Johnson’s Crossing to Bell II
(Updated with photos)
We had done very well fending off Northern Canada and Alaska’s notorious biting insects, through a combination of DEET, insect repellent smoke spirals, mesh on our doors, vents and windows, and covering up with clothes.
That ended last night, when Debbie woke up in the middle of the night to find that I hadn’t closed the door fully — it was just open a fraction of a crack — and a couple of dozen mosquitoes had sneaked into the van. At around 4am, we had a frantic 20 minutes of bug squashing, which didn’t get them all. At around 5am, we were still paranoid about insects, and Debbie suggested that since neither of us could sleep, we should give it half an hour, then give up, get up and start driving. It was already light, after all.
At a quarter to nine, we both woke from deep slumber.
Usually I bear the brunt of insect attacks. I get the most bites, and react worst - but today Debbie has more bites than me, and they have swollen up more dramatically. Let’s hope they fade quickly.
By lunchtime, we’d covered our last repeated part of the Alaska Highway, and turned south on route 37, the Stewart-Cassiar Highway. According to Lonely Planet it has a “fearsome reputation”. The first few miles lived up to it - rough gravel every few hundred metres, sharp turns and humps. And, it was narrow. Not a single lane road, but narrow enough to have no centre line. This was what we’d been led to expect on the Alaska Highway, and we’d felt a little short changed when it was so wide and smooth most of the way. So, we were glad to get a road with personality now.
After the first 20 miles or so, it got a lot smoother. Perhaps the rough road is there to preserve the reputation, for those who just dip a toe in?
We stopped at a rest area, for a lunch of tinned chilli, tortillas, dip and bread.
The Stewart-Cassiar highway is gorgeous. Around every corner there’s a new view. It’s also more direct than the Alaska Highway. Despite having to pay more attention to things like corners, I’d recommend it to anyone as the best way to go North or South in British Columbia. There really are very few settlements on this road, but there are petrol stations around as often as you need them.
We got out of the van at the bridge crossing the Stikine River, to admire the view along the river, and the bridge itself. After that, things got alpine, with yet more snow-capped mountains coming into view. The verges became colourful with pink, yellow and white wild flowers.
There were three unpaved sections, each around 25km long, bit even these weren’t as tough as you might expect. We found ourselves overtaking a lot of vehicles that were taking it very slowly - but we didn’t feel we were taking risks. There didn’t seem to be any likelihood of our ending up like the unfortunate car we encountered abandoned in a roadside ditch. Either they were going much faster than us, or they just let their attention drift.
Although it wasn’t mentioned in any of our guide books, the road atlas showed ‘Iscut Hot Springs Provincial Park’ on our route, and that sounded like a great place to spend the night. But, we never saw it. My working theory is that it’s only accessible via the Iscut River, and the map’s not detailed enough to show it.
Once we’d established it wasn’t there, we resolved to stop in the first campsite we saw, which turned out to be the ‘Bell II Lodge’. It’s a Scandinavian feeling resort, with log cabins, a gym, sauna, hot tub and restaurant. In winter, it’s a base for heliskiing tours. In summer, it’s sort of seeking a purpose, but houses passing travelers like us.
There is no fire pit, and although we have a gas cooker, it’s not as much fun, so we went to their restaurant. We both wanted salmon from the specials menu, but others had beaten us to the last of the salmon. Debbie had fish’n'chips, and I had a burger. They were big helpings and it was good stuff.
Afterwards, we used the sauna because it was there. We’d have used the hot tub too, but it was full (”of dweebs”, adds Debbie).