When it’s all sun and cherry blossoms in Vancouver, it’s hard to imagine that a short 1.5 hour drive away you could be faced with snow - and lots of it. All over the trail and in your way while you’re trying to be active so you can justify drinking more champagne.  That’s why in the pictures below we look terribly under-dressed for such arctic conditions, just so you know.

On Friday, we decided to head up to Whistler and walk the Lost Lake loop trail with Whiskey. We packed the following essential hiking supplies, none of which are available at MEC:

• Tim Horton’s water – check
• Unfinished squares of Mink’s PB & hint of J chocolate bar – check
• Begging Strips for Whiskey – check
• Half a bottle of champagne  – check

Luckily, despite the lake’s frosty appearance, it was really quite mild out. Even luckier, our trained eyes spotted the perfect opportunity to chill our champagne with a quick burial in the parking lot snow drift. Here are instructions for a lovely day and night in case you find yourself in a similarly distressing situation:

First, dig a hole.

Second, place the champagne in the hole (bury it a little so other hikers don’t find it before you get back).

Warning: your dog will look highly unamused at being delayed.

Once the champagne is secured in its bed of ice, commence hiking.

If the road looks treacherous, take some time to ponder your options.

We suggest finding some grandfather’s beard in order to look more ponderous than usual.

Whatever you do, do not fall into the ice. It is, afterall, called Lost Lake for a reason. Chances are no one will find you.

Rest often.

When you finish the 5km loop, drink the champagne.  Don’t be afraid to pretend you hiked farther than you did. The champagne will taste better the farther you say you hiked.

Next, get a walk-in rate ($159/night; dog bed included) at the Whistler Hilton.  

Do not eat soup at the Mix at the Ric’s. Even if you are really, really poor and think soup will save you money, get the burger. Trust me.  

Finally, re-live your respective  pre-wedding parties like it’s 1999 at Buffalo Bills. 

Eat breakfast here if you care about things like bacon and hashbrown (and you should!).

Then, return home along the confusing new sea-to-sky (it’s so disorienting not to see the Horseshoe Bay ferry terminal anymore) without ever once mentioning to your wife/girlfriend/buddy that she/he sleeps with their mouth open like a stoned caveman.

Because I have been in the smelly back corners of Main Street vintage shops, I ask you this question: is this gross or genius?

A Vancouver-based company named Coat Check is saving mink coats everywhere. Yesterday’s social faux-pas is today’s designer recycled good. The Coat Check ladies refurbish old fur coats into reincarnations of plush throws, pillows and personal accessories – and sell them back at an upscale price ($250 for the pillow above).  All this from their studio space in Chinatown! I am intrigued.   

I am also curious. How do you communicate to those Liberation BC protestors that your new bag is really made from a very friendly, green rabbit? Lately, fur has pretty much been the domain of those who want to look fancy-hookerish (please see: Yaletown, Fridays) and the Queen E crowd on Opera nights.  In the home, however, it’s a different story. My mind immediately jumps to that faux white Ikea rug that was so popular last season (and nothing is cuter than my naked naphew on that rug). Then it jumps to lazy mornings in bed, cold winter nights, fireplaces, hot chocolate, reading on Sundays.  

There is just something comforting to me about fur in general. Something very half-man, half-steed.  Something that smells more like nature-in-the-raw when the mountains all around are deocrated with ski hills and condos.  I can almost hear Pan’s flute now…

Coat Check on Etsy.  

Known to her neighbours as a nice, quiet and unassuming girl who rarely sheds her conservative side, she was kidnapped Friday afternoon from work by a crazy woman and her three friends. Authorities have released the following mugshot:

Beware, these suspects are considered armed and dangerous.  

Jennifer was last seen in Whistler, held captive by the suspects pictured above, emerging from the Pan Pacific. Security cameras in the village caught footage of her looking something like this:

Needless to say, her family is in shock.

Today, a province-wide search commences for a blonde pirate, a salsa-dancing devil, what appears to be a boa-clad evil kitten and a turtlenecked woman going by the name of Whoreton.

