I was mingling at a party where the babies outnumbered the adults, feeling very out of place as the only woman there who hadn't experienced marriage or childbirth. My friend, a bachelor to his death, said: "Let's go snowshoeing on Cypress!"
"It's night" I reminded him.
"Exactly," he said.
I scooped up my gear – snowshoes, long johns, boots, mitts, and headlamp and we drove to the North Shore.
About 3/4 way up the mountain was a tiny pulloff that I've never noticed before.
We pulled in, put on the 4x4, and parked on a snowy road.
We put on our gear.
"which way?" I asked?
"Up!"
We trudged forth.
WIthin 10 minutes, we were both peeling back layers.
It felt like spring.
The moon was nearly full and the sky was cloudless.
At some parts, where there was a break in the trees, the moonlight cast itself like sunlight over the snow.
So bright that we turned off our headlamps and let it guide us.
The snow glittered.
The only sound was the crunching of our snowshoes on the crispy snow.
After 45 minutes, with big smiles, lots of sweat, and eager anticipation, we arrived at the top, came out into a clearing, and started to come across more people – snowshoers and cross-country skiers alike. Old. Young. In-between.
In the middle of a clearing was a cabin – hollyburn lodge. Smoke coming form its chimney and music playing from within.
We went inside – a 6-piece band with a banjo, violin, and other instruments played foot-stomping great music. Everyone form every age bracket was dancing – the floor shook.
Our beers came ice cold, and we found a pod of our friends who'd been here since early afternoon.
There are only about 10 tables in the place – all long picnic-table-style furnishings that force you to sit beside strangers and make friends.
It was good old fashioned fun.
We drank. We danced. We laughed.
They close down early (9 or 10 I think) because the patrons all have to rely on their legs (hopefully not too wobbly) and their heads (hopefully not too murky with pale ales) to get down the mountain.
We went down with about 10 other folks. It was invigorating, hilarious, exciting.
We raced. We jumped in snowbanks. We went out for (veggie) burgers.
One of the reasons I love Vancouver is that I can do something like that – on a whim. With no planning. I can leave at 6. Be home by 11. And have the time of my life in between.
