FIELD TRIP

I got up at 3 a.m. to drive into work. It's my day off.

So why would I do that? Because the driver of the first bus that leaves in the morning offered me a trip up to Whistler. I haven't been up there for about 7 years, and so haven't seen the new highway. I also want to see what changes have been made for the Olympics. I want to drive the route up there to see the drop-off points for the workforce crew, the order they are in, how far apart they are, and other details so that I can be better informed when I am asked questions by the workforce because, so far, I have been able to answer hardly any.

My car gives me a lot of trouble on the way in. Ever since I had the new alternator installed, as soon as it warms up it starts to feel like it will stall, even when on the highway going 100km per hour. It usually only lasts five minutes or so then all is fine for the rest of the trip. This time it starts almost straight away and doesn't stop for most of the drive in. It's stressing me out hugely as I just can't afford to get it fixed and I don't want to miss any work.

I get there alright and the bus is pulling up to it's spot as I get out of my van. We leave about ten minutes later with only one other passenger, a woman in her late 50's - I would guess - who is a RN and applied to volunteer with the medical department but is working in print media. Go figure.

It's dark the whole drive up, but the driver - Patrick - gives a running commentary on the points of interest along the way. I listen attentively and it's a good thing because later I will need to remember what he's saying but I don't know that right now.

It's about a two hour trip and it's still dark when we arrive. Patric takes our passenger to the last stop. As we turn into the road that runs along the back of the new part of Whistler village, the trees lining the road are completely lit up with tiny blue LED lights and it looks like a fairy land. I try to take a photo but it doesn't turn out. I need to be on a tripod or at least leaning the camera against a solid object that isn't moving.

Once we drop off our passenger at the Whistler Village stop, we head back where we came from but this time Patrick turns into the other three stops; the media center, Whistler Creekside, and the last one, the Athlete's Village. Only we can't see the village because it's behind a bank of trees but there's a huge tent set up behind a security checkpoint. The buses for the athletes must drive into the tent and stop where bomb sniffing dogs and their handlers will go over each vehicle with a fine tooth comb. Once cleared, then they can continue on to pick up the athletes and transport them to their venue.

On the way back down the highway the sun is rising and the Tantalus Mountain Range is lit up pink. Patrick pulls over to a lookout point so I can get out and take some pictures. While we are there, an RCMP SUV pulls up to check on us. Apparently, any bus or vehicle that stops they come over to check out now that all security is beefed up for the games. There are RCMP all over the place. Even one on every street corner.








When we stop later for a doughnut and hot chocolate at Tim Horton's, there are at least 20 RCMP in there and I joke with them about the stereotype of cops and doughnut shops is true. We ask where they are from. Some are from Langley, some are from Ontario, and others from Alberta.

Patrick told us on the way up that there is a pod of whales in Howe Sound at the moment so now I am on the lookout for them. I spot something in the water far below and watch it for a bit but it doesn't move so I assume it's a log. I mention it to Patrick and he looks over and says that it is a whale. What I thought was a branch is it's fin. I am squinting at it, trying to make it out when suddenly it disappears under the water. Yep. A whale. We also see a few bald eagles in the trees at the side of the road near a small river. Apparently there have been a few black bears on the sandbar just up a short way from the bridge we drive over but there aren't any around today.

I ask Patrick about the trouble I am having with my car and he thinks it might be something as simple as low transmission fluid. I tell him I just had the oil changed and asked them to check all of the fluid levels and specifically that one and they said it was fine. But he tells me that unless they checked while the vehicle was running and in drive, you can't tell if it's low. Well I know they didn't do that as I was sitting in the car the whole time. So I need to do that as soon as I can.

When we get back to BCIT, Olga joins us and we turn around to make the trip back up to Whistler with a new group - three women and one young man. This time we are going to Whistler Olympic Park which is on the south side about thirteen miles from Whistler Village. It is full daylight now as it is 10 a.m. and the sky is blue with a few clouds. As we drive along, Patrick tells me that I will now give the guided tour that he gave me earlier. So I try to recall everything he said and remember most of it as we pass the mine at Britannia Beach, which used to be the largest copper mine in the British Commonwealth, and as well mined some gold, and is now a museum; Shannon Falls, the second highest waterfall in North America (or so Patrick said but when I check later at home, it's the third highest falls in B.C.); and The Stawamus Chief, the second largest rock and the largest granite rock-face in North America (or so said my ex).

