I left Chicken in a steady rain. Some light appeared on the western horizon but unfortunately this storm was blowing in from the SE. I had stopped trying to make sense of the weather patterns here long ago. The potholed road was a treacherous orange mess. Water filled the holes making it impossible to judge their depth. I often crunched into a 6" deep rut, swallowing my 10" wheel and jarring my struggling wheel bearing. Mud covered everything and I ducked my head down as oil trucks passed. I learned this trick on the Dalton Hwy to keep my visor free of mud and rock chips.
Despite the conditions, the view was stunning. I took few pictures with the iPhone but more with my point and shoot camera. I passed many active gold claims and tailings piles left by large dredges.
The road gained altitude until I was fighting off shivers when the wind cut through me. 4000ft and still climbing. I could only travel 12mph up some sections. Approaching the Canadian border, a sign read "Road Work - Next 13 Miles". I feared the worst but rounded a bend to view a glistening ribbon of fresh asphalt stretching over each distant mountain. The rain held off for a short while and I made up some time at 40mph sailing along the Top of the World! The climb up to the border checkpoint was arduous and steep. I approached the gate at WOT going only 10mph. A greyhaired guard emerged from the shack and looked down pitifully on my scooter. "Passport please". He reviewed my information and then asked "Is that a Ruckus?". I told him it was and a brief story of my trip. "Well, that is a first. I've never seen a 49cc scooter up here in all my years."
I felt like I had accomplished something special. It was really only the bike.
I changed out of my wet gloves in a strong wind surrounded by carins on the hilltop. An innokshok stood guard on top of a distant mountain. The remaining 60 miles in Canada followed a much better graded road surface. I was concerned about the ferry service to Dawson City shutting down a 9PM and didn't stop once on the trip. I kept the throttle pinned as I rode through rain and cold tundra landscapes devoid of trees. Soon, the Yukon River valley appeared to my left and I knew I was growing closer to Dawson. I found the ferry on the opposite shore but the two cars and few pedestrians present in the pouring rain of twilight let me know it was coming back. I was going to make it to Dawson City tonight. Unknowingly, I had ridden the whole Top of the World Hwy without taking a break or as many pics as I would have had I known it wasn't dirt from Dawson on south.