I Know What You Did(n’t Do) Last Summer
Oh, 2020... You’ve been a strange one.
We’ve witnessed the world writhe in a confused response to a global pandemic that has shaken our geopolitics and economies, and upended many aspects of societal life. We watched in horror as the global crisis of the modern era was tossed on the doormat of, without question, the worst politician one could ever imagine, leading the free world as the President of the United States.
It’s actually completely insane how much stuff happened this crazy year, with so much simply “lost in the noise” as our daily lives were inundated with the latest COVID case numbers and Trump’s fucking Twitter feed. For posterity, a few key crazy moments representative of this insane trip around the sun:
Pretty much all of Australia was on fire
Iran “accidentally” shoots down a full passenger flight, killing all 176 on board
Trump impeached in the Democratic controlled House. Acquited in the Republican senate
Kobe Bryant dies in a helicopter crash, along with his family
The UK officially withdrew from the EU
Whatever the hell Tiger King was (I never watched it)
The Tokyo Summer Olympics were cancelled
Pretty much everything else cool was cancelled (festivals, etc.)
Murder Hornets?
George Floyd killed by police, inciting mass protests and a major catalyst for the subsequent rising Black Lives Matter movement
Sports starts up without audiences. We watched playoff hockey in August
Massive warehouse explosion of ammonium nitrate in Beirut, killing 190+
Biden chosen as Democtratic nominee, Kamala Harris as VP
Wildfires in California, Oregon, and Washington, leading to extremely smokey skies in Vancouver.
Ruth-Bader Ginsberg dies, leaving a second Supreme Court vacancy to be filled by a conservative
Days after the first presidential debate, where Trump mocked Biden for “wearing a mask all the time”, contracts COVID-19 along with all his internal circle
Trump defeated after days of waiting for election to be called, but refuses to concede, claiming widespread voter fraud
Things remained pretty bleak, and with most of the usual outlets removed or restricted, like festivals, live music, arts and culture, social gatherings, and a constantly wavering definition of what activities were deemed “essential”, life sure was confusing and stressful.
I believe there was also a lot of positive growth this year. A global crisis and lockdown forced many to rethink the way they live their lives, diving inward, and better appreciating many of the aspects of life that are commonly taken for granted. Businesses were forced to look at how they employ people, and a dramatic shift to “work-from-home” took place. It expedited many technologies that have been slow to adopt, like widespread use (for better or worse) of videoconferencing, digital performances, online workshops and workouts, and a more nimble and progressive medical system, including the incredibly fast movement of R+D that has supposedly brought us a variety of COVID-19 vaccines distributed for global use as I write this. Small businesses have been tested and strained, but many have pushed hard to adapt to the current landscape with better online presence, mobile restaurant orders, and new forms of arts and culture.
It will be interesting to see how many of these trends remain once things move back to normal. Generally speaking, it is mostly just a drag, and a social extrovert’s hellscape, and so personally I absolutely cannot wait for this all to be over.
March 23rd, 2020
Living full time in Squamish since I returned from Ecuador, I settled into a routine of home life, walks, and biking, and following my initial 14-day full quarantine on my return, the occasional “social” weekend adhering to the rules and acceptable practices of the day, dictated by our endearing health minister, Dr. Bonnie Henry.
I honestly don’t have much “insight” into the world fumbling through a global pandemic. To me, it is a part of living in an extremely fragile ecosystem that truly is a miracle to exist in the first place. Much more could have been done to prepare, and I really hope this is a strong warning shot for the world, and its divided political landscape. My favourite political cartoon (I can’t find the original author…) on the topic came early in the Spring.
Even now, as the US reports this week that COVID-19 surpassed heart disease as its leading cause of death, it is likely that the global impact of COVID-19 may be relatively minor compared to some of the great problems we as a species will face over the coming century. I’m generally an optimist, especially when it comes to technology and our ability to solve difficult problems. But the process towards progress is a painfully slow one, obstructed by pointless hurdles of useless bureaucracy, political misguidance through powerful lobbying, and an incredible amount of misinformation provided to, and digested by, the often extremely gullible public.
