It was a spur of the moment trip, labored on Wednesday, full plans born on Thursday. The plan: leave after work on Friday and drive as far as Squamish. Motels are cheap up there this time of year. We got one night in Squamish and one night in Pemberton for less than $300, which is astonishing.
The plan was born because Randy is riding the NIMBY50 mountain bike race in Pemberton on May 29. The course is 35 km but is advertised as feeling like 50 km. I'm not racing but went along for the pre-ride because I like to mountain bike. And my ski plans for the weekend were cancelled due to sketchy avalanche danger. Later my skiing friends reported that there were no avalanches but the snow was mush.
The 2010 Winter Olympics were good for that part of Canada. Ordinarily the highway north of Vancouver is a narrow, twisty, dangerous strip of asphalt. Now it's two lanes in each direction, wider, and seemingly straighter. The drive was relatively easy in spite of Friday rush hour toward Vancouver.
Howe Sound is one of the most gorgeous places I've ever seen, especially on a sunny day. Squamish is at the north end of Howe Sound. It's like being in the fjord region of a Scandinavian country. Or Alaska. The mountains surrounding the sound are steep, blue, and capped in snow. Contrast that with sparkly blue water. The granite in Squamish is also astounding. We saw a few climbers making their way up the vertical walls. I understand why it's a climbing destination. The mountain is referred to as "Chief" due to First Nations significance. Squamish is referred to as the outdoor capital of British Columbia. I can understand why. There's the rock climbing, mountain biking trails, skiing, and water activities. I hope to explore at least the first three in the near future. Places like Squamish make me wonder how I can arrange my life to become a climbing/skiing bum and still keep my retirement fund intact.
Our motel in Squamish was still under construction but open. There were about 5 cars in the lot, including ours. Shoulder season. The young man at the front counter directed us to a long-standing local pub for dinner. The beer is bland compared to American microbrews and I briefly wondered why all the women were drinking wine. I'll bet the wine is quite good with the Okanagon Valley nearby. My beef sandwich was tough but the salad was very creative and fresh. And Randy's fries were delicious. We found another pub while touring town, the Howe Sound Pub. The menu looked much more appetizing and the beer was better. Next time we would eat there.
The next morning we drove up through Whistler to Pemberton, tried to find the bike trails based on a photocopy of a map, ended up back in Pemberton at the bike store to get a clear map and directions. The weather was warm already and the fellow in the bike store told us it had been about 25C the previous day, which is over 80F. Wow. And the bugs were out.
We found the trailhead, unloaded bikes and started the steep climb up a gravel road. Huff puff, pant pant. My bike wasn't shifting properly and the bottom bracket had an annoying squeak. Randy adjusted the shifting but wasn't able to do anything about the squeak. After about a mile we got on some nice singletrack back down to the bottom then took a railroad grade trail along the Lillooet River to a trail referred to as "100 Switchbacks". And it had at least that many switchbacks.
Switchbacks and football-sized rock gardens for trails are not exactly my strong point. I'm still working on those skills. And the cleat on my left shoe became permanently loose so I wasn't able to use that pedal. I walked a lot. It was aggravating, frustrating, and the bugs were relentless. I hadn't seen Randy in more than an hour but I knew he'd come looking eventually. I kept going and eventually he came down after waiting for me at a trail junction for much longer than usual. We went back down. I was able to ride some but it was difficult on a difficult trail with only one functioning pedal.
The ride down went better than I expected but a misunderstanding at dinner pushed me over the aggravation edge. I had a temper tantrum. In public. Didn’t care. Sort of.
Deep breath. A reasonable explanation. Life continues as normal although my confidence is rattled. Someone at the next table, in a large party, had a more philosophical view of his bad day at whatever he had done. He kept saying to anyone within hearing distance that he had “sucked balls” that day. If only I could be so philosophical perhaps I could’ve avoided a temper tantrum, moved on with a little confidence intact. Next time I have a bad day, that’s what I’m going to tell anyone who will listen. Well, maybe not exactly those words but my own version.
Dinner was good. I had gnocchi in a pumpkin cream sauce with spinach and crispy sage. Yum! Wine would’ve been better than beer as an accompanying beverage but the stout was quite good. A Whistler brew I think. And a bear wandered through town near a playground. No one was terribly alarmed, although it was cool to witness.
We stayed at the Pemberton Valley Lodge, which was nice and within walking distance if we hadn’t been beat. We slept in again but got going early enough. It was a brand new day. I was feeling more philosophical about my riding ability and my cleat had been fixed with some locktight at the bike store the evening before. Riding with two pedals would help at least somewhat.
We took the same steep gravel road up then went toward Mosquito Lakes. We were covered in both sunscreen and bug spray this time. The single track trails still had plenty of obstacles I couldn’t ride (or thought I couldn’t) but it was definitely more fun. A lot more riding, less walking. Mostly I only had to dismount to push over some obstacles. I rode down one that maxed my suspension; nearly left tread marks on my backside from hanging so far back behind the seat. Success! But it was intimidating. I refused to ride anything that hard for the rest of the day. One success was enough. Might as well hang on to the victory instead of finding out it was just luck and rattle my confidence with a crash later.
The trails seemed more groomed for the most part. I didn’t have as much trouble with big rocks. And no switchbacks. There was steep slickrock but those were short sections. Plenty of bear scat littered the trail but we didn’t see any wildlife, aside from mosquitoes and maybe a squirrel. We rode down a trail that T’d. I had no idea which way Randy went but ultimately made the right decision. When I caught up to him he got a scolding. However, he hadn’t even seen the option to go in the opposite direction. We kept riding. And eventually found out that we should’ve turned the other way back at the T that had caused my consternation. So much for a clearly marked route. It will probably be better marked for the actual race.
We ran into another party of local riders. After we described what we had ridden the previous day (the 100 switchbacks) one of the riders commented that it was a “fun” trail in a torturous sort of way. I’m glad he shared my sentiment, which also helped me put that ride into proper perspective (it wasn’t that great for the mere mortals). By then we had a long downhill in front of us followed by a short flat ride along the railroad tracks back to the car. Ultimately Randy got a lot of his questions about the trails answered and has an understanding of what to expect on race day. The ride won’t be too difficult for him, which is good since it’s his first marathon distance race.
On the way back we stopped at Whistler for lunch. Randy tried the poutine, which is a gruesome-sounding concoction of french fries, cheese curds, and gravy. To my surprise it was quite good. The gravy isn't the flour-y brown paste that we often get here in the US. It was more of a demi-glace. The combination was astoundingly good. Maybe that's only after a mountain bike ride. And the portion size was quite reasonable (not Super-Sized).
People were still skiing the upper parts of the mountains via the lifts. There were a lot of tourists and the mountain bike downhill course was open. An interesting mix of people and things to do in an adult Disneyland sort of way. I’d like to come up and ski for a week next ski season even though I know that the crowds and tourists will get old in a hurry.
The trip home was fairly easy, even the border crossing back into the US. As enamored as I am with that area and pretty much all of British Columbia I couldn’t help but be amazed when we crossed into Washington and Mt. Baker came into view. Canada has some beautiful, beautiful mountains that invite adventure. But there’s nothing like a snow-capped volcano that stands out way above all the other snow-covered mountains that surround it.
Here’s a link to the photos: http://www.flickr.com/photos/seashe66/show/