All tips on this case will be fully exhausted by a committed search team lead by this man:

Her friends and family say there is little hope this Monday.

Over and Out,

Tamara Taggert

I had to share these last pictures from our weekend. Let me introduce you to “the nest.” It wouldn’t be fair if I didn’t admit that the nest, as a whole, was rather lackluster. Sure, the pillows weren’t spotlessly clean and no, the sheets weren’t totally dry…

…but oh some moments here and there, especially when the sun hit the screen, all wavy from the river…

…we were in heaven. So instead of spoiling the nest, I give it to you here, close up, because…

…that’s how we were.

And now the the few last photos from our trip. After all, it’s almost Saturday again. This weekend’s adventure is Ash’s 30th Birthday party. Stay Tuned.

Kw’o:kw’e:hala eco vacation retreat

67400 Tunnels Rd.
Hope, BC, Canada
V0X 1L1

And this is an entry like no other…turn up your volume.

Earlier this week, Anna Spiro of Absolutely Beautiful Things, featured a collection of outdoor showers, which made it very hard for Ash to say no when I insisted I just had to share this photo of him in all his fresh-air bathing glory. After all, this is the epitome of freshness. A world away from townhouses and office buildings. A 1.5 hour drive to calm. The shower is on the edge of the Coquihalla River. Let’s pretend Ash turns left to let the water run down his back. Here’s what he’d see:

I only wish I had an audio clip for you. Before we left for our adventure weekend, I had the crazy idea that I needed to cleanse. I was ready to commit to a four-day sentence of drinking lemon juice with cayenne and maple syrup (I don’t know where I get these ideas). But two, simple days of breath, words and thoughts carried silently away on the back of a constant river and I was stilled. Almost instantly.

I’ll post more photos of our stay at the Kw’o kw’e hala Eco-Resort later today…

A wee peak at Champagne Wednesdays’ new friend: Adventure Saturday! It’s a loose brand, but one I hope to incorporate not only into our lives, but into this blog as well. As for the pics above, stay tuned later this week for a tour through our weekend escape to Kw’okwe’hala Eco Resort near Hope, BC.

To finish Thursday’s sleep-in somewhere like this. Bury limbs under heavy quilts that smell like pine. Prop ourselves up on pillows, rest the spines of books on each others backs. Lost in scarves, hats, mittens, if we need them. Later, two steamy lattes in hand, walk whiskey down the long road to the pace of a river nearby. Dinner under a roof of salvaged wood. Sleep without sound or light.

Thanks for all your tips on the gumboots. They will come in handy.

Jen

Something about having less than 100 days until Ash and I get married is making me a bit of a Weepy Wendy (sorry, Wendys!). For instance, when I saw this picture of my beautiful sister (and Maid of Honour) and my handsome brother-in-law from their wedding in Naramata. I know what you are thinking, how can you beat that? The sun was shning, a long table was set under a vine draped veranda, the smell of grapes, wine, amazing cheeses and love were in the air. It was so….them. And that’s what Ash and I are trying to do with our wedding. Create a moment, a night, that says something about the life we are madly, amazingly, clumsily stitching together. I have no idea how it will all unravel. Some days I want to throw up (in the good way, honey). Some days I mutter why oh why couldn’t we just do Vegas like I wanted? Most days, I just sit here (yes, at work) hoping nobody notices that I’ve turned into a neurotic version of myself, now named Wendy, who is obsessed with the finding the perfect mix of songs to express us.

I thought I was passed mixtapes?

Old flower. Foreign Book. It’s good to find things you thought you’d lost. It’s sad to lose things you’d rather find.

It’s been too long since I’ve posted. I hope I haven’t lost my few faithful readers. I said there was more to come, and there is…

In the meanwhile, I have been reconnecting on Jaimie’s farm here  and talking the night away here and planning a wedding here.  

Now it’s just time to settle in, get comfy and wait for the weather and the sadness of goodbyes to clear.

Here is a picture of Jaimie, Al and the kids caravaning their way to a new adventure…

Jen