The stock market has powered up and onwards through this latest pandemic-caused recession, but that does not come close to telling the whole tale, and is completely dominated by the new world order of the large tech companies. Small businesses have been devastated. All levels of government have dove deep into their pockets in a flood of bailouts and social assistance. The ramifications of such a spend will likely be felt for many years. Currently (October) the Liberals have just announced an additional $100billion spend in business and social assistance, on top of the already record high $381 billion for this years debt. The debt-to-GDP ratios has jumped from around 30% to over 50% this year.
This is the cost of letting preventable, or at the very least, reducible, crises run unanticipated in a reactive manner. Proactive steps need to be taken to reduce the impact of these catastrophes, and climate change looms above all else as our greatest challenge.
I only hope that science starts to take the front stage in our nation’s policy decision making. Without this, we’re destined to repeat the major global shutdowns and financial burdens that such events incur repeatedly over the coming decades.
A Good Place to Call Home
I had only this past year made the long term decision to make Squamish my home base, and the Spring and Summer of 2020 was a perfect time to explore new reaches of this incredible town and get comfortable. Fortune would have it that, due to a shifting work landscape, a number of old friends would make the move to Squamish over the summer, and things have really shaped up for an incredible community of great people here.
All in all, I managed to have a pretty terrific summer. Besides a week kayaking in Desolation Sound, and a few trips to Mayne and Tofino, local Squamish life kept me well entertained. I even tried a bit of pandemic dating, to mixed success, with a couple of amazing women (at separate times), but for reasons that are sometimes difficult to understand, the connection just wasn’t enough for me to feel enough of a spark to continue. It’s frustrating, and comes with a ton of guilt, but the only thing I can do is keep trusting myself and learn from my experiences. I’m not sure I’ve really been ready to find someone, as I continue to grow and develop. Making the decision to call Squamish my long term home, re-building the house, and settling down into more of a grounded state will be a major step forward, as for the last decade since my relationship with Kailey ended, around when I purchased the Squamish house with Ryan, my life has been a chaotic flux of nomad-ish lifestyles, coupled with a heavy dose of uncertainty about my long term plan.
Important Pandemic Supplies. - April 3rd, 2020
April 4th - Pandemic buddies don’t get much better than this guy
One of many pandemic solo date nights
After collecting Winston from his winter home at a storage facility in Pemberton, I snuck in a camping trip at the Squamish Valley Campground with Jessica, who I met pre-Ecuador on a fun date in the city. At the time, there was a very strong “just stay home” sentiment, but felt justified being a Squamish local, and it was “just camping”. A chat with the proprietor on the way in confirmed that he was just very keen to keep business going, but passing a row of aggressive “GO HOME” and “VISITORS NOT WELCOME” signs through the Squamish Nation Territory en route was rather unsettling.
April 12th - Squamish Valley Campground
“Zoom” had become the new world’s social everything, and a previously unheard of “digital meeting place” company became the centre for all family and friend interactions. With the level of isolation in place at the time, it did serve a purpose, and initially felt good to “scratch that itch”, but it quickly became tedious and fizzled out as a regular social occurrence.
April 18th - The Derper Crew attempts to party digitally
My parents had made the move to hole up on Mayne Island for the pandemic, with my Dad making an escape from the US in late March to meet my Mum who had come out earlier to help support Leslie. We chatted about visitations, and it seemed like both sides were confident in me coming over to stay with them for an extended visit in late April.
There is truly something in the air in BC’s Gulf Islands, and it’s not just the clouds of dope smoke billowing off Salt Spring, though they do have a similar effect. Time slows as soon as you step off the ferry, and a calm state takes hold. It’s a very easy place to forget about the outside world. I had a lovely week there before coming back to the mainland to plan a surprise 4th birthday for Eliot, including Mum and Dad organizing a “fishing adventure” out of the back of my truck in their driveway that the recipient seemed to enjoy the least out of everyone involved.