It's a beautiful drive up in the daylight but so painfully free of any snow, at all, anywhere but on the highest peaks. Usually at this time of year, the snow is piled ten feet high at the side of the road where the plows have cleared it off. I know it's nothing we can do anything about, but it's kind of embarrassing. The whole world will be watching and there's no snow. In fact, I heard on the news yesterday that it's the warmest January on record since they started keeping records. There isn't any snow at the side of the road until we get to Whistler proper and then it's not anywhere close to what is normal.

We turn off at the road to WOP, the acronym we use all the time at BCIT, and before too long we pull into the large parking lot. There's another issue with the warm weather. A few of the huge areas they cleared for parking is so soft and wet, the buses get stuck. This is because they fully expected the ground to be frozen, as it should be in January. So now they are frantically trucking in gravel to fill and firm the soil in the last few days before the games start. So between trucking in gravel, and trucking in snow from Manning Park (a five hour trip, one way) to Cypress and then heli-lifting it to the runs, we must be going seriously over budget even more than anticipated. It's not cheap to rent those massive helicopters day in and day out. It's a nightmare, really. There's no other word for it.

There's a group of bus drivers just arrived on two buses along with the big boss from our post down at BCIT. He's brought a bunch of out-of-town divers up to learn the route and how the drop off and pick up will work in this huge lot. He is surprised to see me step off the bus and seems impressed that I would take a day off to come up here and learn the route.



When we head back I get a good look at the Peak to Peak Gondola that connects Whistler and Blackcomb mountains. It's really, really high up. My daughter rode it with her husband a few weeks ago and she said that when she looked down, she was terrified as they were hundreds of feet in the air. It looks terrifying from way down here. But I'd like to come back and ride it some day.

BACK WHERE I BELONG

On the second leg of my trip home, I struggle again to get my heavy backpack up in the overhead compartment and collapse into my seat. I am by the window and there is a young guy in the isle seat. The one between us is empty and as the plane slowly fills up it stays that way. As the last few passengers trickle in we look at each other with disbelief. "Wouldn't it be great if no one had this seat?" I say. "Yeah." he replies, "I hope it stays that way." We hold our breath as the last two passengers walk towards us. They keep going. YAY! He quickly moves his bag from under the seat in front of him to under the one in the middle. I tell him that I will put my bag in the space between his bag and the seat once we are up high enough that it doesn't have to be stowed and he is fine with it. I put my water-bottle and thick book on the empty seat so that it isn't taking up the few precious inches of space between my knee caps and the back of the seat in front. That is much better!

He and I get to talking and he tells me that he won this trip from work. He works for Dell computers and he placed high in sales last quarter. He and a few other colleagues are spending 5 days, all expenses paid, in Whistler. He hasn't been there before and wants to know what it is like. I gladly tell him and as I do, it feels SO GOOD to be the one who knows what it is like where we are going, and that I am going home. He gets two free excursions with the package and is going golfing but can't decide between white water rafting or zip lining. I tell him to find out which is the more expensive, use the voucher to pay for that and then instead of using his whole $50 allowance for lunch, go to McDonald's or somewhere cheap for a couple of days and pay for the other because both is spectacular and not to be missed. He thinks that is a great idea and says that is what he will do.

I pull out my laptop and get the events of the morning onto it before I forget exactly what happened and then, once my battery runs out, doze or read. It doesn't seem too long before I spot a big mountaintop poking up through the clouds. It's Mt. St. Helen's, easy to identify by the misshapen peak from the big blow up in '80. Sure enough, the pilot comes on and tells us we are beginning our descent. With all this cloud below it seems it won't be a sunny day in Vancouver.

I am wrong. Once I get my luggage, clear customs, and walk out into the reception area, I see Fran and she makes a bee-line for me. We hug. It is so great to see her and to be home. I quickly exchange the US money I have into Canadian at an exchange kiosk and then we walk out into sunshine and then into the parkade to find her car.

