First, some photos to catch up for the past few days of limited connectivity.

Yesterday on the way from Whitehorse I ride out to the airport. There parked with absolutely zero security are the Snowbird’s Tudor jets, two Lockheed Hercules, an airforce Canadair CL 604 executive jet, two Caribous, a P 3 maritime Search and Rescue aircraft plus a few helicopters. This is all part of a “ show the flag” mission run by the airforce to bring what it does to people in remote areas. They have been all over the northern areas of Canada during the past two weeks.

On the way back I stop off at the amazing signpost forest and then head off for Teslin some 280 kms away. An easy ride. It will take me less than 3 hours and I will be there by 13h00. So time for a bit of dawdling. The road is excellent with a few gravel patches. The trickiest bit is over the bridges, many of which have either a wooden or a grated metal sheet floor. The front wheel feels as if it is in a rut and it is very disconcerting as it sways back and forth. The technique required to have a happy rider and mount is to stand, hands very lightly on the handles, legs away from Bonnie and then let her sway and buck, as she needs to, every so often a gentle touch to get her back in the right direction. It is also important, as always, to keep the forward momentum going otherwise there is the ever-present danger of slipping out of the slot and off.

My home for the next day and a half is a small cottage on Lake Teslin. This lake is fed by the Yukon River and is about 70 km long. It is home to some of the finest Lake Trout, Grayling and at the right time of the year salmon fishing in Canada. So much so, that one of the two other cottages on the lake are occupied by a group that has flown all the way from Toronto via Vancouver and Whitehorse, to fish here. They have been here for a week and have averaged trout of just over 8 lbs with the biggest being close to 15 lbs. Much like our experience at Lake Taupo in New Zealand all of the fishing is done out of boats and involves spinning and trolling.

The other cabin is occupied by a couple from the Gulf Islands, near Victoria Island BC. They are touring together on a motorbike. Two up and my age! There is hope for me.

The Dawson Peak resort is situated on the Alaska Highway near the town of Teslin. Teslin is a very important area in the life cycle of the Coho Salmon, for it is here where they come to spawn.

They swim here all the way from the Bering Sea. This involves a distance of nearly 2000 miles, up against the flow of the Yukon River. They do not feed at all on this mammoth swim, relying only on their own fat reserves. On arrival at the gravel beds they spawn, fertilize their eggs and die. This starts a cycle. The rotting carcasses feed small aquatic animals. The eggs hatch and the fingerlings start to feed off the very same aquatic animals. They then spend about a year in the river and this lake. Then driven by the forces of nature, they swim down the Yukon all the way to the Bering Ocean, off the west coast of Alaska between it and Siberia. This is where Max crossed from the Russia into Alaska on his bicycle.

They spend between six and seven years in the ocean, until once again nature calls and it is time to breed and die. So they swim back up the river to where they were born and the process begins all over again. Imagine, I think, if we knew that the act of making our children would result in our certain death. I wonder how many less children there would be? On the other hand the drive to procreate is so strong, and us humans so over confident that we would probably believe we could cheat the grim reaper.

I have been away from home for six weeks and without a woman for at least that long. So a ride to take a look at Whitehorse, where there are more than a thousand fit and probably over sexed young woman partaking in the Woman’s World Fastball Championship, is playing on my mind. I figure I would qualify as a really fast ball!

I weigh up the risks of knowing there is no accommodation and not, under any circumstances wanting to spend a night in a tent, on my own apart from a million mosquitoes versus what I will potentially get out of it. I weigh it up and my scale of 1 – 10 of potential trouble and strikeouts. It would be in the middle.

Definitely not a 10, which is an indiscretion, such that if you are caught doing it or admit to doing it if not actually trapped in situ,  –  will result in a definite “OUT”. This entails collecting your marching orders, most probably without even the right to first come home and collect your kit. At best, a limited selection of non-matching, out of date and unwashed stuff will be at the top of the drive in a smelly kit bag, waiting for you.

So what comprises a 10?

At this point I just want to add that everything is purely theoretical. Merely the musings of a Biker Pilot in the middle of the Yukon, with nothing better to do. All my examples also assume that no one who lands up in this situation is gay. The reason for this is, if you are caught with someone of the same sex and you are involved in what your partner believed to be a strictly heterosexual relationship, it is definitely “time over” , forget just strike out.

Before all the girls get uptight, I have written these musings from a male perspective and you are welcome to substitute brother in law for sister in law, brother for sister, Wife’s best friend for Husband’s best friend, daughters gorgeous friend for son’s hulky jock or tennis pro friend etc.. I fully accept that what is good for the gander is also good for the goose.