Nootka-Nephew relationship building took place throughout the summer, with a few successes and many more failures.
While never outright banned, ski touring, rock climbing, and other high risk activities were generally frowned upon, though mountain biking generally got a pass with a slight scaling back of the typical gnar level to reduce the chance of a trip to the hospital. The anticipated strain on the hospital systems from COVID, and the risk to SAR during incident response, promoted a reduction in these higher risk activities. I never took the splitboard back out after I returned from Ecuador, as it seemed like the right thing to do was just call the season and not stress about decision making.
As the nature of transmission of the virus was better understood, rock climbing started to open up again, as evidence showed that surface transmission was difficult with proper sanitization precautions. Rufio and I got out to an obscure crag, the Longhouse, in early May, which was a humbling experience in burly crack climbing, in a beautiful isolated setting.
Much of the rest of the summer was filled up with local biking with my trusty trail companion, who was also benefiting from the pandemic in a wave of pet adoptions sweeping the transitioning work-from-home masses. Joe and Beth adopted Louis, who has some trouble meeting other dogs, but Nootka and him managed to patch things up fairly quickly and created a fairly equal force of relentless energy for playtime.
Another couple to eventually join the pandemic pet adoption wave, Ryan and Blaze, remained my core “bubble” throughout these strange socially restricted times, and came up to Squamish for a weekend visit to SUP, rent mountain bikes, and party to the digital Lightning in a Bottle festival event taking place that weekend. These visits were critical in keeping my extroverted hyper-social ass sane and distracted.
A lot of new route development has been taking place on the Apron on the Chief, and Rufio and I got on the shiny new white streak “Born Again" 10b, which included a tricky 5.9 corner I lead that I found to have tricky gear placement, and a delicate 10b friction slab traverse to intersect with the adjacent uber-classic, “Diedre”.
Oh the Sea to Sky Gondola… Every time I go up, I have a blast and think to myself that I should head up more often. And it seems like shortly after each time some bastard disgruntled local cuts the cable and brings it all crashing down.
Will be very curious to see if they take it out a third time….
I first tried mountain biking with Kailey on the North Shore’s Mt. Fromme area circa 2009-2010. I was on a hardtail with V-Brakes attempting to get down arguably the most difficult trail system in the world. Needless to say, I got my ass kicked…
Fortunately I have an unhealthy addiction to trying new things, even if I completely suck at them initially. When we bought the Squamish house in 2011, I picked up my first full suspension bike, a very much cross country early-2000s Rocky Mountaineer ETSX, with 130mm travel front and back, and a 70 degree head tube angle. For those unfamiliar with mountain bikes and their relevant geometry specs, this was a bike better suited for long days on gradual climbs and descents in the Rockies, and not the ultra-technical steeps of Southwest BC.
Mountain biking was, and still is, absolutely terrifying! But, like many adrenaline soaked pursuits, also incredibly addicting, with a slow but constant progression where riding the same trails repeatedly only gets more fun and playful as you progress. It provides an incredible cardio workout of whatever length of time you and your legs have available, mixed in with wild heart pumping moments on the descents. The incredible network of trails from North Vancouver to Pemberton, and beyond, provide a lifetime’s worth of local entertainment, and there are also tons of opportunities for further travel as biking explodes in popularity around the world.
This summer, I was finally starting to feel my skills and confidence getting to the level where I felt reasonably solid on all but the gnarliest gnar of the corridor, helped along by my new trusty steed: A suitably aggressive 160/150cm 64 degree HT angle 2020 Norco Sight, my third Sight in the last 5 years.
I checked out some classics on Cypress in West Vancouver, including the wild and massive “Sagar”, descending all the way from the ski hill, down to the Upper Levels highway.
I returned to Mayne for some more downtime with the ‘rents, enjoyed some stiff disc golf competition, and had some great paddling weather.
