Canada Leg- Bear Country
Top 3 Rides ever!
Canada – Day One (Day 4): Osoyoos to Prince George
This was my first time in Canada during this season since the ‘80s. I had already put over 1,100 miles behind me, and this leg alone would stack another 1,700+ on top. The last few days had been a mix of warm mornings and hot afternoons. Everything ahead was uncharted territory until the AL-CAN farther north.
I rolled out of Osoyoos just after 6:30 AM, like I had every morning so far. But this one was different—sharper. I’d guess it was around 58 degrees. Not two miles out of town, I spotted a mama bear and her cubs. one of the cubs made it up a nearby tree. I had no idea this was just the beginning. By the end of this stretch, I’d counted over 20 bears, 3 moose, a wolf, a porcupine, a coyote, and more squirrels than I could dodge. At one point, I had to lay on the horn just to clear them from the road—they scattered like roaches under a kitchen light.
I’ve swum with sharks in the Pacific before, but splitting two bears on a bike, both within arm’s reach, is a different kind of adrenaline. Nothing really prepares you for that.
The ride north took me through Fraser Canyon. One word: AMAZING. I’ve ridden in multiple countries, and this stretch easily ranks in my top three roads—worldwide. Every corner opened up into another cathedral of stone and sky. Plenty of semi-trucks kept the pace moderate, but that just gave me more time to soak it in. The road was in excellent condition all the way through 100 Mile House.
I made it a habit to stop every 100 miles or so—stretch, breathe, and start watching for gas. Premium was about $6 a gallon, and up here, that’s just what it is. Cell service? Don’t count on it. Most of this stretch had zero signal. I carried a Garmin InReach with SOS and highly recommend doing the same. You don’t need to stop at every gas station, but skipping two in a row? That’s just dumb.
Rolling into Prince George felt like finding safe harbor. A warm shower, a dry bed, and hot food were waiting—and that’s all I needed.
The Far North Grind
Bear Country
Day 5: Prince George to Stewart
This was definitely the grind.
The weather had turned. Had to be about 48°F in the morning—not unbearable, but enough to pull the Gore-Tex rain gear over full leathers just to hold some heat. This section of the ride turned into one of the most beautiful stretches of the entire trip, but it came at a price. On-and-off rain all day. Some parts worse than others. I didn’t stop much. I was making tracks. The road demanded it.
Right around now, I was thinking a full-face helmet would’ve been a real treat. But then again, taking stinging raindrops to the face felt like a kind of baptism. I asked for this. And this was the price.
Gas stops were spaced perfectly with leg-stretch breaks. That became the rhythm—and it was only going to get more critical the closer I got to the border. I picked up a 5-gallon can in Prince George and strapped it to the bike. Only filled it with three gallons, but it fit nicely and stayed stable. Checked the oil, checked the lights, then hit the road. 450 km to Stewart—and that was 35 minutes in the “wrong” direction. But up here, options are limited. And I’m glad I made the leg. Glaciers. Wasn’t prepared for that.
The road from Meziadin Junction to Stewart was a preview of what was coming. Found a cool little spot in Stewart for food and a warm bed. Pizza joint dinner. Clean bed. Done. That was the end of day 5.
Day 6 The Far Northern Grind
Woke up at 5 a.m. again—no alarm needed. Haven’t used one the whole ride. From Vegas to here, I’m up by 5:30, on the road by 6:30. Ride all day. Eat, shower, plan the next leg, journal the day’s hits. Check in with home. Sleep by 9. That rhythm became sacred.
This ride had challenges, but never once did I think I didn’t want to be there. I was glad to be in this place. And I never forgot that this journey started the moment I opened the cam chest almost two years ago to replace the cam chain tensioners. What a trip it’s been—but no time to reminisce. The road isn’t done yet.
The theme of the day: bears.
The roads? Great. Conditions? Manageable. The plan was to hit Whitehorse… but the weather had other ideas.
Gas stations became little oases. Plenty of RVs and bikes out there—but not many like mine. Now many Pan Am types. Gas prices were going up, restrooms getting rougher, options getting slimmer. Things were starting to feel... rustic.
Rain came in waves—some of it storm-level bad—but I managed to pull over and let the wind carry most of it off. When the skies cleared, the land lit up. Absolutely stunning. I did around 850 km that day. That 850 km felt more like 800 miles!!! One of the hardest pushes yet.
When Canada Hwy 37 dumped me onto the Alaska Highway, I hit Goal #2—familiar ground. I left the rain gear on at that point. I was tired of pulling over. And it was cool enough that I wasn’t sweating it.
Thirty miles outside Teslin, I could see it building—bad weather ahead. I slowed to let it pass, but it wasn’t slowing. So I tightened up, leaned in, and pushed through. It was the worst storm yet. No cars. No bikes. Just me and the madness.
And then—like flipping a switch—I dropped into the lee side of the hill and rolled into Teslin. It was alive. People rushing to get settled before the storm circled back.
Pulled into the gas station/restaurant/campground/hotel combo. Asked about a room.
“Last one,” he said.
That was it. That was the end of Day 6. I was mentally and physically spent. The Cassiar had delivered some of the most beautiful terrain on the ride… but the weather had stolen part of it. I wasn’t mad—just worn. Thankful to be alive in the root sense ot the word.
Somewhere along the way, I wrapped my boots in trash bags to keep them dry. Got plenty of compliments on ‘em. Functional. Stylish. Effective.
From now on, they’ll be known as… Teslin Booties.
Northern Grind Pics
