All posts by Beth

Tobogganing in the Back Country

February 24, 2017 Beth Leave a comment

January, 2017

This morning, I woke up when the sun shone in through the windows of our tiny little cabin. Waking up to the sun over the mountains? Life is good if you’re me. Last night we used a lot of wood while trying to not freeze to death, and we needed to replenish the stockpile. We stepped out into the day; “Hello world!” I sang. The sky was so bright, so blue, and so clear, yet somehow it was snowing. I scoured the sky, but could not find a cloud responsible for the magical flakes. The way the snow was falling made it look like it was dancing. It barely even looked like snow at all! The way the sun reflected off each flake made them look like pieces of glitter. What I’m trying to say is, it looked like magical glitter was dancing around me.

Michael went round back to the woodshed and chose the best pieces of wood to chop, then he brought out the axe and handed it to me. I was to chop wood while he fetched more water from the creek nearby. There I was, axe in hand, wood by feet, surrounded by magical glitter snow. I chopped! And I chopped! I chopped stumps into logs, and logs into kindling. I felt pretty damn good about myself.

Over the sound of my epic outdoorsiness, I heard Michael return with the water. He went back into the woodshed to get a few more logs and I heard him yell. I thought he must have found a dead animal or something, but he came around the corner holding a Krazy Karpet! That’s right, one of those thick sheets of plastic we would sit on as kids, and rip down snowy neighbourhood hills with nicknames like ‘Suicide Hill.’ I squealed with delight.

As it turns out, when I am indoors, I am your average, albeit overly-enthusiastic, 27 year old woman. When I am outside in snow, I become 8 – an 8 year old child. My voice goes up a few octaves, I squeal, and – I don’t laugh – I giggle. I hopped on the toboggan and slowly built a path down the hill in front of the cabin, squealing and giggling, the whole time. I climbed back up the hill, and went down again, this time a bit faster as my path that was forming nicely. The next time I went down, I flew! Michael took a turn on the Krazy Karpet too. He didn’t squeal nearly as much, but I could tell he was having fun. It was the most beautiful, perfect afternoon. Tobogganing in the back country with Michael? My day couldn’t have been better.

North America, Travel Stories

Snowboarding at Canada Olympic Park!

February 21, 2017 Beth Leave a comment

I have traveled around the world, and when people find out I am from Calgary, Canada they ask me two things: Where the F is that? and Do you ski or snowboard? In fact, dear reader, I do not ski or snowboard, but not for a lack of trying on my parents’ part. When I was a kid, they really encouraged me to love skiing, taking my sister and I out to the mountains on weekends. Then, when I realized I may look cooler on a snowboard, they enrolled me in lessons. My sister remembers those lessons ending with a quick trip down the hill on the medic’s snowmobile for me. Needless to say, this was one horse I was not tempted to get back on. I would live my entire teenage life feeling a bit left out when my friends went out to the mountains on ski trips, but I came up with all sorts of excuses— too expensive, I don’t want to slow my friends down, I have no gear, etc.

I was recently inspired to try snowboarding again. I was inspired to challenge myself to try something (somewhat) new, and something I thought I would be bad at. I signed up for the three evening beginner’s snowboard lessons at Canada Olympic Park.

On day one, I was full of the craziest concoction of fear and excitement! Fear that I would be the only adult in a beginner’s class, fear that I would fall and break my neck, fear that I would look uncool. Excited that I may actually like it, excited that I may be kind of good at it! I picked up my board and boots from the rental shop, and headed out to the hill. As I walked by the chairlift, I shuddered. Flashbacks of the panic I once felt loading and unloading from the chair haunted me. I found my way to the meeting point and found my instructor, Alexander. He introduced himself and the 14 year old girl sitting next to him. The others joined us, and I was pleased to find out I was not the oldest person in my group. We began the lessons with basics— how to hold the board, how to tighten the bindings, how to put the snowboard on the snow so it doesn’t slide down the hill. We hopped on the magic carpet (the more fun way to say ‘conveyor belt’), and head up the bunny hill. The first few runs were a success! I felt stable and confident. I didn’t fall once! And of course, as soon as I said that aloud to Gavin, one of the other beginners, I lost balance and fell, on the carpet, going uphill. The 8 year old skier behind me laughed her ass off.

