This morning, I awoke to the rain beating on the tin roof of a little one room cabin my S.A.G. partner and I were forced to rent yesterday here in Whitehorse.  Though expensive, it was a cheaper option than any hotel room.  One can hardly move around in here, and the nasty weather, combined with nagging pain in my legs (Is it possible to sprain one’s quadriceps in a crash?), a pain that is seriously inhibiting my ability to walk at the moment, forced us to stay put another day.  Maybe I shouldn’t have slogged up A.B. Peak so soon after the hit-and-run.  The cold, the rain, the pain, the expensive nature of everything, our rapidly depleting funds, the incident with the ATV, and the unabating loneliness all seemed to amalgamate this day and kindle an intense desire to call it quits and head home.  As the day wore on, and the rain persisted, the resulting idleness only incensed that desire. 

Back at Continental Divide, miles before on the Alaska Highway, I had a dream that I quit the ride in the Yukon because of some incident and went home, gravely regretting it long thereafter.  In fact, this has been a recurring nightmare throughout this journey.  Two days later, I was hit by that ATV, and it seemed the vision was coming to pass.  Contemplating this, I perked up in that tiny little cabin.  Though hurting and discouraged by the weather, there was no way I could let this happen.

So, around 5:00 pm and in a bit of a frustrated rage, I threw on my rain gear, donned the same pair of TCK Slog Series that I have been wearing in the saddle since the journey began, tossed the mountain bike into the back of the S.A.G. wagon, and had my partner drive me back to the scene of the hit-and-run.  With a macabre defiance of that seemingly foretelling nightmare and the factors aligned against me, I climbed into the saddle and ignored the pain.  That evening, I pedaled 41 miles (much of it in the rain) from the very spot where that madman tried to take me out all the way through Whitehorse and on to Portage Creek.  Now, I am back in the little one-room cabin, and I again find it difficult to walk.  Nevertheless, in this cold, wet ride, a victory was won and certain fears were overcome.  I press on. 

The weather forecast for the next several days looks grim.  Today, I saw two flocks of geese heading south.  The leaves are started to turn.  Winter will soon be here in the Far North.  So, help me God.

-Jesse Boyd