Part 1: In Search of Adventure

Several months after my 18th birthday I escaped high school. I had endured long enough. I had also graduated, but that's beside the point. After what felt like an eternity of soul-sucking classes I pined for adventure, for the mountains.

With another four years of school lined up for the Fall of ‘14, I had just over one year to find the jagged, snowy peaks, glacial streams and endless forests of my Shakespeare and Calculus induced dreams. With a plane ticket booked, a backpack full of wool socks and rain gear, and a bike box padded with granola bars, I headed west.

Landing in what I would soon find to be the bohemian town of Nelson, British Columbia, I set about creating the life, and lifestyle I had imagined. Few elements of the Starbucks and Lulu Lemon saturated neighbourhood of my life in Ottawa remained. Gone were the home-cooked meals, the familiar trails of Gatineau Park, the family, the friends. 

Out on my first hike, looking down on Nelson, BC.

Gone too were the tedious jobs, the University applications and the mind-numbing English classes.

However, the lure of adventure had been exceptionally strong, and in my fixated state I had overlooked some of the realities of life.  As I set about creating a life for myself in a new town and a new province, a host of unanticipated adventures presented themselves. These were not the hiking trips, mountain bike epics, or back country skiing adventures I had anticipated. 

Grocery shopping, job hunting, cooking and many other mundane tasks demanded more of my time than I had anticipated. Lofty questions such as “What on earth am I going to eat for dinner?”, “Is this shirt too wrinkled for a job interview?” and “How do you cook a chicken?” swirled in my head. 

While grocery shopping by bike had traditionally meant carting a few Rambutan (you’ve probably never heard of it) and the latest variety of green tea no more than a few kilometers down the canopied streets of Ottawa, things were different in the mountains. Lugging 40lbs of meat, cheese and legumes up steep, slippery streets of Nelson is a much different experience.

These chores were far from giving me the adrenaline rush and freedom I had dreamed of. While cooking up a chicken or working a 9-5 job is far from the end of the world (and certainly a step up from high-school classes), there will be plenty of time as a balding suburbanite to complete these pulse-pounding activities.

Cooking dinner! Keeping it simple is the name of the game. 

Refusing to lose sight of the expeditions I had dreamed of, I pressed on. I streamlined my grocery shopping and food management, drew up financial projections to optimize my time at work, and meticulously planned adventures big and small. 

And so the adventure started to flow, satiating my desire one peak, one adrenaline pumping descent, one new glorious vista at a time. I devoured it. 

After completing my first marathon in the spring, I decided to sign up for the Kaslo Sufferfest 50km Cody Claim. Here was a true adventure I could sink my teeth into. An ultra-marathon named after a race by two prospectors to claim a property rich in lucrative ore, the race is held in the quaint town of Kaslo and winds it’s way through the surrounding mountains.

After one long training run, and several punishing bike rides I was as prepared as I was going to get for the event. With the help of several new friends I managed to find my way to Kaslo, BC. Pouring rain and cold temperatures made camping in the municipal campground an un-appetizing proposition. After a bit of quick problem solving, I rolled out my sleeping bag under a table in the local Legion where I had a warm, dry sleep. 5:15 AM rolled around awfully quickly as I wolfed down a couple boiled potatoes and ran off into the cold mist, headlamp blazing.  

I ran a cautious race, warming up in the first 10km and gradually getting my legs under me as I picked up speed. Since it was a humid, cool day I ditched my water and bear spray as the sun started to rise, relying instead on the frequent aid stations manned by many cheerful volunteers.  

Duking it out in the final kilometers of the Kaslo Sufferfest.

As the race went on each section of trail developed it’s own character. I ran with an amiable fellow, and fierce competitor from Revelstoke, Rory, and we dueled it out in the final kilometers. I was happy to pull ahead at the end to win the race. Running up mountains, around lakes and through the forest was exactly the type of adventure I had envisioned. At last. 

In addition to this, I had many other fantastic adventures throughout the fall. I completed the NRG Triple Crown (a 65km mountain bike event with 8000m of elevation gain), scrambled up peaks, swam in cold rivers and ran foolish distances on rugged logging roads.

At the top of the first climb in the NRG Triple Crown. Fuelling up on coffee and donuts before the hairy descent!

Unknown location in Kokanee Provincial Park.

Soon the day’s grew shorter, and eventually November arrived with the promise of snow. It started high up in the mountains, and creeped down; marching steadily forward, it teased my anxious mind with it’s pace. By late November it had reached the front door, and left a thick, soft blanket in the mountains. Running shoes and bicycles were traded for wide skis and warm jackets, and the nature of my adventures changed. 

Click here for more photos of these adventures, and more!

Whitewater Ski Resort, looking very white! 

To be continued.