They had matching grey BMW riding suits. They rode a big red, white and blue GS. They screamed past me yesterday on one of the long straight stretches of the Dempster -- I didn't see them coming until they were right along side me. Of course, I tried to keep up -- but they were going just a little too fast.   I didn't feel safe doing corners in gravel at that speed. So I let them go. I saw them again when they stopped for lunch, and again when they stopped to take photos. Then they disappeared in a cloud of dust.   I assumed they were aiming to go all the way to Inuvik, hence the rush.    I bumbled on happily at normal speed to Eagle Plains.  

Mid-morning today, after crossing the Peel River (known as the Tetlit Gwinjik in Gwich'in) on the ferry, I turned into Fort MacPherson for a coffee and a bite to eat . I drive the length of the village to find the only store that offered coffee, and coming round the corner almost ran over our hero.   I glanced at his bike, and knew it was the same couple.   Very friendly. Very young. Very German. They had been every where by motorcycle, all over South America including Uruguay.   My modest rides pale in comparison to their achievements. He was restless and driven. When I mentioned that I couldn't keep up 'cause they went too fast, she nodded her head in agreement.   They had lost their GPS and a small bag, due to the bouncing of the bike on the rough road. He laughed and told more stories. I couldn't help it and mentioned the War (in the context of ferrying American fighter planes to Russia via Watson Lake). I think I got away with it. I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I had started riding seriously earlier in life.

Coming up off the MacKenzie River ferry, I had to slow to pass two women with Pink Cancer Awareness jackets on, walking down the middle of the road. I stopped to ask why? They were only too pleased to tell me they were sisters, doing a Walk of Love for their mother and father, both of whom had died of cancer. So cheerful. Not so young any more. They were going to walk 125 km from Tsiigehtchic to Inuvik. I had to give.

The MacKenzie River is the biggest river you've never heard of. Its basin covers a fifth of Canada. Its flow rivals that of the St Lawrence. I am in Inuvik, on the banks of this behemoth now, staring out over the water.   I booked a ride on the river the day after tomorrow, to see a traditional whaling village. Wonder if I will freeze?