Fairbanks, AK >> Tok, AK >> Chicken, AK >> Dawson City, YT >> Moose Creek Campground, YT 500 miles ridden/14 hours
It was easy riding to Tok, where I confirmed at the library/Visitor Information Center that the Top of the World Highway was indeed open for business, but they were still making the road so it might take a bit longer than expected. Okaaay…
From Tok, I followed the Taylor Highway north to the settlement of Chicken – so named, rumor has it, because no one could spell “ptarmigan,” a game bird that frequents Arctic climes and is nicknamed the “snow chicken” in the U.S. In this desolate area, the quaint three-storefront “downtown” brings a smile to visitors’ faces and provides a good excuse to stop for a spell.
Here I ran into a group of Germans who had ridden up from Arizona(!) with a support truck and a full trailer of parts and supplies in tow; their destination for the day was Dawson City in the Yukon, where campsites and dinner reservations awaited their arrival. So this is how the other half travels, eh?
I guess this is how you spend mandated 2-month vacations… Considering I had the only cruiser within a 100+ mile radius, the Germans asked jokingly if I was lost.
After perusing the local businesses and steering clear of the attack chicken, I pointed my bike for the Canadian border and headed out. The packed dirt road was in much better condition than I imagined given the stories I’d heard, and only twice did I have to wait while a crew of bulldozers, graders, dump trucks, road rollers and other heavy machinery paved a path I’d be the first to travel.
Just before the Canadian border is the outpost of Boundary, the only privately owned land between Chicken, Alaska, and Dawson City in the Yukon Territory, and home to a rustic wooden convenience store, gas station, and airstrip. After filling my tank, I asked the proprietor if I could walk around the grounds and take some photos.
When I finished, we started chatting; turns out he’s originally from Peabody, Mass., (a town about 20 miles north of Boston) and moved to Alaska while in the Army. His son spends summers in Alaska and winters with his mother in Hawaii… What a life! In the winter, this rest stop caters to the snow machine crowd.
When I asked about the solitude, he said: “I’m judge, jury and executioner out here.” Pretty much sums up the frontier attitude. I commented on the weird jut-out the otherwise straight road to the border took and he mentioned this was because he owned that sliver of land. “The state asked me to give it to them, and I told them to buy it off me.” But they couldn’t agree on a price.
The 79-mile Top of the World Highway is one of the most remote roads I’ve seen, although it’s more heavily trafficked than others closer to civilization; during my hour-long stay in Border, six people passed through. Nonetheless, the two Canadian customs agents looked completely bored, and without their satellite dish, I’m sure would be even more so. For once, the packed dirt road actually resembled a “paved” road, and took me through some of the most amazing scenery Canada has to offer.
Once I’d crossed the Yukon River via ferry and made it to downtown Dawson City, I ran into the Germans again. “We thought you broke down it’s been so long,” they said. Ahhhh, that German sense of humor…
Settled in 1896 and the former capital of the Yukon Territory, Dawson City played a key role in the Klondike Gold Rush and in the novel “Call of the Wild” by American author Jack London, who lived there during its heyday. At its peak, the town had a population of ~40,000; nowadays it has fewer than 2,000 permanent residents.
Because of its link to the gold rush, eight of the Yukon’s 12 National Historic Sites are located here. As a result, Dawson City relies heavily on tourism, and its downtown strip reflects the glory of yesteryear. In fact, Diamond Tooth Gertie’s Gambling Hall – Canada’s oldest casino and the only one located in northern Canada – still offers nightly vaudeville shows and plenty of chances to lighten one’s wallet.
At lunch, I skipped the Downtown Hotel’s Sourtoe Cocktail – which features a mummified human toe as a garnish – and hit the road once finished with my appendage-less meal. About 25 miles outside of town I encountered the turn-off for the Dempster Highway, the 250-mile road to the Arctic Circle the Albertans and KTM riders had taken. For me, the road more traveled was calling, so I kept course to the south and made it to Moose Creek Campground outside of Stewart Crossing that night.
