To Buntzen and back again

Yesterday it was a beautiful autumn day in Vancouver where the wind was light and the sky was cloudless and blue. It was exciting to behold, particularly because the last three days have been riddled with misty rain and cool temperatures. I quickly packed my hiking pack with food, water, and dog treats, threw my hiking shoes into the trunk, coaxed Beamer into the back seat, and we headed to Buntzen Lake near Port Moody. Only 45 mins or so away.

Buntzen Lake is actually a BC Hydro reservoir. But I wasn't there for the Lake; I was there for the surrounding mountains and trails. BC Hydro has turned it into a recreation area of sorts and has established some well marked trails through the surrounding back country, that steeply lead to some stunning vistas with views of the Indian Arm.

The forest is dense and thickly populated with mossy canopies and banana slugs. It's different than Ontario hiking. Mostly because it is very much "rain forest"-like. Lots of dampness. Lots of mossy greens. Lots of beauty.

Beamer who has been relatively sedentary these past few weeks and who has, unfortunately, been left behind because the calibre of some of my latest hikes have been too difficult for her, was giddy with excitement when we arrived at Buntzen and set forth on the trail.

Beamer is, surprisingly, a FANTASTIC hiking dog. She stays on the trail and questions our route when she thinks we should be going the other way. We don't talk (rather, "I" don't talk), just share glances that confirm our navigational agreements and carry forth. On the way up, Beamer leads. At each crest, she stops, looks back at me to make sure I am coming and, if there is a fork in the trail, waits for me so we can decide together which way to go. She is really quite a thoughtful and strategic hiking partner. And I love her to bits for it. We had a wonderful time.

About an hour or so into our hike, after we'd bypassed the tourists and headed solo into more rugged terrain, the ascent became quite steep. At one point, Beamer slid down a steep rocky incline and admitted defeat quickly. She raced down teh mountain. She had had enough. I managed to seduce her back to the steep incline with a few treats and pushed her up. Once she was up above the trick area, she confidently took the lead again!

Another hour or so of a steep ascending and Beamer and I were spent. We hadn't seen a single soul for quite sometime (which we love) but I was concerned that our trek down these wet, mossy rocks would be more difficult for Beamer than the ascent and was secretly hoping to run into someone just to be safe.

Once you reach the top of the rocky climb, the views are incredible! Although the day quickly changed from beautiful to dreary while we were encased in lush forest, the views were still magnificent. The black clouds did not take away from the vast expanse of the Indian Arm and the surrounding mountains. There are 5 viewpoints on a kilometre-stretch of cliff at the top. Beamer and I sat down at viewpoit two to take it all in, catch our breath, and have some lunch.


"WOW" I said.

Just as a crack of thunder roared and the sky turned into a torrential downpour of big wet drops. I exchanged glances with Beamer who was not amused, packed up my sandwich with one bite taken out of it, and decided not to attempt the other viewpoints. We quickly headed down.

On the way down, Beamer lets me lead. She waits back until I have navigated steep ledges and drops. Then I wait for her as she navigates the same. We are never walking at the same time. She watches me; I watch her. We're like Batman and Robin; the Lone Ranger and Tonto; Cheech and Chong.

Our descent was fast and slippery. But the mountain that had taken us well over two hours to climb took us less than an hour to descend. Soon we were back on relatively flat ground and well established trails, counting banana slugs, and laughing at our rotten luck with rain.

When we arrived home, we crashed. It was 6:00 PM. We didn't wake up until 12 hours later, when morning arrived. Ah... gotta love a good hike!

I OWN MY CAR!!!

I own my car! I own my car! I own my car! I own my car! I own my car! I own my car! I own my car! I own my car! I own my car!
I own my car! I own my car! I own my car!I own my car! I own my car! I own my car! I own my car! I own my car! I own my car!
I own my car! I own my car! I own my car!I own my car! I own my car! I own my car! I own my car! I own my car! I own my car!

After 5 years, I finally paid off my car.
I feel GREAT!

Hiking Mount Strachan... kind of

Early one Sunday morning, my friend Mike gave me a buzz: "Let's do a hike" he said and I eagerly agreed to be ready in 20 minutes. Although rain was drizzling down and the day was overcast and dull, our spirits were high. We'd been meaning to do this hike for some time and both had the motivation to stick it out today.

Mount Strachan is close to Vancouver. Only a 20 minute drive or so across the Lion's Gate and toward Squamish. It's close. And it's beautiful. My hiking book (bible?) gives a description of the mountain, and the route up. It's accompanied by a trail map and elevation map. We packed some fruit, crackers, cheese, water, and toilet paper and excitedly began our ascent.

The trail begins at the base of a ski hill on Cypress. It's thickly wooded and beautiful. The trees are huge. The ground is mossy. There are little creeks and waterfalls as you walk. It is serene. Particularly with a light misty rain.

Our first mistake was realized when we hit the end of the first trail without happening upon the cut-off trail (Old Strachan Trail) that we were supposed to take. We hiked back to find it. And couldn't. So decided to take a detour up another trail (also highlighted on our map) that would eventually join up with a "pass" to Mount Strachan.

About 20 minutes into our uphill climb, we began to descend with equal grade as we had just ascended. "We're going down." I said to Mike. "I know." he said. "weird."


20 minutes later, we were right back where we started with no summit and no idea as ot how we ended up in the same place. So we set forth back up, laughing the whole way. And evenutall stumbled upon our gross error: we had detoured slightly off the trail, circled a tree, and headed down on the same trail we had started up! Ridiculous! We laughed heartily and carried on our way.