As we are driving away Fran tells me that we are meeting Cary for lunch at the Cactus Club in South Surrey. I am starving and really love their food and am so happy that Cary will be there. Fran, Cary and I are half of a group of moms that have met once a week or two for the past 20 years. We started out as a Mom's In Touch group but became such fast friends that we kept on meeting, even after our kids were long out of school. We always have lots to talk and laugh about when we meet and today will be no exception.

We arrive at Cactus Club and take a set on the patio. It's gorgeous out here with long bench seats that have fat cushions scattered on them and even soft lap blankets lying here and there. There is a cool fire pit that looks more like a coffee table on fire, surrounded by couches. The sun is streaming down and I am just loving this. We order some yam fries and I have an Arnold Palmer to start while we wait for Cary. She calls after a bit saying she will be late and to order her a fish taco. Once she gets here it's almost like I never left. We keep up a constant stream of chatter as we get caught up in each others lives. It seems not much has happened since I was gone. Fran comments on how, in the past 5 weeks, my life has been this crazy adventure with so much happening, and yet at home nothing unusual has occurred; life has just plodded along here. Well that is fine with me. One thing that has happened while I was away is all the spring flowers have come and gone. I love gardening and eagerly anticipate the profusion of color that bursts forth in the Lower Mainland once spring arrives. I feel kind of like you would if you found out a good friend from far away had been in town while you were gone. It's a bit sad, really. However, I get over it and we eat and gab and have a great time. As we are winding down and getting ready to leave, Cary makes a comment to me about this being a new start and, hopefully, I will get some 'wind in my sails'. I look at her askance and she slaps her hand over her mouth. "Oh, I am so sorry. Not a good metaphor at all." I laugh and tell her it's fine. "Let me see. What can I say instead?" her face screws up as she tries to come up with something more appropriate. Her next attempt is almost as bad but I can't recall what it was. We laugh and I tell her I appreciate the sentiment.

We decide to go look through some of the stores to see if we can find birthday presents for Lorraine. She is turning 50 on Monday and, although I won't be there while the mom's celebrate at Northview Golf Club, I want to make sure I send a gift along. We comb through Winners and I find a gorgeous, large glass apothecary jar. I'd love to own it myself, and it's the sort of thing that goes with any decor. It would look great Lorraine's bathroom full of soap or on the kitchen counter full of her fabulous biscotti. I buy it.

We go into Urban Barn so Fran can buy a picture that Bethany, her daughter, wants. She and Chad have just bought a new apartment and she saw this picture and asked her mom to get it for her birthday. Fran points out the chic brown couch that the newlyweds just purchased and she tells me to sit on the chaise part at the end to see how comfy it is. It seems a bit on the firm side to me, but I like to sink into a couch. We say goodbye to Cary and I fit Bethany's huge picture into the backseat and we head home.

I call each of the kids when we arrive at Fran's. Christopher tells me he is just leaving work and decides to drop by Fran's place on his way home. I fling open the door when he arrives, and we hug for a long time. I am so happy to see him and have missed him so much. He comes upstairs with me and the three of us have a great hour, laughing and catching up. My kids love Fran and she has always been so great to them. All too soon, Christopher has to leave as he has somewhere to be and needs to get home and shower. I reluctantly let him go as I know I won't see him again before I leave for Kelowna, and I don't know when I will be back.

Tom is away in Pemberton on his annual men's get-away so we will have the house to ourselves tonight. We talk about renting a movie and having a girls only night but by the time we clean up from a light dinner, we are both so bagged that we end up turning in early. At some point after we get home, I realize I left my pashmina scarf somewhere during the day. I know I had it when I left the Cactus Club. I get the phone number for Winners but they aren't very helpful. I call Urban Barn and they tell me they found it on the couch. Fran insist that we will make a trip out there to get it over my protests that it isn't worth it. She says she wants to buy a hanging basket at a nursery near there anyway. I know Fran and I know she is saying that so I won't insist that she needn't run out all that way just for my scarf.