Day 3 Extended:
I posted up my last post in the early evening, but what transpired later is worth writing about.
Later that evening, a older gentleman pulled up to my camp spot on a Harley, got off, and came over while I was making my dinner.
He came over, asked where I was from, where I was going, all those common questions that one seems to be asked (and ask) up here.
I told him where I was going, and he went on to telling me about Dawson in the early 60’s.
During the days of the gold dredging that took place, and how he worked on the dredge. To me, this was very interesting, mainly due to my dad having a fascination with large machinery, which in turn I guess a little of that rubbed off on me.
He told me of the days before the paved roads, the harsh times, and the long hours worked.
After a bit, I asked where he was headed.
Come to find out, he lived in Dawson Creek. He said he likes to once in awhile, stroll the campground looking for motorcyclists heading North on their adventure, bid them safe travels and to ride safe.
Ken Sutherland, the man I spoke to, was a fascinating individual, something I have come to notice as I travel on this so far on this journey, although still in its infancy, I have met many wonderful people along the way.
The stories that are told, the places people have been, and the places they come from. It truly helps pass the time in the evenings, and during the day at stops, and allows you to truly understand how remarkable human nature can be.
Carrying on further with that evening, another motorcyclist ended up tenting next to me.
Doug from Reno Nevada, riding his BMW K1200LT to Anchorage as a bucket list item of his.
At the age of 67, Doug has many wonderful life stories, including his days working for Bell Corporation, from which he retired working as a lineman. Or, as he put it, a jack of all trades.
Working in the smaller rural area’s of Nevada, he was not only responsible for build out, service hookups and maintenance, but collecting coins from the machines as well.
He said he never had a day ever the same. It was what kept him with that job for over 35 years until he retired.
Doug invited me over later on for a beer, and some conversation. Doug was preparing his dinner, and preparing it on a very old white gas hiking stove.
And when I say it was very old, I mean, it was very old.
The fuel tank as well as the upper burner was completely made of brass. The years of oxidation on the brass have given it a slight patina, making it just look remarkable. A true piece of workmanship from whatever era it was built. Simple in design, you actually light a fire on top of the fuel tank to warm the tank up to allow the gas evaporate and expand. The same principle now used on the Optimus Stoves, but instead of gas burning on the tank, we now have it burn below the nozzle and allow air pressure from a pump to force the pressure.
After talking with Doug for awhile, and him cleaning up his dinner, and myself finishing a beer I continued on to take some photo’s of the sunset over Dawson Creek, as well as the moon in the sky.
Shortly after, it was time for me to go to bed.
As I sat in my tent, collecting my thoughts for the day, it occurred to me. Although this trip may have started out to be an Adventure to the North, it has become a completely separate adventure for me.
Seeing not only the world outside of what I have seen before for the first time, I have, also come to realize that the people surrounding us, have the ability to provide us stories that will take us on an adventure all in itself.