided to check out the activities center which was built in 2005 and in 2007 hosted the Canada Games. This place was incredible. Modern, functional and housing a tremendous diversity of equipment, it would certainly provide a way to pass the long, cold winter of the North.

After being refreshed in the hot tub and steam room, we headed back to town for some shopping and a trip to the visitor's center - a requisite stop for all tourists and travellers. I add that second category in as I refuse to be bunched in with the larger, and sometimes more ignorant group that is 'tourists'. Having learned (in Watson Lake) that the border crossing on the Top of the World Highway was closing on the 21st, we now appreciated the information available to travellers. That same information meant that we were now heading through Alaska first, before attempting the Dempster and the trip to Inuvik.

Having picked up most of the supplies we needed, we left Whitehorse knowing that we would return and have more time to enjoy what it has to offer. The road westward beckoned and we started tracing the way on the map to Haine's Junction. We didn't make it very far before we turned off onto a pullout to enjoy a majestic view of the mountains and the incredible colours present in the Yukon autumn. It turned out that this urge for a beautiful photo was good fortune for a young family with tire problems. They were returning home from Whitehorse (with a tire recently fixed for their truck) when a tire on their van blew out in roughly the same area. Two tires in two days - not a good 48 hours for them...and did I mention their jack was broken? Having heard of their plight we grabbed our jack out of the truck and got to work on their problem. It was also good fortune that an older gentleman with an RV was there as well as he provided a second jack (a nice 20 ton bottlejack) to get the van high enough off the ground for the tire to be removed.

I'll say this - the little jack provided in a Toyota is useful, but not practical on its own. It's not short enough to get under the frame when a tire is blown, and when it is, it can't provide enough lift to get the vehicle up high enough to put a new tire on. With a single jack, the options must include something to hold the vehicle propped up while the jack is moved to another lift point. Much easier with two jacks. Back to the story.

We got the donut tire put on, and after tightening all the wheelnuts, Nat kept the younger kids (4 boys under 10!) busy with a donut from Tim Horton's (Mmmmm, Timmy's). The tire was looking pretty flat so I checked it and it was sitting at 17psi - not great with still 30km to drive home. I brought the truck up beside the van and gave the newly installed compressor it's first test. A minute later and the donut had 47psi, the family thanked us and we watched them limp off homeward bound. We now had time to get that photo that was the original intent of our pullover.

A few more pulloffs for photos were needed on the drive to 'the Junction' but we did evently get there and in time to set up camp at Pine Lake (another great Yukon government site) in daylight. It's such a refreshing feeling to set things up, have dinner and a beer and then see the sunset, instead of doing all the above with headlamps on...I know, I know, I should stop rambling on about that....I blame Led Zeppelin.

End of day four

This day wasn't so nice when we got up. It wasn't raining or snowing but it was pretty dismal. We hit the road and spent the next hour it seemed climbing in elevation. We thought at some point we were traveling through a fair bit of fog, but it turned out to be clouds as the road broke through them and we suddenly had an understanding of the height of the road versus the height of the hills around us. The road wound up through the hills and down again finally finding a path along a river in the valley below.

It was here that we saw a sign reading 'the best cinnamon buns in the galaxy' so naturally we had to stop and verify this statement. The location turned out to be the Tetsa River Outfitters - a quaint general store/cafe/gas station. There was a very hospitable lady who invited us in for coffee and gave us the 'just right' heating instructions for one of the largest cinnamon buns I have ever seen. We spent almost an hour there enjoying coffee and the bun and some nice conversation with a couple from Texas building a summer home in Homer, AK. I would have to say upon reflection that their advertising was pretty spot on....

The next big item on the itinerary was Liard Hot Springs. They're located in the BC park of the same name and are a tremendous blessing for the weary traveler. There are two pools located about 700m from the parking lot. The 'beta pool' was closed as a bear was in the area but the 'alpha pool' was relaxing enough. Hot water is forced up through porous limestone and mixes with cooler water to create the hot springs with a range of temperatures. On a generally cloudy and blustery day, the springs were a little piece of heaven on earth.

A few more hours on the road found us in Watson Lake, home to the famous 'Sign Post Forest'. The original post was placed during the construction of the Alaska Highway in 1942 and the trend has continued on with people being encouraged to post their own signs. The result is a collection with more than 60,000 signs. I spent a brief couple of minutes their and could not imagine how much time would be needed to properly explore and appreciate the variety there.

Aside: I'm not sure if you can tell from the photos yet, but I've decided in the spirit of the 'playoff beard', I shall grow a 'vacation beard' for the 2+ weeks that we've got off. But back to the regular story line....

We pressed onwards as we tend to do and made it to the Yukon Government campsite just past Teslin. The site was right on Teslin Lake and other than the sound of trucks coming down the highway the only sound we could hear was the lapping of waves against the beach - peaceful....except for the trucks.

End of day three

We awoke to a beautiful morning in Peuce Coupe with a frosty nip in the air but some warm rays of sun in the sky. As mentioned earlier, we had an appointment in Dawson Creek so we packed up camp and hit the road. By a great stroke of luck, we arrived early and discovered that the Tim Hortons in town was right across from the Toyota dealership. A couple of double-doubles later and we pulled up to Peace Country Toyota. We dropped off the truck and hopped in the courtesy van for a trip to downtown Dawson Creek.

The driver, Ron, gave us a quick tour of downtown, including the Zero Mile Post of the Alaska Highway, and then dropped us off at Cafe Europa. This was a nice little place that made a heavenly cappuccino and a nice grilled ham and swiss croissant. So far, it was a great start to the day. Alas, that was about as long as it lasted. We spent the next 2.5h trying to find someone accreditable to witness a statutory declaration. The copshop was busy, city hall didn't do it, the provincial building pointed us to the sheriff's office where nobody was home. Two law offices were too busy at the time and luckily the third time was the charm...as was a $30 fee for the service. The next 45 minutes was spent at Canada Post trying to send documents and a t-shirt to Australia. A pretty brutal morning spent in Dawson Creek.

Things did perk up a little when we decided to celebrate our accomplishments with a beer. The Alaska Hotel wasn't open yet but we finally found the 'local' that was - Silver's. Located in the Silverado Inn, it was a dark, pool hall/nightclub kinda place. Not much to look at but full of character and it was Toonie Tuesday at the time. Who can argue with $2 for a glass of draught? Not me, even if it was Canadian.

After finishing a few beers we called Ron up and headed back to the dealership. Now, if you'll recall from some previous posts, I'd had the idea to ask the guys at Toyota to try and finish up the install of the dash switch for the ARB compressor that I'd mounted. Bad idea. Turns out it took 1.4h for the guy to do it. 1.4h at the current rate for dealership work of....(drumroll please)...$120/h. Yeah.....not happy. It was done, which was nice, but at that cost, I'd have been willing to buy a multimeter and put in several hours of my own time and I think I woulda come out ahead. The truck was in for a major service which also turned out to be a kick in the pants as prices quoted did not involve supplies or that nasty tax rate that is so much higher in BC than AB. Needless to say, I earned a lot of airmiles with the plastic that morning.

The afternoon was spent driving and we decided to push all the way to Fort Nelson to visit one of Nat's co-workers. We shared in some beer, pizza and Call of Duty 4 before taking a suggestion and camping at a trailhead in town. Anything is better than an RV park. Not to slight all of them, just most of them don't have a great atmosphere for camping. Oh yeah, another night of setting up camp with headlamps.

End of day two