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One of the cabins had a huge dog yard with individual kennels for dozens of sled dogs. A
fellow was exercising his dogs by harnessing them up to his bike, then tearing around town
with them pulling. The dogs were totally into it, having such a great time.
Roly poly black bears here too, trundling down the back roads, bulking up for the winter on
the plentiful berries. I'm still having trouble bending my brain around that. Weight Watch-
ers now lets you eat as many berries as you want - no points. Yet, bears get fat on them.
Go figure.
We ended the day by stopping at the wayside that marks the Arctic Circle at Mile 115. We
did not bother to drive up the road to the more remote campground, thinking the wayside
itself would be a good place to sleep. Or try to. All night long cars from Fairbanks kept
pulling up to the marker/map/globe, falling out of their cars yelling, “We made it!!!!” then
instructing each other on how to take their pictures. About 3 am Steve got up to use the
toilet and had people calling him over to take their photos. Bemused, he did.
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