On Sunday, I woke up with the sun shining in my face. The Capilano Canyon Night run party went fairly late. It had been a tough work week. It had rained almost constantly for over 2 months. I rarely sleep in past 8:30, but I had no plans and it felt great to do nothing but soak in the rays. I could tell it was going to be a good day.
Choices, choices. If three-quarters of my family didn't have the flu, we'd have gone skiing but this was clearly not meant to be. After a leisurely breakfast, I read the newspaper and sipped, rather than gulped, a good cup of coffee. There were a few household chores to take care of, but they were quickly dispatched. By 10:30, temperatures were springlike and there wasn't a cloud in the sky.
The mountains were calling my name. It's so much more fun to share, but I wasn't sure who to call? Monty, Doug and I had spoken of going for a snowshoe run the night before, but both were busy. Jill went downhill skiing in Whistler. I checked voice mail and there were 2 messages from earlier this morning from Mike. "Jackson, where are 'ya? Let's go snowshoeing!" A half hour later we were strapping on the 'shoes at the top of Grouse Mountain. No doubt about it, this was THE day!
Mike hadn't been on snowshoes for 10 years, but he's an incredible athlete so there was no question of him slowing me down. In any case, we were out to have fun, not kill each other. Our adventure started with 15 minutes of jogging on winding trails in the woods followed by a standing jump off a 2-story building. It was so hot we peeled off layers... I even took my t-shirt off. It was a good day for memories. Thankfully, I packed my little Olympus camera.
The snow was dry and, off the beaten trails, almost 1/2 meter deep. Lots of people of all different abilities were out enjoying the trails and the weather. Everyone had a smile and a good word to say as Mike and I cut fresh tracks past them up the mountain.
When we arrived at the summit of Dam Mountain there was a party going on! A bottle of red wine was being passed around. A couple from Italy was feeding trail mix to the Whisky Jacks. Everyone was taking photos because today was THE day. As if my miracle, my favorite launching pad was covered in a week of untouched, light powder. Woo-hoo... an instant photo shoot!
After being the center of attention for a half-hour as we hucked ever farther off the cliff, Mike and I beat it down an untouched slope into the back country. Still covered in a thick blanket of snow, the trees would surprise us by releasing the occasional volley on our heads. We learned to give them a wide berth.
It had been a couple of years since I'd been back to Crown Mountain. Mike was game, so we left the "Danger-Wilderness Area" sign behind and followed a pair of snowshoe tracks into the true backcounty. In the distance we could hear frequent "booms!" as avalanches cut loose on the sunny side of the valley.
It wasn't long before we ran into a very fit woman in a halter top, alone in the boonies soaking up the rays. Barbara, a former member of North Shore Search and Rescue, shared with us the secret of the lost tunnel. Finding that lost tunnel is as good a reason as I can think of for a new Club Fat Ass Flash Event this summer.
By now, it was 2:00. Standing on the Haines Valley saddle, Mike and I soaked in the view and savoured the pure mountain air. How could we possibly top this?
We then doffed our gear and went for a naked snowshoe run. The perfect end to a perfect day!