It is also written tongue in cheek and for a good laugh although it may touch some raw spots. Life is life and this stuff happens. As the pilot motto goes – “There are only two types of pilots, those who have done a wheels up landing and those who are going to do one”. Shit happens to everyone.

So a definite 10  and probably top of the list is being caught in a very compromising position with your sister in law or mother in law. “Compromising” is not just sitting close to each other or touching. It is clothes off, in flagrante delicti. For the non-Latin speakers this is in the act of fertilization. There are no extenuating circumstances or plausible excuses. The old Japanese adage that “ I had too much to drink and a different person, who looked like me was the culprit, will not wash.” Nor does claiming you were wearing a condom and therefore no intimate touching was involved. Offers for your spouse to join in the fun will inflame the situation. Do not try this line under any circumstances whatsoever. Probably the best thing to do is to put on a Yarmulke as quickly as possible and start praying.

This situation is not going to be an issue in my life. Darling has three sisters. The oldest, Mimi has been like a mother to me. Listening to Simon and Garfunkel on the road had me thinking about this. Many, many years ago, as a 18 year old I had my Mrs. Robinson moment. It was not with Mimi. Mimi does not fit the bill. So no worries here.

Sister no 2, Coo. 35 years ago this was potentially a risk. She and I dallied in our single years, briefly. A kiss here and a touch there. Nothing serious. Then her taste went down hill. Friends of mine at UCT, all of inferior breeding. Then for years the waifs and strays. Every lost cause in the Cape. Then the good-looking idiots with the big schlongs and finally the teddy bears. So scratch her out as well.

Then the baby sister, Peta. Once this was very dangerous. We worked together. She was good looking (as all the sisters are – Mimi and Coo were but are now packing a few too many pounds) and highly efficient, something I always find very attractive. However we have not spoken until recently, for about 20 years, as a result of a work related fall out. I do not think she has suddenly grown to like me so much that a new danger exists.

So no worries here. No risk of a 10 strike out for Biker Pilot

Then onto the 9’s

Firstly, at the top of the 9’s is being caught with your wife’s best friend. Once again you are probably going straight out the door. An offer to join in is an outside possibility, worth a try but one which will, for sure, only delay the inevitable. Fortunately I have no problems here for I do not do morning mass and best friend does not really like me much. Also I do not do Hail Mary’s for performances that are not up to scratch. Flagellation is not in my nature.

The best friend sex is arguably the cause of more relationship break ups than that due to any other party and there are logical reasons for this. Both parties know each other very well. They feel comfortable with each other and probably know when things are not going along swimmingly at home. Expert judges at when it is a  good time to offer a friendly shoulder to cry on, especially if best friends home fires are also not glowing brightly. From there onwards it is a slippery slope into a slippery place.

I know this for sure, as this is the position my sister found herself in with ex husband and now decidedly ex best friend. Hell hath no fury in circumstances like this.

Sometimes I wonder why, particularly if it is “sport sex” involved as opposed to “love sex”. Better to know where everything has been and with whom, rather than with some random and potentially high risk unknown third parties. This is why the French have and accept mistresses and dalliances with known third parties.

A close second in the 9’s, is being caught with daughter’s, or if you are a woman with son’s best friend. Here an invite to join is just going to piss her off, as would an invite to join wife with son’s strapping jock friend, upset me. The comparison makes it difficult to perform. Top of my concerns would be my being Rogered by strapping Jock if he was an ex St. Johns, Michaelhouse or Bishops boy whilst I was trying to show Darling who the real man was.

I think there is an outside chance to talk one’s way out of this situation, as it one could reasonably claim to have been a case of a momentary lack of concentration and there cannot be a long term future, hence no real worries for Darling. A period of suitable penance will be needed. Great attention to home details and when the moment comes, an epic performance.

Daughter or son’s best friend will never again be welcome or spoken about. This is always a very high-risk area when you are as young as I am and the girls are only between 25 and 30 years younger. This is not much different to the age differential between my mother and father. In fact my mom was the same age as his two nieces were. He regarded and treated them as his own children. She could easily have been one of their friends. If this ever happens to me I will be sure to turn to her for advice.

Younger Daughter’s best friend – darling would have to understand

Son’s jock friend. A big worry!

I will finish the 9’s and some of the lesser levels in later blogs and then consolidate them in one table, for I have been invited to go fishing with the group of Canadian guys next door. There are five of them, Bill, Paul, Darryl who is coming to South Africa to hunt in February, Chris and Larry.