Day two had breezy beginnings. We did a few warm up runs down the bunny hill, and Alexander took us through some basic heel edge stuff. I wobbled down the hill, nervous about the speed I picked up as I went. Meanwhile, the under-12 Sunshine Racing group FLEW past me. Our evening ended with the chairlift. I confessed to Gavin how nervous I was. He laughed, not entirely sure why I would be so scared. I boarded the chair with ease and I didn’t even fall while unloading! Success! The 14 year old girl in my class was boasting and bragging that she was at the hill all day, and she had been on the chairlift “like, so many times” already. I told her I couldn’t come to the hill because I worked all day. She said, “it sucks to be an adult.” When the lesson was over, she complained that she couldn’t stay because her mom was there to pick her up. I said, “Oh, too bad you can’t drive yourself. Sucks to be a kid. Plus, I’m going to eat chocolate cake for dinner because I’m an adult and I can do whatever I want.” In hindsight, I shouldn’t have let a 14 year old get under my skin so easily.

Day three felt amazing. It was the culmination of all the little tips and tricks Alexander had been giving us the last two nights. I only fell once getting off the chairlift, face first, and had to army crawl out of the way to safety. We worked on our edge swapping, and began fine tuning our skills. I was actually getting the hang of it, successfully snaking my way down the hill.

If you had told me a week ago that I would be successfully edge swapping, excited to get on a chairlift, and looking forward to the next time I go snowboarding, I would have laughed right in your face and called you a dirty liar. But look at me now! I challenged myself to try something new, something I thought I would be bad at, and I feel like a million bucks.

Australasia, Travel Stories

Hiking to the top of Mount Doom, in New Zealand

February 10, 2017 Beth Leave a comment

April, 2014

We woke up at 5:30am this morning. That’s right, 5:30am. The last time I was up at 5:30am it was because I was still awake from the night before! I dressed and head out into the kitchen where everyone was already sorting breakfast. The whole gang loaded into the van before the sun was even hinting at rising, and made our way to the Tongariro Crossing. We pulled into the parking lot and piled out of the van. Here I was, standing in front of Mount Ngauruhoe, the mountain featured in Lord of the Rings as Mount Doom, about to climb it. Oh boy.

We arrived at what is known as the “Devil’s Staircase.” The steps aren’t steep, it’s just that there are a ton of them. I wish I had counted. (Later I will google the height of the Devil’s Staircase and will find out that the staircase climbs from 1400 to 1600 metres above sea level). It was taxing, and I was tired, but I didn’t make a sound. I didn’t want to be whiny. Ebba and I climbed in silence, other than my delicate panting.

We reached the top of the staircase and stared back from whence we came. Holy mackerel! It was the most beautiful view I have seen in a long while. What made the view more beautiful, of course, is that I hiked to this spot. I am a champion. I smiled. With not one damn cloud in the whole damn sky, I couldn’t think of one place I would rather be than right here, alongside all these other breathless trampers.

I looked up, and Mount Ngauruhoe loomed over us. Mount Doom! I felt like Frodo Baggins and Ebba, my Samwise Gamgee. I had to make it up to the summit and drop my ring into the flaming fire of the volcano. I nerded out for a moment. We began our climb to the top. My friends seemed to fly up the hill. They left Deb and I to fend for ourselves. She said, “some team effort, eh guys?” I laughed. Then I realized why Deb and I were taking so long. Not only was it our horrendously inappropriate footwear and our lack of physical fitness, but it was also terribly hard to climb when laughing so much. We shared jokes, stories, and anecdotes as we scrambled up the loose rock and sand. We helped each other, yelling out inspiring words to one another, and all the strangers we passed. We reached the part of the climb where we would take two steps forward, and fall one step back. It was exhausting. My feet scrambled, my hands scrambled, and it was SO tiring. It felt like huge weights were attached to each of my limbs, and I was climbing through maple syrup.

