Medenhall Malemots B&B to Whitehorse

Exceedingly hot - 38 deg?

Today was another depressing day, let down by our bikes once again. Our aim was to make it to Watson Lake, over 500 km away. Instead we only ended up in Whitehorse a mere 75 km further on.

The road out of Whitehorse is delightful. First we cross over the Yukon River again which to
the south - to our right - is in the form of a huge lake which then funnels under the bridge into a narrow gorge en route to Whitehorse. Then a few kilometres further south we round a corner and descend a hill to the edge of another massive lake - Marsh Lake - whose length seems to disappear over the horizon.

But more bad news is still to come - 50 km further south, as I was accelerating up a hill, the back wheel started to wobble wildly. It had gone flat again, all of a sudden.

So we pull off the road, in the blazing sun, and set to work removing the wheel. Quicker this time. A guy is walking up the hill towards us, wearing a moth-eaten blue T-shirt. At first sight he looks a bit like a hobo. Turns out his name is Keith. He lives just 3 miles up the road, and when he gets home he'll come straight back with his car to help us. He'll be back in 45 minutes. 45 minutes? No way. Half an hour later he turns up in a new Mustang, wife at the wheel - by coincidence she'd driven past him. They whisk Jeff, the offending wheel and the two inner tubes away while I stand guard over the bikes and all our worldly goods, spread out over twenty yards on the hard shoulder.

Deflated Tyres
After about 45 minutes they return. Both inner tubes have been tested under high pressure. A tiny leak was found in one and none was found in the other. So that was put back on the wheel, the tyre inflated to 50% higher than normal pressure, and submerged in water looking for leaks. None. So now we have a wheel with a tyre that is air tight. Put the wheel back on and by 4:30 we are on our way again. Let's see how we can get before we decide to stop.

10 kms further up the road, that decision is made for us. As I ride along, the rear tyre suddenly deflates again, for the third time. Imagine how we feel. Imagine how our confidence in these bikes has been destroyed. We expected these problems in Latin America, not here in North America.

We have no option but to set about taking the wheel off for the third time. This is really remote countryside, and it's still unbearably hot. There aren't any phone boxes every mile in case of emergency. You're on your own. But by now we're getting really good at it. Wheel off and tyre removed in 35 minutes! I repair the original inner tube which, at the last stop, was found to have the tiny hole. We fit that one. Everything is going really well until we notice that it's impossible to line up the wheel to put in back in again. We keep jacking up the bike. What we had forgotten to notice was that the bike's side stand was slowly sinking into the tarmac heated up to almost melting point in the intense heat. Just as the bike was about to roll over, Jake turns up. He's riding a Kawasaki GTR1000 with ALL his worldly goods piled up high on the back of his bike. He's from Tennessee, in his early 20s and is off up to Anchorage to seek his fortune on the crab fishing boats. We had 12 days of reading the Daily News-Miner while in Fairbanks and knew that they had just reduced the crab fishing fleet substantially, laying off loads of people. We broke this news to him gently. Never mind, he said, there's plenty of work up there. I'll find something. You've got to admire his spirit!

He turned up just in time, because the bike started to collapse - on Jeff. We managed to to lift the bike up with Jeff suffering only minor damage (Jake lifting about 90% of the weight!), then he had to dash off just before his bike was about to collapse because of the same problem - my God was it leaning to one side. That sorted, he said he'd wait so that could accompany us on our ride back to Whitehorse. Back?! We've never been BACK before! But we both realise that we have no option. After all, Whitehorse is the capital of Yukon Territory, with a population of 22,000. There will be motorcycle and tyre specialists there that can help us out.

Fingers crossed and we'll get back. Which, to my utter amazement, we did. We bid farewell to Jake. But not before he eyes up a passing posses of schoolgirls, and he disappears into the night. Even though, of course, it's still daylight.

Hotel Check-In
We quickly find a cheapish hotel (after two other tries). The receptionist says to me "Do you

want to check the room before you take it?". Why? "Well it's been 38 degrees here today and we don't have air conditioning." Very honest, I thought, but better check it. It wasn't too bad, so we take it.

A shower has never been more greatly appreciated. And despite being very careful by applying sun cream at each of our three roadside incidents, we have clearly both caught the sun a bit.

Dined at Chickahoot, the only place that seemed to be open in downtown Whitehorse. It's sort of OK, but at least it was sustenance. Downed several beers as consolation. Back to the hotel to sleep, despite the heat. And we slept for hours!

Graham has accurately reported the last six hours of our life. However, I have to say that our spirits have been seriously dented. I feel somewhat desperate: I am, at least I like to think I am, a logical person yet the last two Jonas strikes have been mysteries. On each occasion, the inner tube has been shown to be faultless, so why did it suddenly deflate? I have been riding bikes for 43 years and I have never been stopped by a puncture but we've just had three in one day, two of which cannot be explained, at least by me, since the inner tubes were intact.

Jeff 20.06.04