I had started my relationship with Caroline at this point, who was in Tofino for a spearfishing/freediving course where I joined her, and enjoyed some quality beach time at Mackenzie’s, surfing and chilling with a freshly groomed Nootka. When she returned to the mainland I drove to Sombrio Beach to meet up with the Lyster bros for an extremely wet Canada Day campout. We managed to have a grand time despite the rain, and enjoyed a trippy Sombrio exploration when the weather broke on the final day.
Nootka was an absolute legend in Tofino, befriending everyone on the beach, and then was an absolute nightmare at Sombrio, where a constant stream of Juan de Fuca trail hikers passed by, keeping him on edge. And for whatever reason, he absolutely hated “Night Dave”… (That’s Dave, at night)
When the conditions are right, Pemberton is hard to beat when it comes to mountain biking. The views from the Mackenzie area across to Mt. Currie are just incredible, and the trails are long and incredibly fun. We braved a mid-July mission in peak bug season and stinking heat, but managed to have a great time ripping quality dirt with a stoked crew.
Probably my favourite climbing achievement of the summer was getting on “The Reacharound 5.9”, which is an incredible corner climb I had been really wanting to lead for some time. It’s a fantastic route, looking hard and steep, but having the right holds in all the right places, and the 5.9 range of “traditional” lead free climbing (placing your own gear in cracks as protection as you climb) is more than challenging enough for me to feel at my limit, and, as the cool kids say, “get gripped”. I’m really hoping that next summer I’m able to focus on finding more. climbing partners and work up my trad skills and confidence, which has been a long, slow, and at times, terrifying progression.
Our big planned adventure for the summer was a week of kayaking in Desolation Sound. This is one of the very popular classics of the West Coast, and deservedly so. The protected waters of the Sound provide pleasantly warm conditions for swimming, and rocky headlands and islets, along with towering snowcapped mountains of the Coast Range, provide a beautiful backdrop for paddling and relaxing. It is busy, it is a bit crowded with sail and motorboats, and I would say I prefer the rugged and wild west coast of Vancouver Island, but it was an awesome trip with a few of my favourite humans: The Lyster bros. and their partner’s, Blaze and Maria.
After a days journey on two ferries up to Powell River, Dave, Maria, and I squeezed into a small motel room, and took care of our final packing. Ryan and Blaze were in Qualicum at their folk’s place, and taking the Comox-Powell River ferry in the morning to meet us early the following day. Loaded up on coffee and baked goods at Base Camp Coffee, we headed up to Okeover Arm to collect our boats and stage for the trip.
After looking at a variety of possible itineraries, based on the popularity of the area and one specific camp standing out as the jewel of the Sound, the Curme Islands, we made the call to prioritize setting up basecamp on Curme and day tripping from there. We set out late, as one usually does when trying to fit x a large amount of food, camping gear, and beer into the awkward sized hatches of the boat, leaving Okeover Inlet around 11:30. We were racing to beat the strong tides that were turning only an hour later, which when rising would send a torrent of water rushing back up the inlet, driving us back to our starting point.
Despite trying to move quick, we ended up on the wrong side of slack tide well within the inlet, and had to fight some serious currents to break out of Okeover and out into Desolation Sound. This made for some exciting paddling, whipping in and out of the wild and churning waters, flying along with the tide in some spots, and other moments of paddling at full tilt just to make progress at a crawling pace through the narrows. After reaching the Sound, we now had a long crossing to Mink Island, which we would skirt around to reach the Curme Islands on the opposite side. Consisting on not much more than that mornings breakfast, beer, and bagged Rose that Blaze had decided was a suitable kayaking beverage, we probably could have used a proper stop for lunch, but we were concerned about the finite number of campsites at Curme, and decided to push on.