And then, I made it.

I stood at the top of Mount Doom! I laughed and cheered like a fool, and hugged all my patient friends. I looked back to where I had climbed and saw a beautiful stretch of New Zealand landscape. Oh. My. Nature. I could see as far as the spherical earth would let me. I stood in silence and total breathlessness for a split second. One sneaky tear escaped my eye, and I laughed as I wiped it away. Come on Beth, don’t let anyone see how weepy you get when something is beautiful. I turned around and found myself looking into a giant crater. Standing on an active volcano is not as scary— or hot— as I thought. All I could feel was joy. WE CRUSHED THAT VOLCANO!

Europe, Travel Stories

A cheesy day in Alkmaar, Netherlands

February 3, 2017 Beth Leave a comment

April, 2015

I woke up this morning at about 6:30am because the early bird catches the cheese! I rolled out of bed, grabbed an orange and a granola bar, put on clothes and head out the door. I met Rebecka, Line, Tine, and Fanny at Centraal station at 7:30. Phew it was early. It’s my own fault, it was my idea to meet this early. We caught the train and in no time, we arrived in Alkmaar! We were here to partake in the infamous Alkmaar cheese market. We wandered from the train station to the main square. On the way, we found ourselves caught up in a cluster of old people getting off a bus. They were slow moving and seemed to be creaking as they walked. We were able to outrun this gaggle of geezers and we reached the square. It was empty. I felt silly. First of all, I forced my friends to wake up SO early, and second, we dipped and ducked through that hoard of octogenarians like our lives depended on it, only to find there was no reason to rush. Line, Tine, and Fanny decided to go for a coffee, and Rebecka (bless her) and I stood in the front row, waiting for the show to begin.

It did and I couldn’t stop giggling. We were introduced to the Cheese Father, but I couldn’t figure out why he was called the Cheese Father, or what his significance was other than his orange top hat and silver cane. The 13kg wheels of gouda cheese were loaded onto cheese boards and run from the stacks to the weigh house, then back to the wagons. There were people walking around tasting, examining, and buying the cheese.

It was such a silly, hilarious event. Rebecka and I were even able to hold a wheel of cheese! We didn’t last for the entire show, because the tourists behind us were becoming very aggressive. One man kept using my shoulder to steady his camera. The woman next to me took around 300 photos. I was being pushed into the gate like I was at a rock concert. We snuck out of the crowd.

We went to the cheese museum next, so we could have a free piece of cheese, and learn a bit more about the cheese processes. After all the cheese-centric activities, the only thing missing was beer. We sat on a patio boat outside the beer museum, and enjoyed a nice, cold beer.

Today was brought to you by cheese! I just wrote “cheese” 13 times…14 if you include this sentence.

Europe, Travel Stories

Taking in a Sex Show in Amsterdam

January 27, 2017 Beth Leave a comment

April, 2015

Kelsey and I decided to do what every British ‘Lad’ does when they come to Amsterdam on a Monday night— go to the Red Light District! We wandered around the streets, in all their Monday night glory, which could be confused for Friday or Saturday night glory, honestly. It was very busy! We were enthralled by the prostitutes in their windows. They were beautiful!! I don’t know what I expected. I thought maybe Monday’s prostitutes wouldn’t be as good as Friday’s? At any rate, I was an uncomfortable, prudish Canadian, and awkwardly smiled at each when I accidentally made eye contact after they tapped on the glass, coaxing me to look. We were surrounded by men, mostly British, mostly drunk.

After a lap of the main two streets, we decided to take the leap! We walked into the Moulin Rouge, paid our entry, and were ushered up the stairs. We jumped at the opportunity, to sit in the very front row! We took our seats, ordered our drinks, and eagerly awaited the show to start. Please note, that words used in the rest of this story include, ‘breasts,’ ‘vagina,’ ‘sex,’ and ‘cum’. Viewer discretion is strongly advised.

