Yesterday I crossed the continental divide between the waters of the Swift River that flow north and west, eventually into the Yukon River and the Pacific, and those of the Rancheria River that flow north, eventually into the MacKenzie and the Arctic Ocean. It should have been a minor tourist factoid but it wasn't. It was exhilarating. It made the wind fresher and the sky brighter to be up on a mountain pass dividing two parts of the world. It was also reassuring that I had gotten to the top and that it was all downhill from there.
Today has been a rest day at the Rancheria Lodge. It puts the "run" in rundown, the "shab" in shabby, and the "funk" in funky. It has reputedly been here since 1942 when the highway was built. And looks like it.
Tomorrow will be a longish day and then Thursday I should be at Watson Lake. I am little by little coming to have more stamina and leg strength. My heart rate recovers to lower levels more quickly. So the road therapy if one may call it that, is beginning to work.
Plus it is a good trip. It is nice now and again to take a season away from the madding crowd, to put behind the daily dailiness of daily life and get away, to be among white spruce and poplar, the road and the true blue sky.
Tomorrow I am going to get back on my bicycle and begin once more to ease on down, ease on down, ease on down the road.