My evening on Sunday, July 7, at the Discovery Yukon Lodgings was very short, but that was fine.

The fact that I got about four and a half hours of sleep contributed to what I was doing that night.

None of the campground office staff was there when I arrived and none was there when I left. Nobody else was moving either, so I hit the road and pedaled out to see what a nearby fire had done overnight. I will mail the campground a check.

Since it was Sunday, as much as 20 minutes went by between seeing vehicles.

Smoke hung heavy in the air. And it still does as I write this 94 miles from where I started.

I saw a rest stop with several people still camping there and soon found a young firefighter blocking the road. She said, “We are letting people through for now, as you can see, not a whole lot is still burning actively. Just keep moving and watch for fire vehicles.”

I did just what she said and was astounded. For at least five miles on both sides of the road and as far as I could see, the forest was in some stage of actively burning, smoldering or just smoking. The air was thick with smoke, and to see this for the first time was surreal.

I am amazed at what these firefighters do.

My first real stop was to see Liane, who works at the Beaver Creek Visitor Center. Beaver Creek is the westernmost town in Canada and is 21 miles from American Customs for entry into Alaska. I was going there later.

Liane told me a bunch of tips, and one of them was that the upcoming Northway Junction Truckstop had camping. I counted on that all day.

I stopped at one of the several marts or small stores and bought some baked goods at way overpriced rates. I remain incredibly hungry.

I rode on to the U.S. customs entry and went up to the front of the line. Two guards waved me in. One of them asked about my trip and whether I had seen the fires. By that time, he had me processed through. That was all it took.

I got my photo taken with the “Welcome to Alaska” sign and pedaled on in. The road was just OK and immediately started climbing quickly. I was shocked at how challenging the road was. All of this was still on the Alaska Highway, but it was now actually in Alaska. The road got progressively very bad.

I was tired when I finally saw the truck stop. Nobody was there and, in fact, I am not sure it is a truck stop anymore.

Several things happened. My first thought was to get back on the bike and ride about 50 more miles to Tok, the town where I hoped to spend Monday night.

I saw a guy pull out of the fish and game buildings, claiming he didn’t know anything about the place. He felt bad enough to tell me where the outside water is and I filled up. He said, “Now don’t tell anybody I told you this.” I thought they should know.

As I was about ready to leave, I realized there was still two picnic tables and disconnected RV lines at the former truck stop. I decided to type my story, set up the tent for another five hours or so of sleep and then get an early start Monday.

We’ll see if anybody comes by to complain.

Some other things are happening. Two panels have torn in my tent, and I hope it will hold out till the adventure is over. Also, I am planning the extra adventure, what happens when Amber and Jamie go home.

David Freeze is a Salisbury Post contributor who is biking from Nevada to Alaska. He can be reached at runner.david.freeze@gmail.com while on his journey.

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