Rolling On: Vancouver, Squamish, Bellingham WA

August 23, 2010: Back on the road

Two weeks in Vancouver sealed the deal for me and making my way back to the west coast sometime post-masters. It was cram-packed with the usual shenaningans- nights on the town, the grouse grind, BBQs on the beach, tennis with Roo, homemade indian food, canoeing in Deep Cove, and climbing in Squamish- sprinkled with a few visits to the MHPM Vancouver office.

Gearing up to climb Smoke Bluffs, Squamish

The view from halfway up.

Climbing. Thanks to Emily and Lisa for the expert lessons in trad climibing, but Heather and I stuck to top down.

Heather and I. Taking in the view while Emily and Lisa did their thing with trad climbing.
I should note, this was Heather's third time putting on a harness. First time outdoor climbing. WELL DONE!

The view from Jesse's humble abode.
It was just under two years ago that Mom, Julie and I ventured here as the classic tourists for a kayak adventure. Wewould have paddled right by Jesse's place!

Welcome back BBQ at Jericho for Jesse and Ruth after 2.5months on the road touring the US.
Jesse grilling, and WASHOOS in the background. What's WASHOOS? Two boxes,each with three holes. Eight washers. Sort of like horshoes, but throwing washers into the holes for points. It's right up there with frolf/beersby, bocce, and croquet.

Canoeing at Deep Cove.
Ruth's "young buck" boyfriend, Jesse, is living the life right on the ocean in this tiny town outside of Van.

Ruth missed the "homeliness" of baking and we went to town in the kithen at 3357 West 7th.
My first pie! With fresh blackberries picked from right outside Jesse's in Deep Cove.

Sunny Sunday at Spanish Banks

With Margot back home in Metis for her summer vacation, Katharine back to Georgian Bay for some Ontario cottage life, Heather and Erin off to Vancouver Island, and Ruth off again to Tadoussac, Quebec, I figured it was about time I hit the road again.

Bellingham, Washington has been on my hit list of great kiting spots for a while now, so I headed straight south to this tiny town to spend a few days camping, hiking, and sailing the Washington coast.

I checked in with the local kite shop to ask about wind conditions and any camping recommendations. After making plans to kite the next day, I found myself arriving at the nearby Larrabee State Park on a busy Saturday evening with all sites full. It was nearing dusk and my options were limited- fortunately traveling as a lone female does come with some perks- namely sympathy for a lack of planning. The park ranger let me use an "emergency" site, which ended up being far more appealing than the usual selection (imagine ram-packed sites, RVs and massive tents a plenty, screaming kids and raging generators). It was a hike-in site, but I was more than happy to make the trek to escape the weekend RVer noises.

By the time I had a good fire going, my tent setup, and some food re-heated, I was exhausted. Note to Smith/Storm: where's a solid fire-building team when you need one? The dry spruce was in abundance, but everything takes twice as long when you're on your own. If work sucks, then you are both more than welcome to re-join me. Washington is fantastic!

Larrabee State Park, WA

Sunset at Larrabee State Park, WA

Not that I'm keeping track of the "best days of my life," but if I was, yesterday would rank amongst the top ten. I woke up in total solitude, packed up my gear, and wandered back along the highway until I found a trailhead I was certain I saw on the way in. The wind wasn't going to pick up until mid-day, so I figured I'd find a short hike to pass the time. Despite my searching on the Gremlin, I couldn't find a visitor's centre to get a trail map. The Park Rangers were also useless. 

When Storm left, he also took his Gremlin with him. In and around Vancouver, I was a-okay with navigating. Driving south, however, was a different story. I conceded to it's usefullness and bought my own before heading into Washington. Getting lost can be a ball when you're not on any kind of timeline... but not so fun when your by yourself and you have no one to laugh about it with.

So I took a mental snap shot of the info board which showed a blurry, faded trail map. It looked to be a 2-3mile hike. Maybe I took a wrong turn, maybe I just mis-read the map, maybe I am a much slower walker than I thought- but I didn't make it back to the highway until 4 hours later.

The wind had picked up at a solid 15-18 knots and while my legs were burning from some steep climbs,I didn't want to risk the wind dying for the next week and not getting on the water (as is my usual luck).

I managed to catch a ride for a deep water start on the local kiteshop's seadoo and got an incredible 3.5 hour session in as the sun was setting. While I would have loved to keep going and the wind was still going strong, my body was telling me otherwise.

Locust Beach, outside Bellingham, WA

Hiking in the Chuckanut Mountains, WA

Trail critters

Not me (water starts make it tough to get photos...), but other kiters at Locust Beach

I made it back to the State Park after dusk, hiked into a remote site, started a fire, had a turkey sandwich, and enjoyed a half bottle of chardonnay. The fact that it cost only $4 made it that much tastier.

I packed up this morning with plans to head south- not sure where to exactly. I stopped for breakfast at a great lookout spot along the highway and met two young missionaries- they were maybe 16-17 years old, and extraordinarily friendly. These two young men, named Elder Zachariah and Elder Isaac, were currently living in Mount Vernon and were enjoying their one 'day off' a week and checking out the Bellingham coast. Apparently all missionaries preface their name with Elder. One was born in Missouri, the other born in Japan, and combined, they have lived in over 20 states. I guess since it was their day off they saved me the 'conversion schpeel' and were everyday, interesting people to talk to. The one says, "You know those guys who wear white shirts and black ties with books- that's what we do."

Breakfast stop.

Despite the beauty of this coastline, this FREQUENTLY used train tack ran right by the Sate Park and kept me from any kind of deep sleep.