Sea to Sky Trail - Day 1
Packing too much in at Once: The Story of My Life
I love my bike. I would fight the Toronto traffic on a daily, whizzing by traffic jams (sometimes in a dress and heels) and protect the bike lane against 4-wheeled interlopers. I would much rather be on my bike than on the train, bus or car. I’ve put hours in on day trips, cycling 100 km a day visiting small towns in Southern Ontario, or parks on the outskirts of Vancouver, pep-talking myself up big hills (UBC bike hill amrite). Anyways, all of this to say, when Brian and I decided to bikepack to Whistler via the Sea to Sky trail I thought it would be no big deal (nbd).
The Sea to Sky Trail is a bike/hiking trail that is part of the Trans Canada Trail (a.k.a., the Great Trail) connecting Squamish to Whistler. The starting point is at Nexen Beach, and the endpoint is the northern tip of Green Lake north of Whistler, though we opted to stay on the south end at a high point because we were running short on time, and the views were pretty. The Trails BC website was a good starting point in planning the bike trip, showing the starting destination and final destination elevations of 0 m a.s.l and 730 m a.s.l respectively, with a total of 78 km. Our Strava records from south to north show a total elevation gain of 1360 meters and 81.04 km total km travelled. The trail brings you through a network of gravel and highway routes through:
1) Squamish —> 2)Paradise Valley —> 3) Cheakamus Canyon Trail —> 4) Highway Part 1 —> 5) Chance Creek FSR and bike trails past Shadow Lake —> 6) Highway Part 2 —> 7) Brandywine Provincial Park —> 8) Cal-Cheak —> 9) Highway Part 3 —> and finally, 10) Whistler.
My last day of Squamish had to, of course, end with a dance party with a small core group of friends. In our usual spirit, we ordered sushi, played Settlers of Catan, group-DJ’ed, danced, and drank a little too much. Like a responsible adult, Brian left early with Kiara dog (the puppy we were dog-sitting) to get a semi-decent sleep before our completely unplanned trip. At around 2:30 am, I bid my friends adieu, donned my friend’s bike helmet, and slowly cycled (and sang) her purple cruiser all the way back to where we were staying.
Brian, well-rested after responsibly deciding not to partake in parties before our bike trip. Me, hungover but with #noregrats, trying to fit in a small goodbye party with my BFFs and a bikepack trip in the same weekend (typical - doing too many things at once).
The next morning was a hungover scramble, with me trying to pack my life up from three locations and prepare for the NBD bike trip. After all was said and done (breakfast, Kiara-dog drop off, packing stages a-e, and lunch, we finally headed to the beginning of the route at Nexen Beach. By this time it is 3:30 pm, and I am still hungover.
During backing stage b or c, at Brian’s house, I pulled out the only bike shorts I could find in my stuff that’s all over BC and Saskatchewan. They are liners for mountain bike shorts, which I didn’t have at the time, and I looked in the mirror and asked Brian “Are these see-through?”. I continued on with the packing (stages d-e), my panniers and Brian’s backpack were full to the brim.
This was Brian’s new bike’s maiden voyage. He had just bought a gravel bike (a 2021 Giant Revolt) and was excited to take it out. My bike is 2014 Kona cyclocross , and I had switched out my narrow road-bike wheels for beefier wheels that could handle gravel and trails easier.
Nexen Beach was under construction, as it had been all year, and we lifted our bikes above the construction, which was unbeknownst at the time, a foreshadow of what was to come. And we set off, skirting through the trails I knew so well in Squamish having run them so many times. From the beach, through downtown, to the forests along the river. The trails lead you to Governor Street, biking through forested trails lining the road, and bring you all the way to Fergie’s. A canopied road called Paradise Valley ushers you along on a cruise through old-growth like the grand hallway of a green cathedral, crossing bridges and parallels the Cheakamus river.
Eventually, you come to a dirt road that makes your teeth chatter. My self-induced headache was not happy with the bumps, and Brian gained some major ground on me. We were about an hour in and we stopped by a pretty creek to have a snack.
Paradise valley eventually ends at an unofficial campground, with cute campsites dotted all along the riverbank, and the road littered with cobbles. The road pinches out onto a proper trail, called the Cheakamus Canyon Trail, where the Sea to Sky trail starts gaining elevation. This part of the trail is under construction, and whether or not you were meant to bike on it is questionable. Hiking would be easy, but dragging up a saddle-bagged bike up loose gravel made this one of the most difficult parts of the trip for me. The climbs are steep and the gravel (when it is there) is too loose to gain major traction. We ended up walking most of the steep sections, where we quickly learned that Brian would be doing most of the work (poor Brian).