A few minutes before starting to write this I had walked down to the water to talk to a group of canoeists who had paddled in. They had been on a 7-day expedition. Dropped off by floatplane some 50 miles down stream somewhere, they had paddled and camped their way to this point and had apparently had a great time. Everyone was still talking to each other. They saw wolves with cubs, moose galore and bears. This is an Orange River trip on steroids.

One of the guys, there are two guys and two girls plus the guide, tells me he loves South African wine, He is a Pommie, Mike is his name and he owns and runs a restaurant called Pollyanna on Victoria Island. I tell him about Miss Molly. He also likes Weimeraners. I leave him a Le Quartier card as I am almost out of Môreson cards and still need some for some meetings in Whitehorse and Anchorage.

Harold, he has the new Nikon D800 camera. You do not need a D4. Check this piece of kit out.

We only return from the fishing at 23h00 and the sun is still shining. I did not catch anything but some of the guys caught some Lake Trout, all about 10 lbs. in size and full of fight. The scenery is magnificent with the peaks of the Dawson Mountains in the background, still snow covered. It is hot when we go out but rapidly cools off. In my haste not to miss the boat I am not properly equipped. Fortunately Bill from Halliburton Ontario, near Toronto, does not feel the cold and lends me his warm top. Thank you Bill.

We talk about the real estate market and the effects of the meltdown on peoples futures and retirements. We discuss fishing, which is what these guys live for, spending more than 50 days a year beating the water. I think that now that I have  a bit more time, I need to do more of it as it is something that I really enjoy. Maybe I can really live by the ideal of only “eating what I hunt, catch or grow”? I know Arnie is always a bit of a “poeftha “ with his gardening, but the idea of a world class vegetable garden appeals to me.

This blog has to end. It is 09h00 and I need to get to the small restaurant here, as that is where the Internet connection is. Dave and Caroline, who have built, owned and run this place over the past 21 years, are clearly nearing the end of their time here. Once a passion, they have no children to pass it on to, I suspect it is now a mission. Caroline used to run a full service restaurant, but now restricts it to breakfast and a very limited menu for lunch and dinner. On Sundays it is breakfast only and it ends at 10h00 sharp.

The season here is very short. The Lake starts freezing in early September and by December the ice is 6 feet thick. You can drive a truck across it. It has ice in it until early June. As long as the days are now, so are they short in December. The economic meltdown has meant a precipitous drop off in American tourists in the huge RV’s, with money borrowed against then overvalued properties burning holes in their pockets and Alaskan trips in their dreams.

I suspect that Dave and Catherine are also, like so many others, about to find out that the property that they have built and nurtured is worth a whole lot less that they believe. That is if they can sell it at all. All along the route there are similar places that have simply shut down. They tell me they do not intend selling it for now and will wait for prices to improve. In the interim they will not open it from next summer as they want to spend these short months exploring the Yukon and Alaska, not working here. This place does have the lakefront. Maybe this would be the place for our summer North American family camp I muse. It is too far and the water is too cold.

So if you see this post I have been successful in uploading it from the restaurant area. I will spend the balance of the day reading and writing. There is nowhere to walk and far too many mossies.

On the way up to breakfast I stop and talk to Lindsay and Marian. They are my neighbours, the retired couple from Pender Island which is next to Salt Spring Island (near Vancouver Island). They are on a KTM 990, a bike similar to Bonnie. They have traveled a bit over 30k kms on it in the 20 months in which they have owned it. Notice it is not a “her” as KTM’s, although great adventure bikes, do not have the personality of a BMW. They are Austrian and hence a bit sexless. One of my first real rides was on an Austrian and the memories have not etched themselves favourably. Marian rides her own bike but prefers to sit behind Lindsay on the big trips. They are heading to Anchorage, Fairbanks and then Inuvik, which is on the Arctic Circle. We discuss long trips and mine being solo.

She tells me I have to have someone with me to share the trip with and to keep me warm at night. I tell her that I know this. She also says it is important also to have “someone to tell you what to do when things go wrong”!

Later on they join me for breakfast. We have a fascinating discussion about SA and Canada. Lindsay did business in SA and with South African companies in his former life as an executive with Alcan. We are then joined by Dave, the owner of Dawson Peak. Dave knows a good friend of theirs. They discuss their various trips into China in the late 60’s, Thailand before Phuket was a tourist mecca, South America. Trips Dave and Catherine are planning in the Yukon by boat and motorbike. Dave’s history of coming here, about 39 years ago. Building the lodge, being attacked by and shooting bears on the patio. It is fascinating and will be the subject of my next blog.

Then Marian climbs on behind Lindsay, wraps her legs around him, gives him a pat on the back and off they go. I am very jealous. We will probably cross paths again on this trip.

So from Teslin in the Yukon.

Good Morning and good luck.