Monday, June 25: S
unday night we stayed in New Hazelton, a small town that sits at the foot of a great mountain. Because nothing was open in town for breakfast, we stopped in the next town, Kitwanga, thirty miles down the road. First Nation people own the gas station/restaurant/general store. Each table in the restaurant was a work of art, hand-painted in tribal designs and covered with high gloss polyurethane. The waitress, a member of the Kitsan tribe, told us that each table had been painted in memory of someone in the tribe; their names were inscribed on each table.
Kitwanga sits at the junction of the Yellowhead Highway (Highway 16), which goes across Canada, and the Cassiar Highway (Highway 37). The Cassiar runs north 450 miles and terminates in the AlCan Highway near Watson Lake. The road passes through some of the most remote and awe-inspiring scenery on the continent. Wild rivers, deep canyons, glaciers, clear lakes, and abundant wildlife distinguish the region. We saw a black bear crossing in front of the car and a young moose cow with her calf trotting along the edge of the road. The Cassiar runs through unspoiled wilderness between the Coast Range and the Skeena Mountains, connecting the great northwestern rain forest with the spruce and jack pine forests of the Yukon. The regular rainfall obscures the sights on many days, but not on this one. We were most fortunate.
Today’s travel on the Cassiar reminded us of two of the realities of these latitudes in the summer. First are the mosquitoes. Everywhere we stopped to let the dogs out there were swarms of them. I had on the Off Connie purchased at Bell 2 where we stopped for lunch. I think the Off only encouraged them. DEET is supposed to work by corrupting receptors on the mosquito’s antennae. Quite unscientifically, I suspect that the recent evolutionary development of mosquitoes has enabled them to adapt so that it has ceased to repel and now simply advertises the presence of “human flesh” and dinner. At least it feels that way when I get out of the car.
The second omnipresent reality of being on the road to Alaska is road construction, flagger
s, waits, and pilot cars. I don’t know why they have to tear up and repair the roads just when we travelers want to use them, but it may have something to do with having only three months when they can do that work. The other nine months, they are probably driving snowplows. In the last forty miles to Dease Lake today we went through over twenty miles of flaggers and pilot cars.
unday night we stayed in New Hazelton, a small town that sits at the foot of a great mountain. Because nothing was open in town for breakfast, we stopped in the next town, Kitwanga, thirty miles down the road. First Nation people own the gas station/restaurant/general store. Each table in the restaurant was a work of art, hand-painted in tribal designs and covered with high gloss polyurethane. The waitress, a member of the Kitsan tribe, told us that each table had been painted in memory of someone in the tribe; their names were inscribed on each table.Kitwanga sits at the junction of the Yellowhead Highway (Highway 16), which goes across Canada, and the Cassiar Highway (Highway 37). The Cassiar runs north 450 miles and terminates in the AlCan Highway near Watson Lake. The road passes through some of the most remote and awe-inspiring scenery on the continent. Wild rivers, deep canyons, glaciers, clear lakes, and abundant wildlife distinguish the region. We saw a black bear crossing in front of the car and a young moose cow with her calf trotting along the edge of the road. The Cassiar runs through unspoiled wilderness between the Coast Range and the Skeena Mountains, connecting the great northwestern rain forest with the spruce and jack pine forests of the Yukon. The regular rainfall obscures the sights on many days, but not on this one. We were most fortunate.
Today’s travel on the Cassiar reminded us of two of the realities of these latitudes in the summer. First are the mosquitoes. Everywhere we stopped to let the dogs out there were swarms of them. I had on the Off Connie purchased at Bell 2 where we stopped for lunch. I think the Off only encouraged them. DEET is supposed to work by corrupting receptors on the mosquito’s antennae. Quite unscientifically, I suspect that the recent evolutionary development of mosquitoes has enabled them to adapt so that it has ceased to repel and now simply advertises the presence of “human flesh” and dinner. At least it feels that way when I get out of the car.
The second omnipresent reality of being on the road to Alaska is road construction, flagger
s, waits, and pilot cars. I don’t know why they have to tear up and repair the roads just when we travelers want to use them, but it may have something to do with having only three months when they can do that work. The other nine months, they are probably driving snowplows. In the last forty miles to Dease Lake today we went through over twenty miles of flaggers and pilot cars. The delays made us especially happy to reach Dease Lake. Tomorrow, we hope to run the last 200 miles of the Cassiar and start on the AlCan.
2 comments:
Cool...but the mosquito stories are scaring me a little...
I FINALLY FIGUTRED THIS OUT WITH THE HELP OF MY DAUGHTER. THEY GOT HOME TODAY AND ARE GLAD TO BE HERE AS I AM TO SEE THEM.
IT'S GOOD TO HEAR FROM YOU--SOUNDS LIKE A BEAUTIFUL TRIP. I HOPE THE REST GOES WELL. TAKE CARE.
PHYLLIS
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