Lifestyle : “Believe that it is yours now in spirit”

Missing Canada …? I realized, and realize, that there is a different sense of community there. At the time, the people and the mentality of the town make it what it is. So many people seem to be implants and have satiated that spot in their souls with Squamish. The rest continue their quest to quench that wanderlust. To find it is middle ground. Not Whistler, nor Vancouver. Community is part of a cultivated lifestyle – establish your morning routine amongst the presence of greatness in the Zephyr café.

Sunny days, rainy days; in balance so it seems. The Chief tends to safekeeping, drinking the cleansing rain and I spot him out my window in meditation, alone now. And I realized, my last night there, his presence. Alive. The rock is special and there is an enchanted forest below him? Beyond, Skypilot out my window. Across the Howe Sound and snow on the tops and so much snow on Brohm Ridge and then there was the Black Tusk.

Different frequency of positive vibrations one must listen to hear. Being pretty much happy all the time. A man on my own – almost.

Travel (Almost) :: Last Day in Squish

Goodbye, Erin in the Smartcar.
Amtrak Reservation #015414.

Postcard from Annie reminding me of home, arrives at the perfect time.
It's the last day in Olympic Squamish.
Laundry, breakfast, mental preparation, purchase of train ticket.
Mail, Ledgerwood lunch.
"File deletion."
The Zephyr Café. N for Naomi chocolate swirl or Z for Zephyr?

Pen Poetry

Written 3/18/2010

#10 – No time for poetry but exactly what is

“If America is the car, Canada has been busses to me. Busses to catch busses that may not even be there. Busses of the same bus I’ve already been on once today already. This bus has less than five people on it and fine leather seats. Plenty of selection so I’m propped up against the window and sitting out in two seats to write properly.

Dylan has procrastinated on me: Tuesday or Monday we had spoken about transportation for getting down to Vancouver as he was trying to see his sister before she leaves for Australia. He has an environmental stewardship paper due tomorrow that he has been procrastinating on for some time. Perhaps he is unsure of the collegiate paper format but good luck to him on getting that done.

And since he was out climbing (in shorts) at the crag instead of writing he declined to give me a ride and didn’t notify me of whether or not he was able to provide transport. (Included in the narration of something pulled from a journal because of its dualistic, both-minor-and-major implications at the time of writing but since this is in parenthesis things obviously worked themselves out).

I gave up on him at 7, it’s now 8:33 pm.

No cash remaining for the Greyhound – a plan has been enacted, hastily, in place of the $20: I am thus taking (and writing from) the VANOC bus to Whistler, en route from Squamish, and hoping to catch one of the departures to Vancouver, though completely uncertain of the time it leaves. (Note for those unfamiliar with Highway 99 or haven’t figured this out yet: Squamish is in the very middle of both of them – so essentially I was going north to come south to go further south, all in the same trip).

The person I am going to see replies by text to a 160 character version of what I have just described and applauds it, wishes me luck, and my pen and writing begins to die.

“Helped me do a lot of things.
Write some good stuff.
An ode to a dying pen.
VBall Grip, Fine and thank you for
piloting the ink from the tip to my
paper and flowing wrist
across the page and
maybe black death is not
so imminent so do I
waste it upon a poem?”

The pen now sits at 5% ink remaining, I haven’t given it a death-write yet … perhaps a small essay can be derived from that or some haikus but the ink becomes so thin and transparent and slow to write that I enjoy keeping my pen in that purgatory stage where if I forget that if it was dying and pick it up again, I’ll curse myself for forgetting and be forced to run across the street to the drugstore to buy two new ones though a smart writer once told me to keep at least three operational utensils upon my person at all times.

Paralympic Torch Relay in Squamish

Standing in Mountain Pose (tadasana) Zephyr Café, Squamish. The Paralympic Torch is set to arrive soon down Cleveland Street outside. The shop is full, a queue to get to the cashier, and it’s busy business again – about time for the middle child to get some attention again. Squamish, quiet during the Olympics, is catching a rejuvenating breath of attention heading back into competition.