The first lady of the evening was dressed in a sexy milkmaid outfit, and brought a banana out with her. She came down from the stage to choose volunteers from the audience, but not before she took Kelsey’s hands, put them on her breasts, and shimmied. Kelsey exclaimed, “they’re real!” The stripper said, “I’m saving for silicone!” and laughed. She brought up four audience members. They were all so embarrassed. It was great! She danced a little, took off her clothes, and then slapped each of the ‘volunteers’ in the face with her tits. It was amazing. I didn’t even know breasts could do that! She peeled her banana, took a chunk off and held it in her mouth. One of the guys had to eat it! She put the next piece in between her breasts. The next piece, she put on her stomach. The last piece was still in the peel, and she put it in her vagina. The faces of the guys on stage were as red as cheeks could be. She would be my favourite of the evening. The next woman lit a candle and balanced it in her vagina as she somersaulted and rolled all over the stage. The next kept a ribbon bundled up inside her and had an audience member hold one end as she danced around the stage and on the pole, and the ribbon unraveled.

Then it was time for the main event. The woman walked out wearing a cape, devil horns, and she carried a giant book. Then the man came out wearing a mask and a cape. She undressed, then he undressed, then they had sex. You know what, it was actually quite boring! The woman made not one facial expression. At all. It was robotic, forced, and very anti-climactic. Literally. Not that a cum shot would have made the show any less exciting, but it would have been a less uncomfortable way to end the show. I am glad we did it, because ‘when in Rome’, but I don’t think I would see a sex show again. Unless it was the banana girl, she was highly entertaining.

red-light-district — Photo by @seattletoshanghaiandbackagain

North America, Travel Stories

Hungover at a Waterfall near Vancouver

January 20, 2017 Beth Leave a comment

July, 2016

Today was a totally beautiful day. Madison and Sarah picked me up to whisk me away for a forest adventure. I was hungover, yes, but itching for a nature day. We made it to Tim Horton’s just in the nick of time before they stopped serving breakfast, for a hangover hash brown sandwich and a few cups of coffee. We hopped back in the car and were on the way to the forest. I was one happy camper.

We arrived and began our ‘quick’ walk to the waterfall. I say ‘quick’ because I am sure it was, but the heat, the hash brown sandwich, and the hangover, were not a solid combination for a walk in the woods. The shade from the trees was so welcoming. We walked to the end of the path and found a beautiful waterfall. Oh God, that rushing water made me thirsty AF. How I just wanted to be in that water. It was so clear, and a beautiful shade of green, and just so enticing! There was a deep, clear pool above the waterfall, and it looked perfect for a swim, but the water was flowing quickly, no scratch that, it was straight up rushing, so we decided we wouldn’t swim above it. Instead, we walked back down the path and found a secluded spot in the sun across the river.

Madison and I, scoping out the perfect spot

We walked through the water, set up our towels in the sun, and put on our swimmers. Then, it was into the water, the glacial water, the ice cold, glacial water. Let’s call it ‘fresh’. It was so, damn fresh! We all shrieked and giggled as we waded in. Sarah and Madison were far braver than I, and just dove under the water right away. There I stood, ice water up to my belly button, nipples ready to cut glass, shivering, like a wimp, for ages. I couldn’t bring myself to do it! That is until Sarah handed me her GoPro and told me to dive… Anything for Instagram, AMIRITE?!

We spent the rest of the day eating, chatting, and sunning ourselves. It was glorious! We filled our floaty boat with air and while Sarah napped, Madison and I went for a quick float down the creek. We hopped in the floaty boat and just laughed the whole way around the bend. I was nervous I might pee because I was laughing so hard, but I didn’t! We clambered out of the boat and the sky had turned the exact opposite colour— from blue to black— and we could see lightning in the distance over one of the mountains. It was ominous to say the least. We packed up our stuff with such speed and crossed back over the river to the path.

