Whistler – Nicolas Demers

That Last Step’s a Doozy

“Do one thing that scares you every day,” the bumper sticker says. In that case, I think I’ve saved up enough terror for the next couple of months. Because this weekend, some friends and I went to Whistler for zip-lining. Sound familiar? Yes. But this was a brand new tour, way more intense, with longer and steeper lines. Plus a really hot guide, though that wasn’t advertised.

The ziplining was hella fun, though my fear of heights really kicked up. I mean, yes, I kind of expected it, being a hundred feet up and all, but I’ve already been through this! Shouldn’t I have become desensitized to gliding through the air, just a little? Hmph. Well, the first line wasn’t bad. I went through it with nary a flutter in my stomach. The second and third, though? Flying over Fitzsimmons Creek? Not so easy.

The fourth was hardest, because I could see exactly how long it was, and how far down to the ground. Hell, the station was above the tops of some of the trees, and the next one was waay down in the valley (about 2000 feet away and 20 storeys down, so the guides said)! So, just like four years ago, I had to force myself forward until gravity took over.

The stations on this trek had four or five steps, down which you walked until your harness picked you up. On the fourth station I inched down those steps, taking advantage of every distraction, using my camera as a shield against the terrifying heights. Hey, that’s some lovely scenery! (it really was, too) *click* Oh, look, lichen! How interesting, I must take a picture this second!

I made it down—and across—eventually, but it was a hell of a chore. The last line wasn’t so hard, though I chickened out of trying to zip upside down.

Well, that’s okay. There’s always next time. I shouldn’t be too hard on myself, because after all it’s been four years since I did anything like this. And I wonder if maybe my fear of heights has gotten worse since my little ATV accident. I think I was a little twitchier than normal on my flight back East—not the parts where I took awesome pictures of the Prairies and lakes and whatnot, but the parts where we landed in Toronto and Ottawa amidst bad weather and a little turbulence. And I was very twitchy on the flight to Victoria a couple weeks ago, though that could have just been a healthy survival instinct. It’s hard to be objective about your own phobias, am I right?

But here’s the thing about fears: you have to face them. So what I’m doing now is studying for the NAGVA referee certification exam. Queen Vicki is coming up soon. Though I’m the most experienced ref on my team, I haven’t reffed in a major tournament in ages, and frankly I’m pretty intimidated. But hey, it’ll be an experience. As far as experiences go, maybe as much of a rush as zooming over the treetops above Whistler at a hundred kph.

The rest of the photos are right here!

Getting a little too close to nature

So this weekend some friends and I went up to Whistler for an ATV guided tour. I’d never gone ATVing before, but it sounded like fun, right? Broaden my horizons, that’s what I say. It worked pretty well with the zip-lining.

I didn’t mind that the weekend turned out cold and rainy. I had the right gear, and they provided extra stuff like waterproof pants and goggles (for the mud). Was a little shaky on the controls, but with help from the hot French-Canadian guide, I was getting the hang of it. Turns were still a bit tricky, but I enjoyed the feel of cold mud and rain on me, and the loud, throbbing engine between my legs. Heh.

Then, halfway up the mountain, I lost control of my ATV and drove off the road.

The next few seconds were kind of a blur, to be honest. There was tumbling… and noise… and then I was looking up at the sky, rain in my face, and people were calling my name, asking if I was okay. Was I okay? My right wrist hurt like a bitch, various other body parts were sending damage reports, but nothing critical. I answered (hey, my voice was okay) and the guide yelled at me not to move. Check, not moving.

Looking around, I was about ten feet below the road. Oh, and there was the ATV, upside down and facing backward. Huh. Good thing I’d bailed out like the guides said to do if we lost control, otherwise I’d probably be posting this through a Ouija board.

So the hot French-Canadian guide came down and checked me out. No, not that way, you pervs. Neck was fine, back was fine, yes I could move my toes. Nothing seemed broken except maybe my wrist. My vision was getting cloudy, which in a way was kind of cool: just that morning we’d watched “Enzo the Smart” (you know, the ReBoot episode where everything turns 8-bit?) And it was just like that, all in shades of blue and green. Mind you, in a way it wasn’t so cool, because I was afraid I’d pass out or my brain got bonked even through my helmet.

My left shoulder, side and leg, and lower back muscles were seriously sore, but with a bit of help I walked back up to the road. They say any accident you can walk away from is a good one, right? So we waited for the van to take me down to the health centre. Sandra offered to stay with me, but I told her she didn’t have to do that. I felt (mostly) fine, and also guilty of ruining my friends’ good time with my carelessness.

At one point my vision got seriously worse, and I had to sit down. Don’t know why I’d kept standing that whole time—maybe to prove I was really okay? But as soon as I sat, my head cleared and I could see again. I guess it was just shock, my brain was okay after all.

On the way back to town, we saw a black bear by the side of the road, so Todd the hunky guide (seriously, where do they find these guys?) stopped so I could take a picture.

It was a healthy specimen, said Todd, with a good thick coat. A bit later, we saw a cub by itself. No pictures, sorry.

