Day 8 -    So.......what name attached itself to the little bike?  Heather - you win.  Meet Miss 99.  She is sleek from the tip of her pointed plastic nose to the broad.....oops....I mean svelt rear end.  The original was Agent 99 who was a classy lady and was always saving Maxwell Smart's a$$ and making sure his crazy schemes worked out in the end.  Of course we don't know anyone who has crazy ideas so I'll just say that she seems to suit the part and the name just seems to fit her. 
   When we left the stunning (?) town of Minot, ND this morning in 42 deg. F (5 deg C) and so started out with all of our "Arctic" clothing on.  After being acclimatized to such hot temperatures it felt like it was freezing.  Thank goodness for electrically heated gloves and vest.   Mmmmm......toasty warm.  We passed more areas of flooding - many hundreds of miles to be exact.  Whole farms flooded out and any fields with the slightest dip was filled with water.  I thought Essex County farmers had it rough.  Trust me Essex county is the Sahara Desert compared to here.  Other than the flooding it was a day to make miles.  After all there isn't a lot to see in North Dacota and southern Saskatchewan. Everything was nice and green however (duh!).  Just as we were about 100 miles out of Edminton we had heavy winds which of course caused 99 to do a little dance for a while but without mishap.  Then it rained - blew then rained etc. repeat etc. until we arrived at our motel in Edmonton.  Surprising thing happened at the hotel.  We just walked in the room and hadn't even completely taken off our riding suits and the many layers underneath and the phone rang.  Now who could that be?  Surely no one knows where we are staying.  Wrong!!  Charles' friend Kenny from Colorado Springs has been following us on the Spot page and when he saw it so  used Google Streets to look around and read the name of the hotel.  He simply then called it and asked for us.  Wierd.  Kenny was one of the people who drove several hundred miles and to the top of Mt. Evans last year to witness our start of the Heaven to Hell 1000.  It seems strange to think that people are following along.  Long distance riding is such a solitary sport that it feels odd to think that you're not actually alone after all.  Thoughts to ponder during the long days of watching the dotted white line reel in and pass by. Speaking of which, does anyone have a suggestion for getting a song out of your head once it starts to go around and around.  If I humm "North to Alaska, go north, the rush is on" one more time I'll go crazy.  Hopefully it'll be something else tomorrow.
    Tomorrow (bright??) and early we depart for Dawson Creek, BC for mile 0 of the Alaska Highway (local speak = Alcan) to start the true north portion of the trip.  We hope to make it to at least Fort Nelson.
   Not much in the way of photos but here is a couple.

 99 was jealous when I tried out this roadside device we saw in a field in the little town of Portal, ND  I wouldn't trade, my style but needs one less wheel.

Not to be outdone - Charles assumes the Harley position.  How do you spell gynaecological?

99 didn't speak except for the throaty purr of her exhaust at redline for the next several hours.
We stopped on the shoulder of the road in one of the flooding areas and found the surface covered by worms trying to escape the water.

Watery worms for hundreds of miles along the shoulder.  Something else to ponder.  Yeeccchhh.

We arrive finally back in Canada in Saskatchewan.  No problems at the border.

    Well, it's late again,  how does this happen every day?  So much for sleep.  Good night. We're off early tomorrow.

Bob