We reached the other side of the water, and it began to rain!!! Now, I don’t always use three exclamation points, but when I do it’s when I am talking about extreme weather. It was POURING. Within seconds, my clothes were soaked right through to my skin. I used my deflated floaty boat over my head and backpack in an attempt to keep dry. It didn’t work. Not one bit. We hiked back out through the forest, sloshing through puddles and laughing at our luck. We may have been totally and absolutely drenched, but we were laughing. Back in the car, and back to the city. The best hangover day ever.

Asia

Fishing in Koh Rong, Cambodia

January 13, 2017 Beth Leave a comment

January, 2014

We jumped on the boat and I said “let’s sit on the side, by the window!” We found four seats, that were not next to the window, much to my dismay, and the boat was off. Now, quick side note: when we booked these tickets the other day, Dermott asked the guy, “is it really rocky? Do you feel all the waves?” The man assured us not, and told us how new the boat was and that, “it really just flies.” Ok. That’s the side note. We were out in the ocean, and the waves were huge! I would even call them tumultuous. (I did, in fact, say to my friends, “these waves are tumultuous!”) Some of the windows were broken too, and the waves splashed into the boat. ALL over a few people sitting by the windows. It was pretty funny to watch, especially because I wasn’t sitting by the window like I originally pouted about.

We arrived to Koh Rong and fell in love immediately. Emma and I looked at each other and without speaking, both took our sandals off. Those wouldn’t be back on my feet until I stepped back on this boat. We rocked up to a hotel and asked if hey had rooms. They had two private rooms left! As luck would have it! $15 a night for one room, it was perfect. Some folks that Dermott and Meghan knew from a hostel earlier in their travels were hanging around the beach! Claire, Amy, and Ben. They invited us to go fishing! After some sun lotion, and some sun baking, we walked to the pier with them and boarded a boat. The skipper, Tillman, loaded the cooler with beer, and off we went.

There I was, boating around a tropical jungle, and untouched paradise. When we went close enough to shore, we could see monkeys sitting on the rocks! We jumped off the boat and had a snorkel. We saw some incredible things. Giant sea urchins with huge pointy black spines, big lip things that are like clams (and might actually be clams) that look like they have huge lips, and when they eat, it looks like someone blowing their lips like a horse. We also saw this weird body rolling organism. It was like a magic carpet fish and body rolled through the water. Again, incredible. And we invented a dance move that mimics the movements of it. I love it.

After snorkelling, we boated a bit more around the island, and let the anchor go. It was here that we would fish. We fished with spools. It was SO cool. I caught 8 fish! They were only small guys, but we didn’t throw anything back. Emma caught the biggest fish. We boated to Long Beach (the longest beach on the island) and the Cambodian guys from the boat began gutting and cooking the fish. We were each given a plate with a whole fish on it. No utensils. I was in barbaric heaven. There is nothing better that picking at a freshly caught, freshly cooked fish with your fingers. Oh em gee.

The sunset made the day. I love the fact that though there is a sunset every day, it is still so very magical. I looked at Emma and felt a rush of joy. Look where we are, paradise. One of the most beautiful beaches, with the sun setting over beautiful water, eating a beautiful meal, with my beautiful best friend. How could I possibly be happier? The boat trip home was quick. As I gazed at the moon, and thought about my happiness. I seem to do that a lot, think about how happy I am. I am so happy.

North America, Travel Stories

The Perfect Weekend in Canmore

January 6, 2017 Beth Leave a comment

Saturday, November 28

Today, Joslyn and I head out into the mountains for an adventure. We started in Goat Pond which is my favourite place near Canmore. As we drove up the side of the mountain, Joslyn was so surprised by the cars driving the other way. Some of them were spotless. She commented on how clean they all were, and I joked that maybe there was a mountain car wash at the top of the mountain. How very Canadian… We parked and went for a quick walk around the pond. It was beautiful. The most beautiful, clear, blue-skied day. We couldn’t have asked for better weather.

