We had this trip planned for the better part of a year. Our dear friends invited us to their timeshare in Whistler for a week and we blocked out the vacation on our calendars and all but forgot about it.
Finally, 2017 arrived and it occurred to us that we probably need to buy ski passes, arrange for a dog-sitter, and generally start planning to be gone for 9 days. With two days eaten up for travel, that left 7 days to play. Our discounted ski lift options were either 1, 3, or 5-day passes and it was agony deciding which way to go. We settled on 3 days and it ended up being the perfect amount.
We left Friday mid-morning, after slipping and sliding our way through an ice-coated Portland [insert funny stories about gas stations, fragile credit cards, bank teller errors, and a transient person here]. We stopped in a very snowy Vancouver, BC for a beautiful dinner with our friend’s former colleague, and continued slowly to Whistler (after a quick stop at Canadian Tire to invest in some decent ice scrapers). It was a long travel day in wonderful winter weather.
Our Creekside condo was lovely, greeting us with 3 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, a full kitchen, a washer/dryer, and a lovely view of snow-covered trees. The elephant in the room was the bedroom scenario: who gets the bunk beds and/or twin beds? Since we were technically the guests, Jesse & I channeled our inner 5-year old selves and embraced the bunk beds. We were in Whistler, who can complain!?
Saturday was a settling in day, of sorts. We slept in, went to brunch, stocked up at the grocery store, picked up everyone’s respective ski rentals, and wandered up and down (and up and down) the snowy sidewalks of Whistler Village.
Sunday we skied. It dumped an incredible amount of snow Saturday night and was a gloriously sunny day that morning. As expected, the line to the lift was 45 minutes long. It was cold, but the snow couldn’t have been more ideal and I couldn’t get enough of the views from the top. We were cutting through powder all day long.
We stopped for lunch near a random hut and sat in the snow to eat our sandwiches. Soon several fat little birds were swooping down on us, trying to steal our lunch! They would stalk us from atop our skis and then make their move. It was cute at first, but then they became brave and obnoxious, diving right at Jesse’s mouth!
After our 6 hours of skiing, Jesse and I scrambled up Blackcomb, literally ran to catch the last P2P gondola, and raced down the mountain before the last run call. It was a stressful, yet hilarious endeavor, but we made our happy hour date. We met at the bar for German sausages, hot chocolate, and the end of the Super Bowl (complete with an upsetting come back from the Patriots… what the actual f***?).
Monday was day #2 for skiing. The snow was still pretty good, but it was an extremely gray, cloudy, windy, and cold day. Because we spent most of Sunday on the backside of Whistler Mountain, we traversed over to Blackcomb for some variety. The snow seemed a bit icier and I was frustrated with how cold I was. We ended up stopping at the lodge for lunch and buying hand and toe warmers. It was hard to enjoy the day when I couldn’t warm myself up at all. We called it quits about 30 minutes early and headed back to the condo where I bee-lined it for the hot tub.
Tuesday was another sunny day and we slept in and slowly got around to making breakfast and then headed over to the Olympic Park for some snowshoeing. We ended up doing about 4 miles through the woods. It was much warmer and again, BC was too gorgeous for words. After several hours wandering through the woods, we headed back to Whistler Village because our friends had booked a bobsled ride! They went through an hour or so of training and then raced around the bobsled track for about 45 seconds. It was quite cool to watch! Later, in the hot tub, the relaxation of the evening was ruined by some drunken locals talking about Donald Trump, incompetent snow plow drivers, and seasonal employment. It was awkward and unpleasant but they eventually left and the world was good again.
One of our friends had to head back to Portland on Wednesday morning, so we dug her car out of the parking lot and said our good-byes…at 6 AM. Then the 3 of us headed to the trailhead to begin our Garibaldi Lake trek. It had snowed a fair amount and was going to be decent weather day… until the late afternoon. So we were working against the weather AND daylight, but were really just out to enjoy the snow. The first mile or so was up the road, as it is not plowed in the winter. We decided we were following the tracks of a skier and/or snowboarder combo, but were the only ones on the mountain otherwise.
The trail featured ~3,800 feet of climbing in a few short miles and about 650,000 switchbacks. We crossed a frozen lake, found a few incredible viewpoints, and enjoyed being in the Canadian Wilderness for the day. Besides my lengthy argument with a squirrel, we didn’t see anyone else on the trail until we were on our return trip. Eventually, we had to make the call to turn back before reaching our destination. We had no intention of sleeping on the mountain and the storm was rolling in. We headed back down, making up time on the descent and finishing just before dark. It was an epic day and I look forward to returning to complete the adventure in finding Garibaldi Lake.
My little toes were trashed from 14 miles in my snow boots. I suppressed a scream as the hot shower water rushed over my raw little piggies. Soon after that, I happily crawled into bed and fell asleep immediately. It had been a long day.
The plan all along was: on Thursday we rest. And indeed we did. It was a PJs-all-day type of day. It was cold and snowing all day long. The fireplace was on, the 3 of us nestled in, plugged into our various electronic devices, wrapped in blankets, and truly relaxing. That evening, we dug out the car and Jesse & I wandered to Whistler Village for a bank run (because who doesn’t need a foreign bank account in this political climate?) and, randomly, a haircut… and also a Whistler Blackcomb Hydroflask. Now there’s an adventure story.
Friday was day #3 of skiing and we were all in pretty rough shape. Jesse was sick and had black and swollen toes, our friend had leg/foot cramps, and yet again, I couldn’t warm up my body enough to enjoy the day. We begrudgingly spent a few hours on the slopes and just after lunch, we all gave in to the struggle. We made our way back to Creekside, enduring the icy moguls of Lower Franz’s. We spent the afternoon at the condo, slowly packing up the place and trying to eat all of our remaining food (which we gave up on and went out for tacos anyway, after several frustrating trips to the post office waiting on some important mail).
On Saturday, we made the drive home. It was a spectacular week and almost makes me want to invest in a timeshare of our own.