We crossed paths with another nomad and his wolf-like dog who was quick to tell us that we were on our way to hiking Mt. Hollyburn, not Mt. Strachan. Still we pushed forth and an hour later had summitted Mt. Hollyburn (a beautiful hill with a great view of the Indian Arm). We had a picnic and reviewed our map. We were determined to hike and summit Mt. Strachan.


After going down the mountain a bit to find the "pass" to Mt Strachan and then summiting again wondering if the "pass" were at the top, we finally found a beaten trail with a sign that said "Danger. Trail not kept.".


I scoffed and did my best sarcastic "ooooohhhh....Danger.... What are we gonna do?" then laughed and carried forth.

We quickly learned that "trail not kept" was entirely accurate. The trail was not only "not kept"; it was, for the most part, non-existent. And Mike and I spend hours jumpig over fallen trees, sliding down mud slides, crawling through thick brush. After three hours in the thick forest and no signs of a decent trail or of Mount Strachan, we had already discussed politics, religion, dating, marriage, children, gay rights, abortion, family, depression, and more. By the time we took a break at a waterfall in the interior, our legs were scraped, our arms were bruised, our ankles were thick with mud, and we had resorted to knock-knock jokes to keep our sanity.

"Do you think we'll have to sleep here?" I asked Mike, half-joking and half-not as fear began to seep in. "I was just thinking teh same thing" he replied and we shared a in-depth gaze filled with anxiety and terror. Then the moment passed and we trudged on, telling all the jokes we could think of.

Five hours after we saw the infamous "danger" trail head sign, we finally stumbled (quite literally) upon another trail and people (yes! civilization again!) and made our way back to whence we came.
At the car, we shared an underwhleming high-five, a big jug of water, and a snooze.

Note to self: stick to the trails and don't be so cocky. Nature is the stronger beast!

17 days of Ontario

So after four months in BC, a friend's wedding back in Ontario propelled me to take an extended visit "home".
Of all the adventures I've had over the last four months, and really over my entire life, none were as exhausting and surreal as these 17 days.

My itinerary was jam-packed with visits. With hugs and kisses. With catching up. With eating and drinking. One of my hiking buddies emailed me from BC while I was in Ontario: "Let's hike when you get back!" he said. "You may have to roll me up the hill, Erik," I replied. "I've been eating donuts for two weeks straight!"

But aside from the extra pudge around my middle, the visit was perfect. It was tiring and overwhelming, but full of love and laughter. I regret nothing.

Here is how it all unfolded:

I arrived bright and early on a Friday morning (12:30 AM). Paul picked me up from the airport, after a lengthy drive from Montreal. We grabbed a slice of pizza and a cholocate milk (ah, the Ontario-gorging had begun!) and promptly drove to Pickering where we eagerly crashed at Dad's.

The next day, we drove to goderich for a three-day stint with Geoff, Sally, and my uber-cute nephew Mark! These three days included the family golf tourney -- the combination of record rainfall + windstorm + balminess contributed to this year's longest game: 6.5 hours! Dad took home the trophy for the fifth consecutive year, with the closest competition a good 10 strokes off the lead!

With Aunt C, Uncle P, Matt, Mike, Alicia, Geoff, Sally, Mark, Brenda, Dad, Patrick, Paul and I all starving by the game's end, it was only natural that would feast on Willow Glenn's own Fresh Poultry Division chicken. Mmmm... delicious!

Three days after our Goderich vacation, we set forth again to visit some friends in Windfall, then the next day Woodstock.

Next up? Omemee and a lovely visit with my brother, his wife, and their bun-in-the-oven... my new little niece or nephew who'll make a grand appearance in January. We ate like royalty (as we always do chez Jen and Trev), laughed heartily, and finished off the evening with an extraordiniarily thoughtful (and quite delicious) "Welcome Back" cake. (Consequently, it was so good that Paul and I ate it for breakfast too!)

We headed west again to our next destination: Mom's house in Guelph where we set up "home" for three days and enjoyed great food (thank you Greek Restaurant), rousing games of euchre (thank you Dave and your darned "strategy"), and a party with a bunch of my friends from all over Ontario: Jodi, Andrea, Sandi, Kurtis, Matt, Jen, Lisa, Sarah, David, Karen, Jon, etc. So thrilling to have the opportunity to catch up with everyone... I miss them dearly.

After settling in for three days, we packed up again and headed east for a small stop at Uncle Tom and Aunt Phyllis' in Williamstown where we laughed about what a small world this is, and then off to Montreal for three day's of fun: We hit the symphony, Mont Royal, my grandfather's grave at Notre Dame cemetary, the oratory, and downtown Montreal. Just as Paul's cats were getting used to us being home, you guessed it... we packed up for the 37th time and headed east again for a delicious meal at Dad and Brenda's. (We were spoiled rotten. Chicken, stuffing, chocolate-covered strawberries. mmmm... perfect!)

Then we continued our pilgrammage back west with a dinner with the coolest family in the world: the Szimanskis. After stuffing myself with Stephen's gournmet barbequed rosemary chicken with a fruit medley chutney, their young son (my future hubby) Eli beat me at a rousing game of basketball. Of course, he was kind enough to "let me win" one game. "It's nice to let people who are losing win sometimes, Kim." He said. Nice.

Then we eventually made it to our final destination, the place we had made the trip for: Burlington and Matt and Jen's wedding. It wa a beautiful sunny day. Not a cloud in the sky. A light breeze. Jen looked sensational. Matt so happy that his smile nearly came off his face. We laughed. We cried. We tore up the dance floor.

Then I keeled over in the plane the next day and began my recovery on the five hour flight home.

Whew.

Now that's an adventure!