It is a big deal to me, having race walked the entire 450 miles of the Cassiar Hwy starting in the Yukon border in the north. The walker is instantly thrust into heavy woods penetrated only by large sections of a gravel narrow two lane road. Up and down over the Coastal mountains and into deep river valleys you plunge watchful for the ever present black bear. On foot you encounter many more bears than flocks of birds.
Each of the “bergs”, villages, little towns and wayside hotels is distinctive. At Bell 11, halfway down this memorable trail, the accommodations are upscale geared to European heli skiers. At Jake’s Corners on the other hand at least their breakfast is good. At Tattoga Lake you get the real homey feeling, complete with a musty, but genuine, cottage. And every stage has its army of hungry mosquitoes. [See my 2009 blogs for more details]
The Cassiar is a dangerous road. Big trucks, day and night, rumble down the narrow bumpy, undulating passageway through time. Giant very expensive RV’s maneuvered exclusively by senior citizens move quickly and daringly around hairpin curves never dreaming that a walker s pumping his way directly into his left bumper. Finally, there are the hordes of adventurous motorcyclists ever challenging the road in small packs always ready to risk a hand wave to a lonely walker.