I've been holed up inside for months. The better part of a year, it seems.
For this reason. And that. All trite and lame, now that I think of it.
So when I woke up one morning to blue skies and snow dusting the North Shore mountains, I felt compelled.
Come on, my body said.
It's time, my heart said.
We must! my brain said.
Oh please? my dog begged.
So I packed a bag.
Juiced some beets, oranges, and cucumbers.
Filled the water bottles.
Grabbed the dog and headed Northeast.
We drove into Squamish, and pulled off at Alice Lake – the road in was snowcovered and unplowed. The trees looked like crystals. The mountains like magic.
We parked in an icy knoll and walked (slipped, jumped, laughed) down to Alice Lake.
The icy snow cracked beneath my feet and Harley's paws, like it was on Surround Sound.
Everything was still.
The sun shone bright.
My cheeks were rosy.
My heart was happy.
We began to trudge up the 4 Lakes trail – a little off the beaten path.
It's a 6km route that hits – you guessed it – four lakes in the interior.
We were about a kilometre into the trail, when I soon realized that equipment-wise, I was way under-prepared for this hike. The trail was well-marked, but as we ascended, the snow deepened and ground beneath the snow fall was slippery.
We stopped. Listened. Nothing but creaking tree branches.
I decided to turn back then risk a fall high-up with a sweet pup who surely does not have the wherewithal to get help if needed. If I fell, I thought, she'd definitely stick by. I have treats in my pocket. I'm screwed.
So we headed back down, slipping but laughing the whole way. Out loud laughter in a silent winter wonderland is the BEST sound. The best. I threw snowballs at Harley. She jumped up and ate them and played spryly like a puppy rather than the 9-year-old dog that the vet calls "senior" with bad knees and arthritis.
Something about the first snowfall.
Magic, no doubt.
