Its Quitting Time

editor's note - I broke my laptop before I got the images off it, so if I am able to recover my hard drive, I shall insert the pics later...until then, text will have to suffice...apologies!

It’s Quitting Time!!!

3:30pm was slowly approaching and so was the beginning of my first vacation since my arrival last fall. Work was busy, but my head wasn’t in it, it was thinking about the long trek ahead of me. More than 1300kms were to be covered by tomorrow night.
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3:30pm came and I left, got the car washed so I could see out the windows again, filled up on gas and hit the road. There’s something to be said about heading off into new territory (new to me) for a week’s vacation. I had no real idea of what lay ahead, what the roads would be like, if I would break down, land in a ditch, or sail right through.
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Thankfully the skies were fairly clear and I was able to get a good look at some of the mountains along the Alaska Highway. There were 454 kms to cover today, and I was determined to take what photos I could. Below is a photo I took of some stunning mountains as they came into view.
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Then I came across the Teslin River Bridge. That was interesting. I had never been across an all-metal bridge. The only thing close was the short swing bridges in Cape Breton, you know the kind, with the steel grating for driving on…rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr…anyhow it was trippy, that’s for sure, and long!
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Following the Teslin River was a whole lot of empty highway. There are no towns between Teslin and Watson Lake, leaving a driver to nothing but wilderness and it was exhilarating! One more mountain view shot below…
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Then I arrived at Watson Lake and drove by the Sign Forest. I had mentioned wanting to see this to a co-worker who is from Watson Lake and he dared me to not notice it. I got what he meant when I saw it…it’s huge and while it was dark when I arrived in Watson Lake, I took this photo the following morning around 6:30am.
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From Watson Lake I backtracked just 22 kms to the Highway 37 Junction where I began the trek south on the Stewart-Cassiar Highway. The first part of the road wasn’t too bad, somewhat snowy, heavily sanded and several turns. It was also quite deserted. In the first couple of hundred kilometres, I saw one truck, and that was just as I started and then didn’t see another vehicle for several kilometres.
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I wasn’t on the 37 highway just a few minutes when I entered BC…There was also a spot along the Alaska Highway were it entered BC briefly and back out again. The highway takes a little southward dip.


The road conditions ranged from poor to terrific. I think that without the newly fallen snow, the drive would have been pretty darn good. The highway has a few potholes and frost heaves, but in general, was still an improvement on most Nova Scotia secondary roads. There were three sections of unpaved, however they were not always easy to distinguish as the paved roads were so heavily sanded, it was hard to tell. As well, the unpaved portions were hard packed, with some snow on it.
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This was one of my stops to get a break. The ride was noisy from the rumble of driving on dirt road and heavily sanded road. It was nice to get a break, and so peaceful when I stopped. No cars or people around for miles! I’m not sure what Gnat Lake was named after…unless it was a breeding ground fro them.
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I drove through several avalanche areas, and saw the remains of one small avalanche. I can only imagine how bad they can get though as I passed through and looked up the mountain to see just what was there to come down…
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and then it was over…
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There was a particularly tricky part of the highway as it wound its way around sharp bends and over a mountain pass. They warned me ahead of time to slow down and unlike many speed warning signs, this was one to strictly adhere to. The road was unpaved at this point and due to spring thaw, was a slimy, greasy, thick mess of mud.
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As I cleared this section and was going up and over yet another mountain pass on paved road, I came across a fella stuck in a snowbank. It was an Asian fellow, driving a 4-wheel drive SUV and he had lost control, landing in the snowbank under a cliff on the opposite side of the road. Thankfully for him, he didn’t careen in the other direction, OVER the cliff…most of these roads do not have guardrails so there is nothing to prevent one from becoming airborne. I stopped to see if he was ok, and someone had already just stopped and was gone for help to get him towed out. He was fine and then commented to me about my car…”you are driving just a little car with front wheel drive and all-season tires through this treacherous stretch of road?”. I couldn’t resist…so I said to him “I’m sure you can appreciate the irony of the situation…you’re the one in the snowbank with your four-wheel drive…”. He chuckled and I took my smug look back to my car and was on my merry way again…I wanted to take a photo of his SUV in the snowbank, however rubbing his nose in the situation was just poor taste.
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My little car did not let me down once. It’s not all about the vehicle you know, it is just as much about the driver. After several winters on the east coast driving through blinding snowstorms, I felt more than prepared for an inch or two of snow.
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While towns were few and far between, and even then just a building or two on the side of the highway, there were plenty of rest areas…this is the outhouse from one of them. You can sit down and look out into nature, because no one else is in sight for miles and miles.
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The first of many mountain rivers I passed were beginning to break up. There was no sign of that in the Yukon, but the further I drove south, the more open water I came across. It was easy to stop and take photos from the bridges as there was no one else around. I only ever came across 3 cars on my 700kms+ journey, and they were in the last hour or so of the trek. I did see about 4 tractor trailers…the first coming barrelling towards me as I scrambled up over that greasy mountain road…thankfully we were both paying attention as there was not a lot of road. I did see a number of pick-up trucks, maybe about 30, and I think I saw 3 SUV’s, and a couple of vans. That was about it for all those hours on the road. There were tons of campgrounds, all closed for the season, however I did manage to pass by 3 RV’s, doing some winter camping I reckon.
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Sights like this were common, although I think I missed some of the best scenery during the former part of my journey down the Stewart-Cassiar Highway as it was snowing, raining and generally overcast and foggy around the mountains and it was only during the second half of the trek that the mountains appeared out of the fog.
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I finally came to the end of that portion of the highway and at Kitwanga where it ends, I stopped for some supper. I had only stopped once, in Dease Lake to gas up. I had filled in Watson Lake, and didn’t need to even then in Dease Lake, having only burned a half tank, but I was no fool…you never know where the next station is and if it’s even open this time of year. The meal was ok, roast beef dinner floating in gravy I did not order, so she charged me half price. Then I hit the road on the last part of the trek. More spectacular mountains…
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and a whole lot less snow, and much more traffic. I finally arrived at my sister’s house around 6:15pm. The entire drive took me about 16 hours of driving, about 2.5 tanks (45l tank I think) of gas and it was 1345kms, approximately. My Echo was fabulous and I scored good mileage. And boy was I tired…
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I was disappointed with the wildlife. The only things I saw were squirrels darting off the roads and tons of little birds eating up the sand for grist. They were the stunnedest birds I’d ever seen. Flocks of them would be on the road ahead and you would THINK that they would fly away when I approached. You would be wrong. I hit more of those dumb birds, and one smucked right into my windshield, squishing like a bug, and making a fine mess on my windshield There are feathers stuck all over my window, grill, and hood. I began honking as I approached and they would hear that and scatter, however there was always one stun’d pole that would get struck. Weird suicidal birds…