|By the time the bike shop
dimwits were done screwing
around, it was too late for us to
get the rental car back in time.
There's an extra fee for that. The
rental place also runs the only
taxi service in town, and since
they were closed by the time we
got back, we had no way to
make it the 25km to where we
left our bikes.
|When we finally made it back to the
Klondike Lodge, they were closed. We
shared our sob story with the
mechanic there, trying to sway him
into opening up the shop so we could
install our new tires. It didn't work.
Instead, he bought us dinner and a
night in the lodge. Praise the Lord,
there are some good people left in the
world!! We were filthy, exhausted,
and STARVING - we hadn't had time
to stop for food since we left
Fairbanks. We ate like pigs and slept
like babies, clean, dry, and happy for
the first time in days.
|Our Heros! Richard, the mechanic at the
Klondike Lodge, and his assistant
Brandon. When all was said and done, they
didn't charge us a cent and refused a tip.
(We left one anyways.)
|We didn't get good pictures of the slices in
the tires, because we intended to cut out
the worst chunks and save them as
souvenirs. We forgot. You can see how
bald the top tire is - that was mIke's
front. The middle one is my rear tire,
and it has five big slits in it (the largest
was almost 2" long). The bottom one is
Mike's rear, and if you look at the bottom
of the picture just left of center you can
see one of the many places where his steel
belts were showing through. Believe it or
not, these tires were new when we left
California, and should have lasted us at
least 5,000 more miles.
|All this struggle faded into distant
memory when we made it to Mukluk
Annie's in time for the
all-you-can-eat breakfast a few
days later. The whole buffet was
good, but those were the best
blueberry pancakes we had ever
eaten. Look at that - it's flopping
off the edge of the plate!! Judging
by the look on Mike's face, Gnomad
picked the wrong place to kick back...
|Gnomad vs. Mike
|Overlooking Teslin, Yukon.
If you look at the far side of
the bridge, then nine more
miles up the road, you'll see
|I'll make a long story short. When the motorcycle shop opened and
we asked for our tires (which we had ordered and paid for by phone
last night), they just shrugged their shoulders. It took over an
hour and a half for them to figure out what had happened: They
charged us for the three tires we needed, then someone else came in
and wanted to buy one of them. Knowing we were driving all night
from the Yukon to get these tires, they credited us back for one
and sold it to someone else. They didn't call to inform us, didn't
apologize, and didn't want to give us our third tire back. Call us
if you want all the sordid details, but lets just say that in the end,
the cops were called and we left the shop with three tires.