Lovely little lake, right???At this point, I must set forth a few indisputable facts:
1 - The Sea to Sky Highway is meant for cars - as it's a highway
2 - Familiarity with trails is essential to hiking confidence
3 - I do not like heights
We passed 15-20 lovely picnic tables - one of which hosted a full on BBQ and smelled delightful - and started following orange blazes on trees (note: this indicates hiking 'lite' and so we set our expectations). It was a relatively challenging trail in that it boasted a significant elevation change in a short distance, but there were stairs that trail maintenance folks had crafted and it was very user friendly. We took the trail leading to the Quercus Viewpoint and got to the top within half an hour. Upon arriving at the actual viewpoint, Philip and the kids took off and I said I was fine just waiting for their return. Shortly after they disappeared from sight, I started psyching myself up - there was only a 4ft elevation change from where I stood to the summit - and while the rock was steep, my family had just ambled up as if it was nothing. Surely I could do it too - I mean, I've watched Spider Man, I understand spreading your body out and finding nooks and crannies for your hands and feet. My bravado up, I scrambled up the rock face about halfway - meaning there were 24 vertical inches or so between me and flat ground - twenty four INCHES. Enter fatal mistake - I looked down. And in that moment I resonated with every single cartoon character who has seen the world beneath them spinning, and I froze. In that singular moment I morphed from 'brave mama who's totally got this' to 'Spidey Stuck' and my superhero delusions ended abruptly.
Initial ascent - note orange blaze
Trees conquering mountains - they're the real deal
About halfway to the viewpoint
We just hiked that
As I stuck on that granite face pretending it was my new kitchen countertops, I noticed a little evergreen tree who'd made itself at home on that perilous stone facade - we had a Tom Hanks/Wilson bonding experience as my heart rate increased and my palms started sweating. As I clung there, telepathically summoning my family back to me, a couple emerged from the other side of the summit with their toddler. In an effort to avoid awkwardness (impossible), I said matter of factly, "I'm just watching for my family - they're better with heights than their mum." The dad responded - "It's only 10 more steps to where they are - you should just go join them."
What went through my head:
"Well, thank you Captain Obvious (aka ASSHOLE) with your child strapped to you back descending this sheer rock face as if it's your in-home staircase! Of course, I'll just scamper to meet the three I love most in this world - there's just this small matter of my being SUPER-GLUED to this rock while the world spins beneath me, and the fact that I'm about to faint."
What came out of my mouth (thankfully):
"That's alright - it's good to hear their stories."
And they left - whew. It's easier to freak out when left alone.
But I wasn't alone for long - two precious dogs and their humans came along next - with a person who my children would assume a grandparent hiking alongside them. They acted like they didn't see me (how nice) and urged their dogs to show them how easy it was to descend this death trap with their four paws. And away they went.
Scaling the summit - I stayed right in the spot where I'm pictured, similar position, frozen in time
The view I missed - I've dealt with it - as I averted a stroke
Brave babies!
Note the road below - that's the Sea to Sky Highway - it comes into play later
My hero :)
As a charley horse developed in my right hip, I bellowed for my husband and upon the third yelling of our family name, our valiant 11 year old son appeared. I calmly requested his assistance as I was still super-glued, and he dutifully stifled his laughter as he scooted down to assist. As he scooted, Philip and Lydia appeared and Philip asked (jokingly), "Are you stuck?" Through gritted teeth and high heart rate haze, I meekly replied, "Yes." He thought I was joking. I was not.
He got me turned around and helped me scale down the 24 inches to flat ground (and let's be honest, even if I'd gone all 'dead bug' and just fallen down, I'd only have risked a minor elbow abrasion or so) - I began to see clearly and my knees quit pretending to be jell-o after a bit. We went down a different way than we'd come up - following the same orange blazes back to our car - or so we thought.
Orange blazes morphed into pink ribbons emblazoned with the name "Skid Trail" - y'all - Skid Row is more inviting. Perspective: we were the only ones 'hiking' in this area WITHOUT rappelling gear - no joke. We slid down moss covered rocks on our bums, climbed more rock faces and clung to trees to keep ourselves from tumbling down to the bottom of wherever we thought we were. We finally came upon a group of folks rock climbing (with packs, food, several pairs of shoes and HELMETS), they assured us the worst was over and we'd enjoy the rest of the hike. Let it be said - we were enjoying ourselves, but it was clear Philip and I both had unspoken concerns about the passage of time and how it might impact our progress toward our car. Thankfully, night doesn't fall in BC until well after 9:30PM this time of year...
I can fake pure joy - let it be noted.
Yeah - that's a trail - can't you tell?
The "OH CRAP, WHAT?" moment...
We started at the top of that rock in the background - no lie.
We descended into a cedar forest known as "Down through the Cedars" - it was lovely, really - but we lost track of our trail markers as we followed the path...the path that came to an end. And so, we retraced our steps, grateful for Lydia's keen eye and her discovery of the first orange blaze we'd seen in over half an hour. Confidence restored, we journeyed on - victory in our clutches - back uphill, past more rock climbers, and to another dead end. Dead. End.
Cedar Forest - yada, yada...
We gathered our senses and surveyed our surroundings - noting the road noise was closer, there were power lines in sight and a red trail marker across the stream from us. After taking turns crossing a fallen log over the stream, we found ourselves closer to the road noise and nose to nose with the red trail marker - which turned out to merely be a marking for the power lines anchored to the boulder in front of us. We decided to walk toward the road - yes, this goes against everything we've ever taught as parents - and we began scaling rocks. Yes - SCALING ROCKS - until we topped out and broke through grass onto the (you guessed it) SEA TO SKY HIGHWAY (meant for cars). And we began to walk - and saw the sign we'd seen earlier today noting it was 400m to the entrance to Murrin Park. Thankfully, after about 200m, a concrete barrier wall separated our pedestrian selves from the speed demon cruisers descending from Whistler and we were on a gravel path running alongside that innocuous lake once more. We were just on the other side. The kids sprinted the last bit to our car and we intentionally headed straight for Howe Sound Brewery - for we had had a brush with Death and lived to tell the tale - appys and adult beverages were in order.
Annnnd - the OTHER side of the lake...
In classic irony, we arrived home and my Vivo Fit yelled that I needed 1500 more steps to reach my daily goal. Oh you smug little computer chip who hitchhikes everywhere on my wrist. My goal today was simply not to have a stroke whilst hugging a mountain and I did that AND more. You, dear Vivo Fit, may kiss my hind end as today's achievement has been unlocked.