We drove on along the road towards Spray Lakes. I haven’t ever driven past Goat Pond before, so I was excited to be exploring. Up the road, we saw a gathering of vehicles. “I bet there’s wildlife over there!” I exclaimed! Joslyn joked, “wouldn’t it be crazy if it was a moose?”

It was.

It was a god damn mother moose and her calf! As we drove up, we saw clearly that these two moose were licking the salt off the car parked on the side of the road. It was AMAZING! We pulled over to the other side of the road and were taking pictures frantically, giddy, giggling, and screaming with excitement. We wept. I was so happy to be seeing my first ever moose. What a time to be alive. The mother moose kept looking over at us, curious perhaps. She looked up, then went back to licking then looked up again, then went back to licking. Then she began walking towards our car. Oh. My. God. Is she going to jump on top of the car and into the sun roof and attack us? No, in fact, she was just craving that mineral and began licking our car! A moose car wash! There IS a car wash at the top of the mountain! We sat in the car, laughing our heads off, crying tears of joy. I saw a moose! Happy first moose, Beth. The moose and calf walked into the forest and disappeared. We smiled and we waved goodbye.

We arrived back at our cabin, physically and emotionally exhausted. After Joslyn had a nap, and I had a giant bubble bath— I know, I am royalty— we finished our night off in Banff at the Grizzly House for a fondue frenzy! We cooked our beautiful chunks of meat and wiped the garlic butter splatter off our wine glasses. Our dessert course came and we quickly finished the fruit and cookies for dipping. A few drips of chocolate remained on my plate and without the slightest hesitation, I lifted the plate up and cleaned it off with my tongue. I said to Joslyn, “do you think boys are trying to pick us up right now?” as I licked chocolate off my plate.

What a day we had in the mountains today!

Blue sky? Check.

Mountains? Check.

Moose? Check.

A bubble bath fit for a queen? Check.

A fondue extravaganza? Check.

Red wine with my girlfriend? Check.

Methinks this was the perfect day.

Australasia, Travel Stories

New Years Eve in Sydney, Australia

December 30, 2016 Beth Leave a comment

December 31, 2013

Sydney, Australia

I found my way to Darling Harbour, and stopped in the King’s Brewhouse to meet up with my buddy Rob for an ice cold pint. He works this evening, so I am spending New Years on my own, but we made plans to meet up later. After midnight, I would come back to Darling Harbour, find wifi, and we would meet up.

I left the bar and began my wander over to the Sydney Opera House. Finding out there were 2.6 million people already lining the entirety of Sydney Harbour should have been the first clue: that was the last time I would see Rob today. I shuffled past millions (literally) of people, and found myself in the centre of a parking lot, turned picnic area. Over the loudspeaker I heard an announcement telling us that the section we were in was now at capacity, and nobody else is allowed in. I began to scope the area. My plan was to find an empty space among the throngs, and just sit myself down next to some nice looking people. The criteria was easy; youngish. And then I found them! Three young ladies, indiscreetly drinking wine, sitting next to a big empty space, on the other side of which, were three handsome and very tanned young men, doing an even worse job of concealing their wine! I asked the girls if I could join them, and they allowed it. We began chatting. The men on my other side realized we were all backpackers and joined our conversation. Our group was so wonderful. Two ladies from Sweden, one from Spain, a Dutch guy, two boys from France, and a Canadian!

40 minutes to go…

We all had alcohol in our bags and were all doing a laughable job of concealing it. We continued to drink and get to know each other. The conversation we had was entertaining to say the least. Someone would say something that was super witty and funny, but nobody would really laugh. So, they would have to explain what they meant. It was lovely. The five different first languages, the noise from the millions (literally) of people around us, and the irresponsible amount of wine we had all drunk up to this point, didn’t really help the conversations.

