14 April 2013
It’s a beautiful morning at Whistler. We are all a wee bit tired due to the constant revelry in the street outside last night, but the sun is sparkling in a clear blue sky so crawling back into bed is just not an option. I feel that such a lovely morning should be shared, and wonder briefly if setting off the fire alarm in the building would wake the abovementioned revellers. Hmm, tempting, but – no.
We pack our gear, check out and head out on foot to explore. Almost everyone in the streets is wearing snow gear and walking with that funny swagger that oversized plastic ski boots create. We check out the price of equipment in one of the shops in case mum decides to hit the black diamond runs, but find that our collected funds would only cover a second hand pair of ski poles with suspicious bends and some bark scrapings down the sides. We opt for Plan B and jump on the gondola to Whistler Mountain. The view gets more and more spectacular as we ascend and then arrive in a landscape covered in brilliant white fresh snow. The place is abuzz with skiers of all ages. We pause for some happy snapping and then hop on the Peak to Peak gondola to cross to the adjacent Blackcomb Mountain.
When we head inside the mountain café for smoko mum gets a surprise – she can’t see! The snow was so bright that the transition lenses in her glasses have gone completely black and don’t seem to want to change back again. Unfortunately, the effect wears off after some minutes, and she spots the gift shop I was trying to steer her past. We finally get to the smoko table and Kirsty introduces us to that Canadian delight – poutine (french fries, topped with brown gravy and curd cheese) – yum!
At last it’s time to head back down the mountain and start for home. The drive back is even more stunning than yesterday, and we can’t resist pulling over at one point to take more pictures. We pull into Squamish for (you guessed it) some coffee and vow we are now definitely heading home. Then I spot the sign – Take Exit 19 for Lynn Canyon. “Er – David? Is there any chance we could make just one more teensy stop?” Lynn Canyon park is a lovely spot with forest walks and a suspension bridge over a ravine with rushing water below. We cross the bridge and decide to try the shortest walk. The trail is fairly steep and I get concerned that it might be a bit much for mum after such a big day. The concerns turn to embarrassment when I realise that none of us are able to keep up with her as she scampers back up the trail like a rock wallaby. When we finally get home I promise that tomorrow will be a bit quieter – at least one of us needs the rest.