Always helpful, Dave-O offers Maria an asset for the crossing to Mink
Mink Island
We arrived at the Curme Islands late in the day, and things were looking bleak for available sites, which are restricted to a set number of wooden pads scattered around the rocky islets. We split up and I wandered around South Curme to find all spots taken, and I was beginning to get concerned that we were going to have to add another 3kms and another open crossing to our day to get to the less aesthetic overflow sites across on the mainland…
Fortunately, luck was on our side, and we managed to secure three of the last remaining pads on the main central island all together, which provided a beautiful setting for base camp, easy access to our boats, and directly above the central protected channel that made for the most idyllic swimming spot I’ve ever seen in the Pacific Ocean’s Northwest coast.
Now, I’m not one to shy away from a punishing adventure filled with a barrage of “Type 2” or even “Type 3” moments. I enjoy pushing myself, moving far and fast in an effort to get off the beaten path and explore the unknown. But I will say, I absolutely love a good chill. Maxing and relaxing with a tasty beverage in hand, a gorgeous mountain backdrop, and very little in the realm of schedules, objectives, or stress? Sign me the fuck up! That falls in line with what I consider to be a great time, and in 2020, the year of a global pandemic and associated lockdown, and Donald Trump’s final year of presidency, I was very much into making this trip a time for prioritizing keeping things nice and slow. I managed to get through the entire 2nd book of Liu Cixin’s Three Body Problem SciFi series in the six days of this trip, and if that doesn’t constitute a major objective, I don’t know what does!
After talking to the rangers who came through our camp, and getting the local beta on the area, it really seemed like just parking at Curme for the week and day tripping was the way to go, and that is precisely what we did for the next 5 nights, planning a final night at the mouth of Okeover Inlet for the final night.
So break out the Rose again and let’s celebrate, as we had found our home, and it was paradise!
The problem with this approach is that it does not lend itself well to storytelling, as it’s difficult to turn a lazy existence of reading and day drinking on a beautiful island into too grand of a tale. But usually the great stories in outdoor adventure are always when things go horrifically wrong, which does provide a tale to be told, but are typically pretty miserable to experience at the time.
So I was quite happy to avoid misadventure and focus on relaxation, along with some awesome day trips and activities exploring the Curme Islands and the Sound.
Unwin Lake took the prize for the most misguidedly named geographic feature of the trip. It was great, and provided a perfect opportunity to wash off the salt water that had accumulated into a layer on our skin.
Unwin Lake
I even spent the better part of a whole day watching this idiot try to take down (unsuccessfully) an entire starfish. I bet he’s still there right now trying to choke one of these things down…
In the dark and isolated year of 2020, where personal connections were very much a rarity, this trip was exactly what the doctor ordered. I thrive on these types of deep experiences with terrific humans, from outdoor adventures to festivals, and to have much of that put on hold was extremely difficult. Experiencing soaring high peaks and crushing deep valleys when it comes to mental health, this year those swings were significantly amplified, with a lack of experiential medicine to pull out of a rut. Relationship stress, loneliness, existential questions, and the general unknown of the future really weighed down hard on me this summer.
One amazing thing about a trip like this is when you’re with a group that is so cohesive and solid, it is a wonderful experience to simply be together in an outstanding location. Focus is shifted entirely on the beauty that exists in the world, and not darkened by a barrage of news headlines, mask requirements, or economic shutdowns. When good spirits are lifted high, this makes for great company, and great company we had on this trip. We ate like kings, laughed over old stories through the 18 years I’ve known the Lyster brothers, played games, got silly, and just generally had a solid time with precisely zero conflict.
Paddling doesn’t get much better than this, saving the best for last on our final easy day back to the trucks
Sea worn travellers at a much needed pub lunch in Powell River
August in Squamish is a pretty fantastic time and place. Even in the peak of summer, the temps are usually reasonable, recreation abounds, and the alpine is clear for some dry ground higher elevation activities. Caroline and I took Nootka up to Brandywine Meadows, which was my first time up there in the summer, after spending many days up there in the midst of the gong show that is the epicentre of Sea to Sky snowmobile culture in the winter months.