Brian had most of the things packed away in his backpack. My saddlebags were full, bottom-weighing my bike making it awkward for me to push up steep terrain. Brian kindly asked, “Do you want to switch bikes during these parts?”.
Me, being very stubborn, quickly responded “No, I can do it myself.” This continued for about half-hour when he again asked:
“Are you sure you don’t want to switch bikes? I know you can do it, but maybe it would be quicker if I did it, and we can get back to biking.”
And, recognizing the sound judgment after he (again) gained some major ground, I agreed to switch bikes. Brian hauled all of our gear and my heavier bike up the mountain. I walked Brian’s new light bike and myself. When we got to the CN railway crossing, I was struggling to even lift his bike over the blockading boulders. He single-handedly lifted my bike with the paniers over, and I swear to God I have never been so attracted to someone in all my life. In awe of his man strength, I continued on, walking over chain link fence bridges with stunning views of the valley below, until we finally got to the Sea to Sky Highway (God damn!), the scariest part of the trip.
The Sea to Sky Trail is not a complete hiking trail, at least not yet. There are highway sections that need to be travelled, and biking on the Sea to Sky is a little dangerous because of the mountain roads and small shoulders. I wanted to get it over as quick as possible, and I speed away in front. Brian, with his admiration of local history and contexts, wanted to stop by a memorial cross and I very grumpily and hungover responded by not stopping, and waited for him a km ahead. I didn’t trust the traffic, I didn’t trust myself, and I didn’t trust my bike. He caught up, and we continued on without any qualms until we pulled over to the Chance Creek FSR and bike trails.
The trails off of the Chance Creek FSR were my favourite part of the trail. These were green-blue level single-track mountain bike trails that were good for my very beginner-style skill and comfort. We rolled through the forest on a self-directed rollercoaster, using the momentum of downhills to power our uphills, and winding our way until dusk. After four hours of biking, and knowingly stacking most of our trip for day 2, We decided to camp next to Shadow Lake (maybe against the rules?). We made set up camp, made dinner, and fell fastly asleep.
Sea to Sky Trail - Day 2
An ode to my boyfriend who is a much better biker than me, but wants me there anyway
Because of the craziness of the last month, of moving everywhere, and for me of not really having a single home base (thanks COVID), I have been struggling to go to bed and wake up. Ever since I can remember I have not been a morning person. The love for the outdoor adventures and this quality do not mesh very well, as witnessed the morning I slowly got out of my tent. My favorite morning activity is cuddling, and cuddling in the tent means me throwing my sleeping bag wrapped legs on top of Brian. We had a lovely slow morning, of breakfast and looking at the lake, and packed up and left somewhere around 10:00 am. We continued through the park until we had the next part of the highway to conquer, which was a downhill journey allowing for smooth sailing and max speeds.
Highway biking, when you’re not hungover and untrusting, is actually really fun. You can go as fast as you can and not worry about traffic lights, pedestrians, or overcrowded bike paths. We made it to Brandywine Park, which brought us back to the trails and off of the highway. We had spent some time at the beautiful Brandywine Falls a few weeks before, so skipped ahead to save on time. The park was very crowded, as per usual on a Sunday in the summer, and we wound our way through the trails to the Whistler Bungee Bridge, where we watched people giddily take the plunge off of the magnificent pedestrian bridge over the glacial waters of the Cheakamus River. Walking our bikes past, we were treated to dirt roads bringing us to the Cal-Cheak campground, biking our way all the way to past the Train Wreck (which we had seen before, so also skipped to save time) into Whistler proper.
The bike trail system in Whistler is fantastic. They demonstrate the wealth of the city, which is mostly funded by ski and bike tourism. The paved paths exhibit considerable elevation gain, leaving me to the mental chatter of saying ‘werk-werk-werk-werk’ to myself in a mantra of self determinant support. We wound our way through beautiful lakeside beaches full of people celebrating summer, thickly forested parks, stunning hotel terraced restaurants, and admired views of snow-peaked mountains that make it obvious why Whistler was chosen as a resort town before skiing was even a big thing. The Sunday Farmer’s Market was on, and though we missed the peak morning produce and baked goods, we were able to wander through and sample some of the remaining snacks and kombucha. We talked to a woman who did the Sea to Sky Trail downhill (Whistler to Squamish), and she was curious and impressed by our uphill grind. After our market visit, we mounted our bikes and followed the trail into the main tourist village, where we walked our bikes among the hundreds (thousands?) of mountain bike enthusiasts riding the Bike Park.
