First Road Trip
Vickie and I took our first road trip this past weekend, driving up to Whistler to stay with many of our friends. Along the way we had many pleasant experiences and our relationship has grown despite (or perhaps because of) being forced to spend so many hours together.
As a brief aside, consider the following: which border crossing should be more difficult? USA or Canada?
Friday afternoon we set out. Loading the car with reasonable efficiency and soon falling into the thick traffic of rush hour. Many hours behind everyone else's departure, we could only hope they would still be awake to let us in to the room. But after fighting through the snows of Everett, we took a brief stop for Arby's. Dinner in hand, and soon in belly, our drive continued north, ever fearful that the snow would return and our trip would end. A stop in Bellingham for gas was all of our need.
At Canada (Peace Arch), after a 15 minute wait, I nearly talked my way out of entry as the guard attempted to determine why the two of us were (supposedly) going to Whistler. But following the dozen questions, he was satisfied and let us enter. Simple navigation set us again on the highway north. And into new snow. Again the heavy snow came down and traffic slowed. Marcia's please arrive by 10pm became increasingly difficult, yet we pushed on. Then on Sea to Sky, the snow wasn't. So by construction and dry pavement, we carried forth into the Artic north. 70 miles later, into Whistler. Dodging pedestrians, and mistaken turns we finally found the hotel. Calling out, Marcia said "we're not here yet, check-in for me". So we did. Then carried our gear up, got changed for bed, then sat on the couch trying to stay awake until the other 10 guests arrived. Eventually they did, having taken almost 5 hours more than we to go the distance.
Saturday began with blue sky and sun. Quickly, with as much speed as someone sleeping six hours on the ground can manage, everyone partook of breakfast and geared up for cold and snow. I waved good bye to Vickie and loaded the gondola for Whistler, excitement building. The mountain impressive to behold, down the first run I went. The turns were good, snow also. Then trying to shake the rust out, I did some quick turns and went down. For the rest of the day, nothing was as good as those first five minutes. Lunch came and went. In the afternoon, I tried to ride the run "The Saddle" but the wind had blown much loose snow away. And the remainder of the run became an exercise in closed lifts, but eventually I found a route back up. A couple more runs and I was tired of what I came for, and looked forward to what I brought. So I rode down the icy lower slopes, unclipped and called Vickie. Ahead of the rest, I changed for dinner.
13 people sat for dinner. While waiting Vickie and I received a brief explanation into the intricacies of steak. So armed, we were ready to order. The Prime Rib ranout before Vickie's order could take, so instead she went with my selection: 10oz Filet Mignon (Medium). Delicious. Originally thinking leftovers, some of Vickie's steak remained. Others at the table eyed it, after eagerly consuming the remnants from other plates. To protect, I downed it myself. And an extra potato. And some vegetables. Besides the salad and bread before the meal. Then ordered the 4 layer chocolate cake. Polishing it off, I asked her if she'd like to go for ice cream. Instead back to the room and sleeping bags.
Sunday looked like Saturday, though we instead readied ourselves for church. In addition to its regular congregants, the Whistler Vally Church also hosted 6 from Seattle, 2 from England, and 3 from South Africa. While different from our traditions, it was still nice to worship God together. After the service, Vickie and I rode the gondola up. We took some photos and had lunch at 6000'. Ran into a couple friends during lunch. Then back down the mountain. (I'll assemble a separate photo post, once I've gone through all of them).
Vickie and I then departed for America. Having no looming deadlines, we regularly took side adventures for photographical opportunities. The border crossing was a reported 15 minutes according to signage, but I think it took less. The USA guard was satisfied after two questions, as we were bringing nothing back into the States (since I didn't leave any leftovers from Vickie's steak).
We stopped in Bellingham for dinner, then went down to the water to watch the sun set. And some pedestrians walking train tracks when a train came around the bend. For Vickie and I, she skipped a stone and I saw an otter. We were both happy.