Throughout the pandemic it was really nice to regularly connect with Meta, who had to experience the fast deterioration of her mother Helen’s health following a diagnosis of ALS. Just months after diagnosis, she was unable to function in a way that felt like “living”, and eventually chose the path of euthanasia, passing in the summer. With the travel restrictions from the pandemic, this represented an unbelievably hard time, as family could not easily visit and share experiences as you would hope take place. I love Meta dearly, as well as her incredible father, Rodney, and her brothers, and so it meant so much to be able to meet up for dog walks and dive into a bit of silliness together, and stay connected through this extremely difficult time.
As mentioned, the pandemic new world order allowed for a migration of workers out of the city as work transitioned more to remote based. Sterling and Caroline made the move to Squamish, along with their beautiful girl, Wynn. We connected briefly when I was over in Uke for some surfing, and had an awesome beach day at Flo.
Late September biking outside Penticton
Dog-Child relationship counselling session
The first act of the 2020/21 reno: taking out the rhodo where the new front entrance is to reside
Thanksgiving was spent back at Mayne Island with the fam jam
I should probably dedicate an entire post to music creation, and my love for the process. It’s incredible how healing of an experience it can be, pouring out emotion into making music that resonates with life at that moment in time. I had ended my relationship with Caroline at this point, and the blues were coursing through my veins. I was really struggling to understand myself and my thought patterns, and what I looking for in a relationship at the time. So I was playing with blues riffs and feeling the moody words from Kerouac’s Dharma Bums that I had jotted down years ago as lyric inspiration:
“Mind is the Maker, for no reason at all. For all this creation, created to fall”
Mike White’s 40th birthday was coming up, and it was time for him to live out what was apparently a long standing dream of his: to make a giant “fuck” sign out of fireworks and light it on fire. Go figure, but if you know Whitey, it actually makes a ton of sense. I dragged the backcountry hot tub out for this one as it was forecasted to be pretty cold, and we had a great Elaho valley shindig with great friends in a pandemic-safe fashion.
As mentioned earlier, Ryan and Blaze took their Mexican el doge, Dobby, home in the Fall, and Nootka instantly had a new friend to engage in epic sessions of “bite face”.
October 2021: Classic Meta 😂 ❤️
The renegade from Rossland himself, the fabulous Giles, had decided to move back to Squamish, which was another terrific addition to the local roster. Lots of good times to be had blending the highest of rhythm and culture with good old fashioned Kootenay-branded red neckery.
Clear signs of the approach of winter
Moody autumn Squamish days
It’s getting close to winter, so time to start hemorrhaging time and money into the snow ponys!
With the big house reno underway, it was time to move Winston up to the Whistler RV park for the winter, which I planned to make my main basecamp for the season. It’s definitely a gamble this year with the pandemic complicating social interactions… Through the Fall, the case numbers increased significantly and the restrictions were raised to restrict social interactions with only your direct household.
As a household-less person, this was going to prove difficult, though strict allowances were made for solo living people.
I’m always craving an adventure, and a separation from the ordinary, and living in a snowmobile in/out RV park in the middle of winter with my dog seemed like it would be a memorable experience to break up the chaos of watching my house get rebuilt, and the world shift and spin through the churning tides. And the powder addict in me was getting pretty stoked on a winter season closer to the goods.
With Biden/Harris moving into the White House in January, alongside the incredible development and manufacturing of a varied of COVID-19 vaccines, things were looking up heading into 2021. Who knows what the future brings, but for now I’m just thankful that a certain tiny hand orange-faced douchebag will soon drift into insignificance in the world. I’m hopefully that the many promising trends in science and technology will drive forward our species and planet into a sustainable existence.
Thinking forward to next summer, with widespread vaccination rollouts and a return to normalcy, along with moving back into a fresh new home in Squamish with an incredible local community, things feel very optimistic currently. This winter will be a lonely, cold, and difficult one, but as long as I get enough pow shots to the face, I think I’ll manage to get through it just fine.
Splitboarding is the answer, after all.
Bye-bye 2020, you were one fucked up wild ride! You got this 2021, the bar is set pretty damn low!