At the health centre (warm at last!) my wrist hurt too much, so I had to have the nurse help me take my pants off. What a revoltin’ development this was!

Okay, so, final verdict: ribs, not broken. Wrist, either a sprain or a scaphoid fracture. Apparently they’re hard to diagnose even with X-rays, so I’m wearing a splint for now. Which… is taking a bit of adjusting, and that’s putting it mildly. Not to complain, lucky to be alive and all that, but going without my dominant hand is a huge pain in the ass. See, I typed that “in ht eass” at first. Even dressing myself one-and-a-half-handed is fucking hard, and I may have to keep doing it for 2 months or more. Bleah. Well, this too shall pass, and I’ve learned my lesson: no more Xtreme sportz for this little lame duck

Giving Thanks For Whistler

Boo on me. Working so hard on my blog & gallery redesign that I totally forgot to write about Thanksgiving. And it was pretty special, since I spent it in Whistler with a few close friends. Just one day (Sunday afternoon to Monday afternoon), but it was a hell of a day.

The good omens started on the drive up. It had been raining for a few days, but the weather was just then clearing up. Which meant dozens of gorgeous rainbows lining Highway 99. The first almost took my breath away, and it took all my concentration to keep my eyes on the road. Over the next couple of hours, I did get a little more used to them—and the gorgeous scenery I hadn’t seen in a while.

Then dinner, walking around a bit, and hanging out, then off to bed.

Monday promised to be clear, so I set my alarm for 6:00 to get some sunrise pics… forgetting the crucial detail that Whistler is surrounded by mountains. At 6AM it was still mostly dark, nowhere near actual sunrise. Oh well. So I wandered around, took some nice photos of Whistler in the early morning fog, went back to my room, tried to get back to sleep, couldn’t, went out again and finally saw a good sunrise over Blackcomb Mountain around 9AM. Then a few minutes later the fog came back in and hid it. Boo.

We had breakfast, walked around Whistler for a bit, then spontaneously decided to go up Whistler Mountain. What a difference 2 months makes! The last (and first) time I was there in 2003, it was August. Now snow covered the whole mountain (enough for at least one small avalanche), the hiking trails were closed, and I was kind of freezing. Sure, I was dressed warm, but obviously not enough for the mountain. Still: we kept moving, admired the scenery—and it was breathtakingly gorgeous with the fog-slash-clouds playing around the many mountains whose names I never bother to learn. Oh, and on the way down, we caught a glimpse of a mother bear out with two cubs.

We had an early turkey dinner, because most of us had to go back to Vancouver. That evening I went to see Between Heaven and Earth, part of the VIFF lineup. Excellent movie, much better than what I expected. I thought it would be about the trials and tribulations of two families of wandering circus folks in Uzbekistan. And it is about their trials, but so much more than that. The circus people are not passive recipients, they’re involved in their community, and even in national politics. There’s issues of tradition vs. modernity, faith and religion, and the greater social/economic picture of Uzbekistan. Great stuff, stark and troubling at times, but not sensationalistic.

Flying High

Last weekend some friends and I went up to Whistler for a bit of zip-lining. Being afraid of heights I was pretty nervous, but it turned out to be one of the most amazing thrills of my whole life. I got to soar high above Fitzsimmons Creek with the wind and fog in my face, surrounded by the beautiful mountain scenery of BC.

There are five stations built high in the treetops, connected by lines going back and forth across the creek. The first one was moderately scary: It wasn’t so high above the ground as the others, being further away from the water, and surrounded by trees. I started the first zip screaming (of course, because hello, height), but that turned into hysterical laughter when I left the trees and flew above the water. Yes, it was scary, but nothing like a rollercoaster. There are no sudden twists and turns, and though there’s a bit of a downward motion, it’s nowhere near free-fall. And the view was magnificent. Once I actually got moving, I found I could do this all day.

When I landed at the second station, I had adrenaline shooting through my body. My hands were shaking, my knees were wobbly, I was close to hyperventilating. But I’d done it, dammit! I could fly!

I hit a bit of a snag when it was time to cast off from that station. This one was right next to the water, much higher off the ground, and way more exposed. Even though my harness was securely fastened to the line and I couldn’t possibly fall, it took all my willpower to walk to the edge where I could just let gravity pull me forward. Because HOLY SHIT I WAS VERY VERY HIGH ABOVE THE RUSHING WATER AND THE NASTY HARD ROCKS OH MY SWEET JESUS CHRIST I’M GOING TO DIE

Interesting factoid: wind drag tended to turn me around so I spent about half of each zip facing backward. I wonder if it’d help to hold out just one arm (on the side that’s moving forward more than it should), to keep me facing the right direction? Now that I think about it, I remember the guides doing just that. I’ll have to try it next time. Because oh yes, I’m doing it again someday. Meantime, here are some more pictures.

Though I wonder how this patch of (relatively) untouched wilderness will be affected by the 2010 Olympics. Construction for the games was taking place practically right next door to the ziptrek. It’d be a shame if this area got polluted or damaged by idiot tourists.

That night we watched Team America: World Police. The censored version, which was all the video store had. Just as well: I’ve already been traumatised by the uncensored kinky puppet sex scene.