25 minutes to go…

I went to a stand nearby and bought a few light up toys. They were light up swords, and were exactly what our wine-saturated group needed. There was a little boy nearby our blanket, who was also wielding a light up sword. I challenged him to a duel. We combatted our swords like proper knights, and when he sliced my side with his light, I made a huge scene as I died. The people around us cheered and laughed. The two French guys grabbed their swords and attacked with a vengeance. The little boy sliced them, and they too, acted out excessive death scenes. The crowd around us went wild. The boy bowed, sheathed his blade, and walked back to his mom.

10 minutes to go…

The noise around us grew. The once empty spaces in the crowd had now filled up, people were almost yelling to hear each other, and I could hear a lot more drunken singing in the distance. The loudspeakers began to play music. All of a sudden, the crowd joined in the countdown, 10…9…8…7…6… I looked around at my new friends, drunkenly counting down, swaying back and forth, faces to the sky…5…4…3…2… My face began to hurt from smiling so much. Tears of joy began to well up in my eyes…1… Oh. My. God. The fireworks lit up the sky. Everywhere were fireworks. Everywhere. I looked on in amazement, and childlike joy. There were seven different points from which the fireworks were being lit. In front of me was a full 180 degrees of colour and explosions and magic. I couldn’t believe the beauty. I looked on with wonder. As the blasts echoed off the buildings behind us, and around the Harbour, the crowd burst into song. There I was, in the midst of 2.6 million people singing Auld Lang Syne.

Happy New Years, world!

North America, Travel Stories

Enjoying Some Natural Hot Springs

December 23, 2016 Beth Leave a comment

Any Calgarian will tell you, one of the best parts about living in this city, is our backyard— the Rocky Mountains. Whether you are an extreme, outdoorsy, winter adventurer, or a sitting in the lodge by the fireplace, hot chocolate with Bailey’s drinker, we can all agree, there is something damn magical about those Rockies. One glorious weekend in December, three of my most fabulous friends and I drove out to spend some time in Radium, B.C., in and around those devilishly handsome mountains.

On Friday night, we had big plans to go to Radium Hot Springs. We were having a few drinks, ate a delicious dinner, and as you do with fantastic company, chatted around the table for a while. Tyler used his phone to look up the opening hours of the facility. It closed in 45 minutes! Ay Carumba!!! We scrambled to get all of our things ready, changed into our swimmers, and ran out the door. We arrived, ran to the door, and discovered it was locked. Turns out, the pools stop entrance thirty minutes before close. Damn. Defeated, we walked back to the car. In the parking lot, there was a big sign, one of those signs with the face cut out. After taking one ridiculous picture of my face through the sign— which turned me into a mountain cat saying, “I like underpasses”— we piled back in the car and head back home.

The next morning we ate bacon and eggs for breakfast. Perfect. We piled back in the car and head to Invermere. It was here, we would treat ourselves to a delicious Kicking Horse cup of coffee. We continued our drive past the lake, and to Lussier Hot Springs. We were unable to get into the paid pools in Radium last night, we would find ourselves a free pool today! Lussier Hot Springs is at the end of a treacherous cliff-side road, with a good ol’ “drop to your death” to one side. We arrived and parked, and walked down the steep path to the river. How cool! There are three natural pools, of varying heats, that are positioned right next to a rushing, mountain river. We were one of three groups there— plenty of room for everyone. We stripped down to our swimmers and slid slowly into the hottest pool. We spent three hours at Lussier Hot Springs that morning. We chatted with the local old naked guy, and a few other groups, but mostly just talked about how amazing the water felt.

Our fingers had sufficiently pruned and our skin reeked of sulphur. We drove back out to the highway. Garrett had the bright idea to stop near Radium at an old mine turned swimming hole. He called it “the cliffs,” which made me feel like I was in high school and was about to go somewhere my mother wouldn’t approve of.

We wandered down the forested path and found ourselves in front of a stunning watering hole. The snow hung on the branches surrounding, the air was crisp and silent, and the water reflected the scene like a mirror.

Here we stood, eating chips and drinking beer, marvelling at the beauty and wonder of nature. After a slippery ascent back to the car, we drove back to Radium. Another totally whimsical, relaxing, and perfect weekend in the mountains.