|Day 15; Saturday, June 12th, 1999
Start: Dawson City, Yukon Territory
End: Whitehorse, Yukon Territory
I sleep in, trying to make up for the last couple of late nights.
Then I head south back to Whitehorse. The weather is great, the roads and scenery pretty much the same as they were northbound four days ago.
I motor leisurely along, no particular hurry, just lost in thought regarding the events of the last several days as the scenery rolls by. It's an entirely different experience alone, not better or worse, just different. I'm getting used to being on my own, bit by bit.
Since it's early, and a Saturday, I get a motel in Whitehorse thinking it'd be nice to go out to a bar, or see a movie, maybe get my film developed at a one hour photo place. Whitehorse seems like a good sized city, it has a shopping center, a Japanese motorcycle dealership, and all the luxuries of a real city. It's also the capital of the Yukon territory, but it's not that big, only about 18,000 people. Seemed big at the time, seemed small when I got home and looked up the population stats in the atlas. All's relative, I guess.
I get a room at a budget motel, shower, and walk down to the local Internet Cafe. It's not the nicest part of town, and the local Internet Cafe seems to be more oriented to gaming, ie, itís dark inside, lots of Star Trek decorations, lots of kids clicking away. For $4/hr. Canadian, I send some e-mail to my wife and friends, and arrange to meet some people in Prince George, BC, that I know through a friend of a friend on the 'net, and then take a walk downtown.
I walk to a bar, have a Margarita or two, but this isn't the magic kind of place that the bar at Eagle Plains was. These people are all city people, or tourists, they're just so, ummm, normal. As I look around, I realize that I could be anywhere back in the States and the people and surroundings would look pretty much the same. Hmm. I decide that maybe it would be more fun to just go for a walk, see what's up, and so I head out the door and up the street.
This particular street has several bars and hotels on it, several have live music, and so there's different tunes blaring out as I walk by each place. I haven't gone very far, when I hear a voice calling out "Excuse me, sir..... sir?"; and from across the street comes a middle aged man with a German accent. He shakes my hand, asks how my trip is going, then explains that he's from Germany, he recognized me from Dawson City the other day, where is my friend? Oh, that... umm.... I explain some of the adventure to him, he's all ears, and then we talk about his trip - he's having a great time, there's nothing like this back in Europe. We talk a bit, and then wish each other well in their travels. Small world.
I head back to the motel, watch a little TV, and fall asleep.