I couldn’t wait to be back home to write all about this day. I’m loving West Canada for many reasons, but I can already tell today is going to be one of the highlights. It deserved a blog entry all to itself.
I woke up early in the morning to the sound of Fitzsimmons Creek right outside my tent. And for the first time, with the help of an extra mattress, I did so not sooner than my alarm. NO new mosquito bites (yet). Enjoyed a delicious granola based breakfast crowned with peanut butter, banana and berries, and had a fun time washing dishes with Lukas (as far as washing dishes can go). Then, upon returning with our clean silverware and a bladder on the verge of bursting, we heard Ellie's command to “stay where you are, don’t come any closer. There’s a bear!”. We were all so confused. We had locked all of our food and toiletries away! There was the van, and the trailer and all those bear boxes. What could have possibly attracted the animal to our campground? The situation was peacefully resolved by a camp worker and his big old anti-bear air horn.
Ran to the toilets, got dressed, rushed to my tent, opened my backpack to get ready... and there it was. A five day old corncob, half wrapped in tinfoil. Yellow, mushy, and yes, hella stinky. I would like to take this occasion to thank the spirits of the Canadian National Parks for protecting me and everyone around me from the consequences of my occasional forgetfulness and unconscious neglectful ways. Got a few frowned eyebrows for that one, but at least I wasn’t ostracized.
Once in Whistler Village, more or less by chance, I ended up with a full suspension Rocky Mountain mountain bike from Comor. And more or less by chance, I found myself alone on the Zappa Trails at Lost Lake —according to their website, “a great place for an introduction to cross-country mountain biking for all ages”. Indeed, unexpectedly, I was beaming away, speeding up and down meter-wide dirt and pea grave trails framed by pine trees, wildflowers and berries, barely crossing paths with anyone else, hearing nothing but the sound of the wind, the birds and my own breathing for hours on end. I thought mountain biking had to be extreme, dangerous and that I’d feel unsafe or uncomfortable. But what I felt while floating over rocks and bumps that would have otherwise knocked me over on a road bike was nothing but exhilarating. I realized what the girl at the shop meant when referring to full suspension as “good fun”. I knew that I was having it in the moment, but it’s only now in retrospect that I realize how intense that was, and how much I wanna do it again!
I enjoyed Ellie’s veggie spaghetti sitting on a fallen trunk right by the very blue stream (I know all about glacial flour now!) and proceeded to bike my way to my original plan: the Valley Trail. It was a nice ride with beautiful sights to Green Lake and a central perspective of all surrounding mountain sides. Some of the scenery evoked stingy flashbacks of Lake Lugano and the trail between Zug and Bern. But other new and exciting elements such as a floatplane and a snake rushing to cross the paved path just ahead of me reminded me of the novelty of this place at every level.
I wrapped up the experience with a well deserved Cake Batter Cookie Dough Blizzard and a stroll back to Riverside Campground, where I’m currently typing these words. Red, filthy and sweaty but very happy, once again listening to the sound of Fitzsimmons Creek right outside my tent.
I really love Whistler. The drive here from Wells Gray yesterday already blew me away. And I have the feeling I’ve only seen but the tip of the iceberg. Of all of the places I’ve discovered in the past few years, I couldn’t mind coming back to this particular one in the future.