The routine is standard with the $2.26 handed over for the Americano; tall and dark, the drink is embodied by the appearance of the hat-clad baristas and cooks who run drink orders and food out to patrons – but that is the extent of Squamish’s Sunday normalcy. When the music outside began blaring and the Torch relay crews poured inside, mingling with the locals, Canada’s red mitts hop back en vogue and no thank you, no need for a receipt.

The festivities and bumping music come from across the street in the RBC Plaza – one of the relay’s foremost sponsors. A procession of the youth of the Squamish First Nation walk north down Cleveland Avenue, slowly making their way to the stage, joining John Weston, Gibby Jacob, and Squamish Mayor Greg Gardner. It’s reminiscent of the much larger party of the Olympic Torch Relay in Brennan Park – but here in the rain, the cleansing, the opportunity for interaction with torch bearers is at every turn.

“Dude, this is radical,” Dylan Adams, my flatmate, begins.

Indeed.

Brad Zdanivsky was one person I indirectly caught a glimpse of inspiration from after wheeling the flame around a portion of downtown Squamish.

The quad who climbed the Chief in 2005? In fourteen hours? Yes – that Brad Zdanivsky. “It was an exhilarating feeling [carrying the torch] … It was pretty remarkable – feel the heat on your face and see the huge crowd.” Following the hype of the Olympics, the torch relay’s energy and attendance drew off the Olympics’ presence in the valley. “Everyone was so pumped,” Zdanivsky said, and I agree – the boost of energy feels great.

He hopes everyone who sees the remarkable feats come away a little inspired by it – and to “see the sledge hockey team kick some ass” against the competition. A true Canadian.

More stories from the Paralympics and torchbearers, who say in passing to one another when asked “How was it?”

“There are no words to describe it!”

The rain comes down on the streets and there are those who run along excitedly as the torch gets looped around for an hour. The grey torches and suits may match the physical appearance of the rainy day – but not the energy.

Margo Dent, of the Squamish Chamber of Commerce, has a vision after seeing how close the Paralympics are going towards being “in” with the Olympics.

“The way the Winter Olympics were advertised this time – as the Vancouver 2010 Winter Olympic and Paralympic Games – that’s a milestone that we are celebrating. My hope is that eventually they will be one Games running at the same time … athletes competing against athletes.”

And if Bruce Gilmour, the visually-impaired and final torchbearer before the lighting of the cauldron, can make the crowd glow, guide-dog golden retriever on point, surely the athletes will too. The flame of the athletes – the glow of focus during competition – means I’m in for another great seven days as a volunteer.

Canada 2010: Torch Relay (2)

The Canadian National Anthem is sung by local students, grades four through twelve, a multi-school choir. “Future leaders of Canada! Strive to be your best!” the announcer says after Kristin McBride has transferred the torch on stage; the announcer is referencing McBride’s involvement with the pre-schoolers, encouraging the youth of Canada.

“The flame is the symbol for igniting the passion, connecting you with your passion,” the Squamish mayor says, adding, “This moment feels real! The heart of 2010 is right here in Squamish!”

It is a pivotal point; for everyone. The Games are finally here – almost. Certain hiccups have popped up – transportation, some logistics, but, for those in attendance, tonight is time to laud those who have supported the Games with Vanoc through the homestay programs, the set up crew for the Torch Ceremonies (acknowledging most of the work has been done by locals), but also a political moment for the MPLA and local politicians. “Go Canada Go!” the politicians make sure to say as they conclude their speeches.

Enter Chief Gibby Jacob, a Board Member of Vanoc and member of the Squamish First Nation. He’s asked about what the atmosphere of the crowd is like tonight.

“[It’s]Taking our breath away! This is the homecoming! We are so humbled to be here!”

The torch will live on in Squamish with a torch like those the relay team used donated to the city.The atmosphere is “all positive, all celebrative” of the 106 consecutive day, 1035-Canadian strong Torch Relay.

“How are people feeling in Vanoc?” he’s asked by the announcer.

“Two thumbs up – we’re ready to rock and roll in Vancouver!”

A day later in Whistler, the Village is electrified by its presence, I watch during dinner, ten minutes on foot away as CTV covers the event from their plaza, recently erected to conduct nightly broadcasts.

