What an incredible day of extremes. Not only do I have to put up with Norbert’s verbal diarrhoea, but I have to suffer through every piece of weather that the gods can throw at me. We started off this morning in 40-50km/h gusty headwinds. Then Norbert and I had an argument about peanut butter. I told him I wanted to make it to the next food store at Good Hope Lake by today, but he argued against it. For me it was easily within a day’s ride but for Norbert it would be a long day. And Norbert didn’t like riding too fast as he didn’t like to get a sweat (why the hell he chose to ride a bike then is beyond my understanding). He offered me his remaining peanut butter ration, but me; ever so self-reliant, bloody minded and bloody stubborn wasn’t about to dig into Norbert’s food supply when I possibly had all the food I could need within 60 miles.

It was at this point that Norbert wondered aloud as to how I always seemed to know when the next food stop, albeit rarely open food shop, was going to be. I sheepishly showed him the milepost list that I’d had in place of a map for the past two weeks. He questioned why I had kept it from him, as if it was some sort of betrayal of the trust that we had built up over the last few days. I let out a small bitter laugh and admitted how much it killed me to know exactly at what mileage we would pass another food shop, and have my hopes dashed again and again to find that it was closed. Not good for the psyche.

I walked outside to drink my coffee and found a forlorn, tired looking Norbert sitting, waiting for me. Another guy that had overheard the hunter talking at me walked out of the shop and approached me, smirking,

“What kind of a hunter does he think he is? Mistaking a guy on a bicycle with a yellow helmet for a moose??”

Norbert and I rode in silence today. I was sick of listening to his verbal diarrhoea. Last night as I was setting up my tent, he would just keep talking and talking in a low monotone voice. My hearing’s not so good when there’s background noise, so I kept on having to stop what I was doing in order to listen to what he was saying. But he dribbled on so continuously that it was impossible to set up my tent. I got to the point where I just decided to ignore him and instead just throw a “yep” and a “hmmm” into the equation now and then in order to keep him happy. I eventually climbed into my tent to get out of the wind, and even though I was out of sight, he kept talking. It was only when I quickly threw a “goodnight” into the mix that he finally shut up.

Add to this the pessimism that flows out of Norbert’s mouth constantly and things were starting to get me down. Before riding with Norbert, I’d ride on regardless of the weather ahead. If there were rain clouds ahead of me, I’d not think twice about continuing towards them, and never would I consider bad weather as being an unlucky sort of thing. But with Norbert I’d get a running commentary on the weather ahead and “What have we done to deserve this?” sort of comments thrown about. We’d be riding, soaked to the bone in a drizzling rain and Norbert would feel the need to predict how much worse our situation was about to come; “Looks like there’s bad weather up ahead”, he’d say, pointing to a dark and stormy mass of clouds hovering above the road several miles ahead.

When we got to Dease Lake we stocked up on groceries at a large gas station.

I barely slept last night, it rained a lot. It was a long night. I made an early start in my damp clothes; 7:30am, and got treated to a beautiful sunrise. That was about it in terms of sunshine, as it turned to shit not long after. I struggled to keep my bike straight on the muddy road. I stopped for a chocolate milk at a small town and was kept company by a hungry looking husky. The wind picked up and it felt like I was riding into 50km/h headwinds with spitting rain to boot.

Further down the track I found an empty camping ground. I asked the man at the gas station whether I could take a shower, my first since Whitehorse. I was trying to recall the last time I’d ever smelt someone with as much body odour as me. I came up blanks. It was a proud moment.

The shower was one of those coin operated ones and it ran out just as I was washing my legs. It was still heavenly though. I would have thought the hot water would restore the feeling in my toes, but they just stayed numb. They’re still a healthy looking pink though, so I assume it can’t be too bad. I had to wash my hair three times to get the mud out of it.

It rained a helluva lot last night, my cooking stove, which I always leave out with my breakfast grits soaking, was floating in a puddle of water. I made an early start again, with a constant rain that had not let up since yesterday. All my clothes were still wet from yesterday (or was it the day before?). I was ready to give up. It was crazy to suffer like this. I was ready to pull out my “TIRED AUSSIE NEEDS RIDE” sign once again. The Cassiar highway had beaten me. And yet I was now riding through some of the most spectacular scenery I’d seen for a while. I couldn’t care less. I hadn’t pulled out my camera for days; the effort and time needed to let the camera lens demist while my fingers quickly froze was not worth it, even with this spectacular beauty all around me. The messy mud road was destroying my spirits and sounded like it was destroying my bike. I could barely ride for a mile without the chain starting to slip because of the mud. According to my map I had another 30-40 miles of it to go.

I finally got to the Bell 2 gas station. I decided that I’d hang around the entrance for a while and see if I could find someone to give me a lift to the end of this damn highway, and even further if possible. I went inside and bought some Snickers and two coffees and got myself warm. By the time I walked out, the rain had lifted and the sun was trying to burn its way through the clouds. It was like someone was teasing me to go on, or maybe deciding to give me a little bit of slack. I got back out onto the road and to my excitement found that my map was out of date. I’d expected mud for miles but was treated to a freshly paved road. I even managed to get up quite a bit of speed for the first time in ages. On one of the downhills, not paying so much attention, I spotted a mother bear and its three cubs just beside the road. I almost fell off my bike in surprise. The three cubs ran for cover, the mother took a few steps to follow them and then stopped and watched me. I kept going, now with a shit-eating grin on my face. When I stopped at my next rest stop, the woman I’d been talking to at Dease lake showed up and offered me her mixed fruit and nuts. The world conspires…