Do not smile. Do not make eye contact. Keep your hands on the wheel and fully visible at all times. The border official paces around the car like a paedo-wolf or Piers Morgan, whichever is worse. Do not speak unless you are spoken to. Answer the officer in a timely and respectful manner.
It was another beautiful day at the Poker Creek border crossing.
Read more "Bad Taxidermy At The Bloodied Caribou Lodge"
My secretary and I have been incarcerated in an Arctic gulag known as Inuvik in Canada’s Northwest Territories. We have been here for approximately six days or years; I cannot be sure since the sun does not set at this latitude.
Read more "Strange Nausea In Inuvik"
Somewhere around Richardson Pass, the wheels of our car locked into a skid and we began to hydroplane across the mud. As we slowly drifted over to the wrong side of the road, I realised that we were going to die.
Read more "Death Or Glory On Dempster Highway"
My secretary and I have urgent business to attend to in Seward, the nature of which cannot be revealed here for reasons which cannot be revealed here, but it is imperative that we should be in The Salmon Bake bar and restaurant by sundown. Needless to say, the consequence of our absence would be devastating – for all of us.
Read more "Bad Drugs On Prince William Sound"
After two days driving Dempster Highway, arguably one of the worst and most dangerous roads in the world, my secretary and I both needed a drink badly. Rain ran rivers down the windscreen and we rolled long hills under heavy cloud. But there were blue skies over Dawson City and it was lit up gold like a beacon at the end of these dark Dempster afternoons.
Read more "Captain Dick Put A Severed Toe In My Drink"