and i hit a bunch of mosquitos.

this is the point in every trip when everybody has had enough. to be followed closely by the second wind, there is always an hour or so where we
loathe the sight of one another.

and then arto's bike wouldn't start.

but with a little teamwork

we were back on the road.

this again.

this is in canada.

whenever harvey is in public, people run from the hills to capture his essence. only to learn that the essence of el diablo cannot be captured.

this charming couple run the koidern river lodge, mile 1164 on the cassiar highway just 23 miles south of the alaskan boarder.

the road was absolutely haywire. with any kind of suspension, it was like riding a skatepark but harvey purposely built himself a difficult bike and
was suffering. he made the rest of us look like sissies.

as we made our approach to the border, patrick and harvey took the opportunity to piss in two countries at once.

and as patrick put it, in dog culture, thereby owning both.

we made it!

there was some confusion at the border, as is beans' habit, for another brandon smith
from canada is wanted for numerous wrongdoings. beans is now used to having guns drawn,
being handcuffed, yelled at and having to explain himself over and over again any time
he tries to leave the country.

and like that, we were in the land of reasonably priced alcohol

and good cigarettes. it's the little things...

we ate dinner, congratulated patrick on being a free man for another week and looked for a campground.

patrick found the "eagle's claw motorcycle park" and it seemed appropriate.

the blogger in the woods.