The daunting task to experience cruising the Arctic Ocean on two wheels has been acomplished. Still the Wrecking Crew were dancing upstream the Mackenzie River. Where in summer (yes, we do have four seasons up here: june, july, august, and winter) freight-vessels carry goods into the north-canadian heartland or bearded trappers go trolling for salmon, the Wrecking Crew rumbled on an autobahn-like ice strip southbound.

Traffic: close to none. A pickup every 15 minutes, a truck every half an hour. This means more time for the real thing: the grumbling (Peter’s Pan) and sprattering (Pauls Shovel) of the Big Twins, the metallic scrunching of the spike tires on the ice, the barely audible crackling of the still -38° cold air - and the ubiquitous cracks in the crystal clear ice, some inches-wide, some thinly covered with snow.
