Back in California, my buddy told me about Dawson City when I mentioned I would be riding through the Yukon. His band played at their summer festival a few years back and said it was a destination not to miss. Yup... He was right.
What a beautiful downhill ride down into town. I bumped into Christina at the free ferry, a fellow cyclist solo for a week while her boyfriend explores the North. Since he had her tent and I was desperate for a shower, we agreed to share a room for the night. The young charming Swiss German owner of the Bunkhouse made all the arrangements for us to have an extended stay in this little slice of paradise. If you're passing through Dawson, the Bunkhouse is where you want to be... clean, affordable rooms with lots of coffee and excellent company.
Ueli and friends took us out to all the bars in town, including the infumous Diamond Tooth Gertie's where we gambled away a round of beer money but managed to leave with our dignity. The next day we canoed down the Klondike River, floating with otters and eating lunch with eagles. A dream come true. I'm so thankful for the generosity and hospitality Dawson City showed me. My heart and belly are so full they both just might explode. A real shame I couldn't stay for the music festival, but this lady is always on the go.