Unfortunately, the drive appears to have been too much for my car, as 2nd gear has gone AWOL. Now, I guess, back to work.
As a brief aside, consider the following: which border crossing should be more difficult? USA or Canada?
Friday afternoon we set out. Loading the car with reasonable efficiency and soon falling into the thick traffic of rush hour. Many hours behind everyone else's departure, we could only hope they would still be awake to let us in to the room. But after fighting through the snows of Everett, we took a brief stop for Arby's. Dinner in hand, and soon in belly, our drive continued north, ever fearful that the snow would return and our trip would end. A stop in Bellingham for gas was all of our need.
At Canada (Peace Arch), after a 15 minute wait, I nearly talked my way out of entry as the guard attempted to determine why the two of us were (supposedly) going to Whistler. But following the dozen questions, he was satisfied and let us enter. Simple navigation set us again on the highway north. And into new snow. Again the heavy snow came down and traffic slowed. Marcia's please arrive by 10pm became increasingly difficult, yet we pushed on. Then on Sea to Sky, the snow wasn't. So by construction and dry pavement, we carried forth into the Artic north. 70 miles later, into Whistler. Dodging pedestrians, and mistaken turns we finally found the hotel. Calling out, Marcia said "we're not here yet, check-in for me". So we did. Then carried our gear up, got changed for bed, then sat on the couch trying to stay awake until the other 10 guests arrived. Eventually they did, having taken almost 5 hours more than we to go the distance.
Saturday began with blue sky and sun. Quickly, with as much speed as someone sleeping six hours on the ground can manage, everyone partook of breakfast and geared up for cold and snow. I waved good bye to Vickie and loaded the gondola for Whistler, excitement building. The mountain impressive to behold, down the first run I went. The turns were good, snow also. Then trying to shake the rust out, I did some quick turns and went down. For the rest of the day, nothing was as good as those first five minutes. Lunch came and went. In the afternoon, I tried to ride the run "The Saddle" but the wind had blown much loose snow away. And the remainder of the run became an exercise in closed lifts, but eventually I found a route back up. A couple more runs and I was tired of what I came for, and looked forward to what I brought. So I rode down the icy lower slopes, unclipped and called Vickie. Ahead of the rest, I changed for dinner.
13 people sat for dinner. While waiting Vickie and I received a brief explanation into the intricacies of steak. So armed, we were ready to order. The Prime Rib ranout before Vickie's order could take, so instead she went with my selection: 10oz Filet Mignon (Medium). Delicious. Originally thinking leftovers, some of Vickie's steak remained. Others at the table eyed it, after eagerly consuming the remnants from other plates. To protect, I downed it myself. And an extra potato. And some vegetables. Besides the salad and bread before the meal. Then ordered the 4 layer chocolate cake. Polishing it off, I asked her if she'd like to go for ice cream. Instead back to the room and sleeping bags.
Sunday looked like Saturday, though we instead readied ourselves for church. In addition to its regular congregants, the Whistler Vally Church also hosted 6 from Seattle, 2 from England, and 3 from South Africa. While different from our traditions, it was still nice to worship God together. After the service, Vickie and I rode the gondola up. We took some photos and had lunch at 6000'. Ran into a couple friends during lunch. Then back down the mountain. (I'll assemble a separate photo post, once I've gone through all of them).
Vickie and I then departed for America. Having no looming deadlines, we regularly took side adventures for photographical opportunities. The border crossing was a reported 15 minutes according to signage, but I think it took less. The USA guard was satisfied after two questions, as we were bringing nothing back into the States (since I didn't leave any leftovers from Vickie's steak).
We stopped in Bellingham for dinner, then went down to the water to watch the sun set. And some pedestrians walking train tracks when a train came around the bend. For Vickie and I, she skipped a stone and I saw an otter. We were both happy.
Unfortunately, the drive appears to have been too much for my car, as 2nd gear has gone AWOL. Now, I guess, back to work.