After filling up our waters and getting out of the main village we got onto our bikes again and went to the park in the north of the city and cycled our way to Green Lake, where we saw a beautiful black bear (and had to convince other tourists not to go chase it down for photos). We topped out with a beautiful view of Green Lake, winding through blue and green trails, and took a little break and a selfie to mark the endpoint of our Sea to Sky Trail.
Green Lake - our turn around spot. It’s all downhill from here.
On the way back, we ordered delicious pasta from the village, and snaked our way to the Coast Mountain Brewery, and enjoyed a celebratory pint and stuffing our faces with delicious, carby, cheesy pasta.
Pasta and pints at Coastal Mountain Brewery
We went back the way we came until we got to this bridge in Brandywine Park that lead to a trail we didn’t take the first time. We decided to take that trail for some new scenery. I had taken that trail with my friend Anne Marie when we did a short overnight backpacking trip with the dogs, and I remembered it being beautiful. Oh my goodness, I have never felt so dumb. It was a hiking trail for a reason, and I had seemingly forgotten that it was impossible for biking. We ended up having to carry our bikes for an hour, putting us way behind schedule. The lesson is - do not venture off the bike trail you are following, because it is mapped like that for a reason.
Eventually, we made it through and returned to the Brandywine trails that were suitable for biking. We shot out into the highway, and back onto my favourite part of the trip with the single track green and blue mountain bike trails off of the Chance Creek FSR. It was getting dark (because of my screw-up in deciding to take the other hiking trail through Brandywine), and we put on our headlamps, trying to hurry to make the other highway section before dark. Darkness fell before we hit the highway, and we ended up biking the paved section at night. I was (ridiculously) overwhelmed with shame. This was a really difficult part of the trip (for me) because it is a heavy uphill highway climb. I had to block out everything and again cheer myself on. A single tear ran down my cheek because 1) I became one of those Sea-to-Sky night riders that I had always judged; 2) I had judged the night riders, to begin with, and 3) I was about to ascend up and descend down what I considered the most difficult part of the Sea to Sky in the dark.
The gravel is thick and loose, and I had a hard time going up, and I was really nervous going down in the dark. I was also feeling nervous because Brian is a much better technical rider than me, and I was definitely feeling self-conscious about slowing him down. I was trying to hurry down and be more brave about biking on the rough, steep, and loose terrain, but after falling two and then three times, I decided it was better to take it easy and slow because getting hurt would slow us down even more. Brian (bless his soul) would wait for me at the end, again cheering me on, ‘Good job Cassia’
‘No, it’s not a good job, I didn’t even bike down.’ I sulkily replied.
‘That’s okay! It doesn’t matter how you got down. You got down!’ he said cheerfully.
‘…..’ silence and brooding steeped in the self-consciousness of slowing us down.
We eventually made our way to the beautiful patio-lit campground at the end of Paradise Valley, with curious hellos of the campers coming at us from all directions. The pot-hole-laden roads and blackness of night made me nervous to actually gain speed. Another thing I learned about myself on this trip is that when I’m overtired, I am again, less trusting of everything: my bike, the road, my ability.
“Cassia, do you see the deer?” Brian asked me excitedly.
Silence
“Cassia, did you see the coyote?” Brian asked with gentle prodding.
Tears are continually flowing down my cheeks because I’m cold, thirsty, overtired, feeling slow, and being ridiculous.
“Cassia, are you okay? You don’t need to use your breaks. It’s flat.” Brian wondering what’s wrong with me (lol).
Silence for an awkward amount of time followed by “I’m trying my best”
“Good job Cassia!’ he concludes.
We rolled into my driveway at 1:30 am. We loaded our bikes, ordered pizza, and went to Brian’s. We showered, kissed each other’s bruises, and ate pizza in bed.
Brian, looking back, said the bike trip all-in-all was easy and doable. He and his manly strength and years of living in the mountains made it very doable. I mean really, his legs are like chords of pure muscle, chiseled by years of biking up Fernie’s mountain trails. Me, on the other hand, in my flatland ways, thinking the 100 m UBC hill climb is a feat, and that my hours of Toronto commute-biking was pretty badass, had not prepared for the 1000 meters of elevation on the climb up, especially thinking I could do it hungover. I’m really proud of myself for making it there and back, and wouldn’t have been able to do it without Brian cheering me on and gently offering to help me when the time was short. Now I want a mountain bike so I can develop chord muscle legs like him (seriously, so cut), and so that I can beat him in a race. I draw the line at jumps though (even though he says that’s the best part).
The next day Brian was showing me some of the photos he took. To my shock and humiliation, those bike shorts that were not see-through when we first checked in our rushed morning, were definitely very see-through. Basically, I mooned the entirety of Whistler Sea-to-Sky traffic, sun shining on my bike, illuminating my entire butt.
My risque bike shorts.