Patagonia Pete

Felt like quite a hard day in the saddle because of the strong headwind, but made about 85km to reach Dease River Crossing. There’s a campsite here and that’s it. The next big stop is Dease Lake which is only about 65km down the road, but it’s the main ‘town’ on the Cassiar. It’s true that there are no places to get food on the Cassiar, apart from at Dease Lake, but that said you don’t have to load yourself up like it’s a bank holiday weekend where the shops may be shut for one day longer than normal, and ooh do you think the bread will last? No, a few pot noodles and a little stove will see you right as ninepence. I’ve yet to try the freeze-dried, back-woods, only-use-it-if-you-haven’t-shot-your-supper chicken curry, but it actually looks quite nice. I may eat it in a hotel instead of room service.
The scenery along the Cassiar is certainly breathtaking, but when you’re cycling, and you’re looking at the same bit of breathtaking scenery for quite a while then, well, it’s a long time to have your breath taken from you, especially if you’re trying to pedal up a steep bit of it. I think most of the travel guides have been written with car speeds in mind, and not the often pedestrian cyclist’s speed.

Oh, I forgot to include the other division of vehicles in my hierarchy (see Day 13) – the motorcycle. As far as a cyclist is concerned, this category breaks down to two types – those that wave and those who don’t. And this generally polarizes the different type of bikers and their bike. The ones who wave are the ones on the fully kitted out, trans-continental, all-terrain tourer. Think Ewan McGregor and his mate going round the world. Now whether it’s all show and they are, in fact, just popping up the road for twenty Bensons, I can’t tell, but they certainly throw a spirited wave my way.
The ones who rarely wave are, and I know I’m in for all sorts of trouble if they read this, almost without exception Harley riders. Just too cool to wave. Too cool to have the right tyres. Too cool to where the right clothing. Cool, but totally in the closet! Harley Davidsons are camp bikes! There I’ve said it. And I certainly don’t mean it in a pejorative sense. It’s just that the owners of them don’t seem to realize the whole Village People thing going on. Leather trousers (I saw chaps at one diner), handle-bar moustaches and often fetching neckerchiefs. Screaming! Maybe I’m wrong, and the reason they’re not waving is that underneath the cool shades they’re winking at me as I Lycra past them!

There, hope that’s cleared up the whole Alaska Highway Hierarchy situation.

Love

Pete