In less aggravated news, I finally sucked it up and paid for a Lynda.com subscription. At $25/month, this is a classy service. I blew through the entire CS3 Premier Pro tutorials in a few days, but since I skipped the exercise files, I found that upon trying to actually DO something, I couldn't quite remember each of the little steps. Obviously, my brain lacks proper plug and play support. I'm declaring a mulligan.
Speaking of mulligans, for New Years this year I wanted a redo. Last year, Kate arrived back in Vancouver on Dec 22nd. We were both sick, and our excesses made us sicker. By New Years, our hopes for spectacular holidays had been obscured by kleenex and sneeze germs decorating every surface and pine needle to a depth of about 3'. We were asleep/passed out cold by 8:30pm New Years. Only pure fresh love let us find this funny, and we snuggled and snored away the start of 2007.
Well, not THIS year, we vowed!! We started planning extreme adventures early. I bought a copy of Exploring the Coast Mountains on Skis, and then after more recon planning and research, Avalanche Safety debuted on our bookshelves. This I read in a night, furiously taking in all the variables, snow types, resources, and dig-out strategies. We found ourselves at MEC, buying avalanche shovels (yes, how romantic...), and stocking up on other esoteric supplies. Our plan? To use our new $18 map to find Gariabaldi Park, and snowshoe up to Elfin Lakes and the overnight shelter there over New Years!! We had our lists, the weather was with us, and we got it all together and actually packed in advance.
And then the morning of the 31st came. Kate slept peacefully while I read headlines, sipped 3 cups of coffee with Baileys (don't judge me, it's Christmas!) and then I quiety overpacked, repacked and then concocted an elaborate 3 course dinner (with apertifs) that would be the envy of every dehydrated dinner-pouch deploying ninny on the mountain. We then had only to wake up the other half of us, shower, double-check the avalanche bulletins (my new obsession) and roads, and we were off. Well... Off through the downtown, across the mess of the Lion's Gate, through West Vancouver, over to Kate's aunts' to drop off Dallas, some conversation, (Dear God, you don't carry cell phones??) oh- and we need extra batteries and hummus so let's just stop in Squamish (what, we didn't need batteries? what are these extra batteries for??), some Starbucks, and then... hmmm- this drive is taking longer than expected. I think it was fully 1:30 in the afternoon by the time we reached the upper parking lot and started strapping on snow-shoes, packs, and paying for parking and our cabin...
Onward and upward! By the 15 minute mark, my asthma was declaring itself in full Petrarchan epthithets, and I'd shed my scarf, hat, mitts and extra fleece. I used the Whiskey Jacks at the first viewpoint as an excuse for pictures (where you can't detect my wheezing), and then we were off again. Almost 2 hours of uphill passed, as we trudged ever higher to Red Heather hut and painfully, all the way to 1450m, and one Gorgeous View.
Unfortunately, at about this point- it's now about 4pm and getting dark- we learn that rangers were just by, and the shelter that sleeps 30 already has 40 people in it, and we're now an hour to darkness. We have 2 hours to go to the shelter, and the altitude, coldness and my asthma means that I'm stopping constantly. Such a cold-weather weenie!! How dare I have amassed 15 years of Climbing magazines!!
I calculate. The trail has been busy. How many people are going to reach that shelter in the 2 hours it will take us? I guesstimate another 15+ easily. (Maybe you made it up there, and can tell me how it was...) This means we'll be forced to get there in the dark and start piling up snow for a quinze- oh my God, and neither of us have ever done this, though we know the general theory. How could we not, when I love to stock the shelves with survival ware... Also- we have thermarests, but no tarp to keep us dry on the snow, and no tent. Reality keeps attempting to check in to my hotel, and I keep resisting. The view from this spot is AMAZING. When I stop my incessant clomping upward, I'm dazzled with the view.
I think how the view will be when we arrive at the shelter unwelcomed, as guests 57 and 58, and have to stake out a likely spot to start digging... in the dark. Hmmm, while cold and exhausted and hungry- I didn't bring a stove, since we'd planned to stay in the shelter. The only mitigating circumstance was the ouzo, and I'm fairly sure we had insufficient supplies to make this a memorable experience in the manner intended...
After fully taking in the view- I finally threw it down. "We have to turn around," I said to Kate, who looked like she could snowshoe another 50 days without perspiring detectably. We debated a while, and then turned back. The trip back down was so pleasant, and our speedy descent reversed my chill and had me toasty warm in no time.
We reached the vehicle just after dark, and by this time we were freezing again. Another hour and a half back to West Van to get Dallas, and visit with her family (who heartily re-affirmed we'd made the right decision, exclamation mark, exclamation mark), and we were home by 9pm or so- completely exhausted. Kate woke me at midnight when the neighbours set off their fireworks, and wished me a Happy New Years.
You too, love. Let's do something really spectacular next year though, hey?
