We woke up early and decided to get our own little road show
moving as we knew it would be a challenge to try and find a campsite near our
next destination of Whistler. Before
we got moving; however, we took the dogs out on a walk to check out Smoke
Bluffs, with great views of The Chief.
The weather started to clear up and our trip north to Whistler provided
exceptional views of the landscape.
We eventually found our campground at Cal-Cheak (pronounced “check”) and
were lucky enough to find the last good campsite to call home for the next few
days. We quickly unloaded and made
our way up to Whistler to take on the sites, sounds and yes, smells (think
stinky Cuban cigars). The wifer
was not ready for the masses of people herding their way through Whistler
Village.
We stopped at a local bike shop to buy a map and get some
local beta. The bike shop was
super friendly and provided us with more information than we could process
regarding local riding and some not-so-local riding further north. We ambled up towards the gondola ticket
counter to inquire about the top of the world trail when we realized that
somewhere along the line I no longer had the car keys. By deduction we had determined they
were at the aforementioned bike shop.
We made our way back and breathed a big sigh of relief when they pulled
them out from behind the counter for us.
After all this dilly-dallying we decided to take a day off and be
tourists. We went over to Alta
Lake (where the swim portion of the Ironman was held) and took in some rays
with the locals. At a leisurely
pace we worked our way back to the campsite where the dogs were doing a sound
job of checking their eyelids for leaks inside the trailer.
Whistler Day 2
When we checked in to the campsite we decided to reserve the
spot for two nights. This was a
wise move considering it was labour day weekend and very close to Whistler,
which was a sea of humanity. After
we got moving on Sunday morning we put a game plan together that consisted of
heading into Whistler and finding the trailhead for Comfortably Numb, or as the
locals call it, “Uncomfortable Bum”.
We felt like this was a good plan considering the dogs were tuckered out
and were likely more than happy to stay behind and catch up on their
sleep.
Another reason for trying to get an early start in Whistler
was due to the lack of parking everywhere in town. Fortunately we found a spot and started our ride heading
north towards the trailhead. As we
pedaled north I could not help but think of the Pink Floyd song of the same
name. I also recapped some of the
many ballyhooed stories from different riders that praised the trail. These stories rattled around in my brain
which caused some eagerness and slight anxiety about the technical nature of
the trail.
After meandering north for a few miles we found our
trailhead and started our ride in earnest. The trail immediately gave us a preview of what was in
store. What was in store were
roots, rocks, ladders, and a little bit of moisture for added effect. It was relentless and you had to be
aggressive as you pedaled in order to maintain momentum as you picked your
lines. It reminded me of some of
the riding out in the northeast where you get to hone your technical skillset.
After a couple of miles of bouncing along the trail eased up
in its technical nature but pitched up in gradient. Three hundred feet later the trail eased back into an easier
grade and the only easy riding of the day. This was the wifer’s introduction to technical BC riding and
she was battling the trail as much as it was battling her, i.e. she was walking
more than riding. We reached the
first mini-peak that led to a steep technical descent that had consequences if
you could not pick your line or ride that line. It was not for the timid, and the wifer was way in over her
head, and I am the first to admit there were a few spots where I dismounted to
avoid a yard sale.
At this point we came up to a group who cautioned us to slow
down as there appeared to be a rider down. As we got closer we asked if everyone was okay, to which
they responded in the affirmative.
About ten feet further down trail I noticed a trail of blood on the
rocks and realized that “okay” was a relative term. It was a quick reminder of not being too proud to dismount
and walk if something is outside of your comfort zone. I descended a little further until I
hit the junction with Young Lust and stopped to see how the missus was
doing. As I was waiting these two
young pre-teen Quebecois girls were crushing the downhill as their dad looked
on. I thought it was pretty bad-ass
that these two kids were riding the gnar and seemingly having no problems.
A few moments later the wifer showed up and informed me that
she went ass over teakettle somewhere along the tech descent. I asked if she was okay and could tell
that she was rattled. As we were
at the junction we had a decision to make: to continue on Comfortably Numb on
relentless, in-your-face tech trail, or take the Young Lust spur back. We erred on the side of safety and
decided to take Young Lust, but not before we took a quick downhill jaunt to
the bridge where the CN trail continued.
I’m glad we did, as it was an amazing bridge crossing with even more
amazing waterfalls thundering beneath it.
We made our way back up to the junction with Young Lust and followed the
steep descent which continued to keep you on your game. There was some bold riding on the
descent as you had to pick the right line and continue to be aggressive riding
through it (the wifer had a hard time just walking this part!). My bum hovered over my rear tire on the
steep descents in order to keep the weight towards the rear of the bike and
maintain control. There were times
where it felt like my nipples were hovering above my seat. I could see how this would be extremely
intimidating for anyone who was getting their first dose of this in-your-face
BC tech. (Erin’s note: try more
scared shitless) Admittedly, some
of these lines had significant pucker factor.
We eventually made our way back to the car and were no worse
for the wear although I think the wifer’s ego had been bruised. I tried to explain how it takes years
of riding hard core tech sections in order to be able to be more comfortable
riding that kind of terrain. She
looked at me like I was an alien since she stated she had been riding for
longer than the young girl we passed on the trail had been alive.
I am glad we got the opportunity to go ride this infamous
trail and if I were to have to rename it I would call it something along the
lines of Shaken but not Stirred, just like James Bond likes his martinis. After being slightly shaken we decided
to hit Whistler Village for a quick bite and a brewski. Unfortunately the parking was
nonexistent as all of the day lots were full with many people driving around
like vultures waiting for a spot to open up. We decided to hedge our bets and move along towards Whistler
Creekside, where the people were fewer and hopefully the parking more
abundant. We finally found a spot
that was open and had parking and settled in for a quick bite. It was not our first choice, but
considering parking was few and far between, we counted our lucky stars that we
were able to find something that was open.
We swatted away the bugs as we ate and determined to head
back to the campsite, pick up the dogs and take them out on an adventure. Erin had found a doggie park by one of
the local lakes and we thought Moby might enjoy pawing at the water as Otis got
intimidated by that same water.
However Otis found his inner waterdog and ran around and jumped in and
out of the water. He tried to
engage Moby in play, but Moby dog would have none of it as he was more focused
on pawing at the sand in the water.
After a while we packed up, stopped at the gas station and $100 plus
Canadian dollars later had a full tank of gas (the same amount as Erin’s ski
pants bought on sale in Squamish).
It was nice thinking we could go back to the campsite that we could call
home for a second night in a row.
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