People cannot help but be excited. The Games are four days away. It is their twelve-day Superbowl, the people in the Sea-to-Sky have been waiting for this week since 2003, pro and anti-Games alike.

Canada 2010: Torch Relay

Music blares and drums can be heard as the procession slowly makes its way down Guildford. With a police escort, the Coca-Cola, RBC, and Official Vehicle make up the convoy.

Cars stream by, some with streamers or Canadian flags flowing past them.

Squamish, it seems, is on lock down. Cars line Guildford from the stop sign all the way to Highway 99. It reminds me of the Fourth of July – a flash of traffic and then it all moves forward; some anxiety among the drivers who are forced to wait for five minutes in their cars as the procession does the loop around my new neighborhood.

Jason Mraz, "I'm Your's," perhaps ironically, plays out of the vehicles; I keep walking down to the bridge. A brief conversation with Windels back in Minnesota, informing someone of this madness sweeping northbound on Highway 99.

Mark is torch bearer 129, Laura; 130. Mark is from Victoria and has done multiple legs of this journey – Laura thanks Panasonic profusely, telling me she entered a contest by writing an essay on the Environment/Culture and Sport of the Games.

“I cried when I heard,” she says, claiming that she will likely cry again as she passes off the torch to its final bearer for the night, Squamish local Kristen McBride. She passes the torch off to a few of us behind the barricade on the streets – it felt like about five pounds in my hand.

“Oh my God!” she exclaims; she’s very excited for this moment. We can see the procession getting closer now – Mark is preceeded by a man on a bike, telling Laura the final instructions.

“Turn this way and hold it high!” he says.

Mark follows shortly with the burning flame – cars are lined up behind him all the way from Cleveland Avenue to Valleycliffe. Laura takes off.

Security is crazy – but I’m thrown a bottle of Coke Zero, given one that is glows, and I’m quite pleased at my position for capturing all of this. Mark (129) takes a quick break -- he's breathing hard, so he waits a bit and hops on the bus of Torch Bearers (the white bus behind him, where Laura hopped off of).

More on the Canadian National Anthem and “pep fest” held at the Brennan Park area later – where an estimated eight to ten thousand Squamish residents make an appearance.

Re: Pedal to the Floor

..."BC" was no longer a figment on a map for us but a reality of place. British Columbia, for those of you who haven't been, has a different Canadian vibe than that of Ontario -- the Canadian essence, if you will, is still captured but you can sense that the BC folk are clearly a northerly extension of West Coast Thought.

Then, recollections from journals, "we are trying to do it a cheaply as possible - the "dirtbag" approach as Fischer has called it. The drive up Highway 99 from Vancouver to Squamish was unlike anything I've ever seen before. It is literally one of the more spectacular drives as a driver that I have ever seen -- towering mountains across Howe Sound and right along the road, and then water which stretches the 60 or so kilometers from Vancouver. The afternoon light was just perfect."

So much, so quickly to capture for our four-day bouldering trip. On our "rest day," I spent most of the time recording most of this into a journal near the RBC overlooking Cleveland Ave, the main drag of downtown Squamish.

July 5- Sitting at the corner of Cleveland Ave/Winnipeg St, at the Squamish City Center during some fingertip regeneration time. The insurance building is to my left, blocking the view to anything further north. Look east are mountains (straight ahead) as I sit on a little bench with the Grand Wall further to my right. A precipitious mountain is to my right with snow still on the peak. Cam is in the Vanagon in the parking lot ahead of me and my coffee is nearly gone. Time do be done for now."

There is much to tell about, link to you, and think about in this second trip to this amazing town.

I hope my journalism/blogging will keep you interested and informed during the Vancouver 2010 Winter Games come and go, quickly, there is a lot to talk about; I'm steering as far away from an "I/we" -- based experience as possible for everyone -- let me know if I'm failing.

Pondering even the method of travel to Canada: A two-and-a-half day trainride though Canada versus a three hour flight from Minneapolis to Seattle ... followed days later by a three and a half hour drive north -- brings perspective new and definitely refreshing... that's maybe one point of "departure" to narrate this experience.