Journey to Grande Cache

Epic scenery, epic push in our 1994 Plymouth Voyager (part transporter, part house) and plenty of nerves as the start of the 2010 Canadian Death Race approaches.

Some scenes from the journey from Squamish, British Columbia to Grande Cache, Alberta:

Sunset in central BC, and only 350km into the journey:

Leaving the rainforest-like lush of Squamish and seeing the red marscape of the BC interior ahead:

The Southern face of Mt. Robson, the highest point in the Rockies at 3954m. It is also the 3rd highest peak in British Columbia:

The Rockies, outside Jasper:

Wildlife crossing in action:

The warning at one of the trailheads in Grande Cache:

One of the valleys I will be running in at the end of the race:

Squamish Summer Solstice

The last 2 months have flown by and all of a sudden we arrived at the Summer Soltice. Unfortunately it was raining. Nevertheless, looking back we have had some amazing weather and enjoyed what it means to have Squamish in our backyard...

Cycling through Paradise Valley Road:

The mountains on a typical BC day:

The arrival of my birthday and having a cake made and poem written especially for me:

Picking wild Salmon berries and starting the process of making our own berry liquer:

(Below we are siphoning off the clear juice while leaving fine precipitate at the bottom)

A day downtown complete with icecream:

The Dog Boarding Ranch where I work 2 days looking after as many as 30 dogs. They play outside the whole day and it is our job to supervise their play - think doggie-day-care:

The clouds coming in thick and fast:

A rainbow over the Chief:

Cycling home from work:

Running the trails in my backyard (this one took me to the back of Shannon Falls):

Preparing the garden for summer:

(Below is our strawberry patch)

(Below we have a wild collection of flowers and herbs)

First Black Bear Encounter

This past weekend we spent the Saturday celebrating the 1st of May with our first "under-the-stars" fire. The sun had been shining all morning and as day stretched into evening, we walked up to a clearing in the forest near our house that offers great views of the coastal mountains (and an abundance of huge mosquitoes):

The next morning, the clear sky of the previous evening was nowhere to be seen - the downside of mountain living. Nevertheless, we stubbornly decided to "make the most of the day" and to go hiking. The weather was suggesting a book, hot chocolate, relaxing movie, afternoon nap...but we pushed on through the icy wind, the steep gradient of the almost uphill-only trail, the rain and fog... we were determined not to let a weekend go to waste:

When we reached the snow and had sufficiently wet our shoes and socks, we decided that this was the WORST hike EVER and that now would be a good time to turn around and walk the 10km downhill:

Halfway down though, our fortune changed. Down the trail we spotted a Black Bear scratching around and foraging for roots to eat. We had no idea what to do. We kept on whispering furtively to each other "Is it the Grizzly bear or the Black bear that is shy? No...I think it is the Black Bear...Are we meant to make noise or to walk away slowly? Or is that the technique with the Grizzly?" Our whispering stopped when the bear spotted us, perked it's ears and started ambling up the hill towards us. Then, all discussion ceased. Instinct took over and we backed away and hid in the scrub on the side of the road, both embarrassed not to face the cuddly looking animal a la Steve Irwin, but also relived to have some foliage between us and it's huge claws.

He soon walked off into the forest, and after another couple of minutes we decided to throw caution to the wind and that we were 95% sure that Black Bears were indeed shy and that if we made some noise it would be scared off. Apparently it worked!

Further down the trail our keen new bear instincts spotted the tell-tale sign that "the bear has was here...it's still fresh..." We looked at each other in agreement - this had been the BEST hike EVER!