Whistler – Page 2 – Footloose Diary

Rohr Lake – Cayoosh Range, BC

Published on August 23, 2014September 12, 2023 by CapucineLeave a comment

Camping has always been an important part of my life. Since I moved to the west coast in 2003, I camp almost every weekend from late spring to early autumn. In the winter, I camp in the cabins of the backcountry. I don’t mind cold temperatures and am not scared of the wild. In fact, I always put up my tent in the wilderness, places where no one goes, and probably no one’s been. Camping is for me a way of disconnecting from the hustling of my everyday life, reconnecting with myself and finding healing through nature. In fact, for me, there is nothing like the feeling of the mothering power from the earth under my bare feet, the cleansing of my lungs from the pure air, the soothing sound of nature in my ears, and the eye candy images of the natural beauty surrounding me.

I have done truck, boat, canoe, and snowmobile camping. However, I have never camped by foot. I have done a lot of day hikes. However, I have always come back at dusk thinking how great would it be to sleep here under the stars. When I called my outdoorsy friend Claudel and explained her my plan, she jumped aboard instantly.

Most of the hiking trails here in the Sea to Sky are part of Provincial Parks or are watershed areas. Both owners of active dogs, we had to find a trail that allowed our furry friends to happily run wild and free. After a long research, I found Rohr Lake.

Rohr Lake is situated in the Cayoosh Range, on an alpine bench north east of Mt Rohr. The trail is a 15km round trip, for beginner/advanced hikers. I had never heard of it, neither Claudel. There wasn’t much information on the Internet or in the trailmap book, only a few blogs from people that attempted the trail. Perfect, we thought, an unknown and uncrowded trail, exactly up our alley!

We each packed a travel backpack with warm and light clothes, hiking shoes and flip-flops. We had one tent, a chicken salad, a homemade guacamole and corn chips, 2 panini sandwiches, a bunch of grapes and a few energy bars. Claudel brought her sleeping bag and mattress. I went commando on that. I had to leave room for the wine (2 bottles of red, and a sparkling for the mimosas in the morning. Oh and a 6-pack of ciders). Water, dog food, flashlights, whistles, lighters, tissues, cups, cutlery… Our bags were probably half our weight.

It was the last day of spring, on a beautiful and sunny late morning in June. We drove north on Highway 99 to Mt Currie towards Lillooet, on the Duffy Rd. When we passed Joffre Lakes and crossed the first bridge, we turned left onto an unassigned logging road.

We drove as far as our car could go, and parked on the side of the trail. If you have a 4WD, you can probably access the trailhead.

We walked the rest of the road to the beginning of the trail. It wasn’t much later than 15 min of walking on an easy surface that I thought to myself: Maybe Claudel was right, we could have brought just one bottle of wine…

The first few km were quite lovely. It was a very easy hike through a well marked forest trail. At times we hopped on rocks to cross streams, at other times traversed stomps over creeks.

After a steep path, we arrived at the intersection of Aspen and Rohr Lake, where we stopped to catch our breath.

After a confusion in directions, having to drop our bags down on the ground and search for the trail, we found our way and got back on track. The soil was muddy and slippery, wet and snowy. Yet, we were still pretty clean. We made our way to the alpine meadow, where a blanket of moss appeared under the melting snow.

There was so much snow still that no trail was to be seen. On our right side, there was a rock facade where the stream came down. We knew there was going to be an abrupt 300m uphill, and there it had to be. We left the bags on the grass and climbed the rocks. Miraculously, I spotted a red little flag attached to a tree, flowing in the wind. We scrambled back down the rocks, and picked up our loads.

This wasn’t easy. As much as I could freely jump from rock to rock without my bag, now with 50 pounds glued to my back, I felt unbalanced with a lack of dexterity.

“So this is what it is to hike with an alcoholic!” mocked Claudel, with a winking smile, while climbing the wall with both hands and feet.

Indeed, the fermented juice we both carried made the hike most challenging. Yet, so rewarding!

After climbing the steep hill, reaching for rocks through the stream and our feet sinking in mud, we made our way on top. We turned around and caught a glimpse of the alpine.

We made it to Rohr Lake, pristine water surrounded by beautiful mountain. Plus, we had it all to ourselves!

Why bring a mattress when you can find natural cushiness? I made one from cedar. Even Lady used it for a rest.

The wine was definitely worth the effort and the sweat!

We celebrated the summer solstice that night up at Rohr Lake. We said farewell to spring as the sun hid behind the mountains. We watched the stars shimmer the sky at night. And when the sun rose up from a short night sleep, we listened to the birds chirping to a new and beautiful morning of summer.

A Decade In Such Great Heights

Published on October 13, 2013August 17, 2022 by Capucine9 Comments

500 weeks ago, I headed west aboard a Greyhound bus on the Trans Canada Highway, bringing along a poor English, a backpack, a snowboard and just a few dollars in my pockets. After spending the summer by the sea in Victoria, BC, working at a Yögen Früz to learn a second language, I migrated to the city. However, the crowdedness of the streets, the continuous autumn rain and the stressful lifestyle wasn’t for me. I travelled north of Vancouver for a day, to explore a magical town that I heard so much about. Indeed dreamy, lively and chummy, I found myself immersed in a bubble of eternal smiles where people actually…lived. I met a group of local residents, a few of them also from Quebec, and soon enough we clicked and exchanged numbers. And this is where it all started…

On October 13th, 2003, I packed my bags and headed towards Whistler. A week earlier, I have accepted an invitation to rent a room at these locals’ house. I barely knew them, had no idea where it was located, but I knew I was going to move to Whistler. I found myself sharing a room in a garage with a stranger and paying the full price of $450 a month. The basement suite was old and dated. The wooded walls were dusty, the rooms were dark and the carpet moldy… It was perfect! I was so happy to be there that nothing could stop my ecstatic joy.

At 19 years old, I have found my paradise, on my own, away from home, in the unknown. I was the happiest girl. I got a job right away cleaning luxurious homes and working on the mountain serving chilly potatoes to hungry skiers and snowboarders from all around the world. While friends at home started university, I started my own. It could not have been a better English immersion. It could not have been better life lessons. I lived in million dollar homes, I snowboarded the best terrain in the world, I met inspiring people. I became part of the movement: the young at heart, the free spirits, the gypsies of the world. I made friends that became my family, I matured up and evolved, I became fluent and I live life at the fullest.

I remember when we used to gather around the steps of Moguls warming up on each other’s mountain stories of the day. I remember feeding on Raman noodles and 0.99$ loafs of bread and 8-packers of Pilsner. I remember the 50cm powder days, waking up at 5am to be the first in the line-up and getting stuck all day. I remember the people that came and then left, but always returned. I remember the ones that stayed and became the wonderful family I have today.

Now, 10 years later, I look back at all those years that went by. I am so thankful for having found such a perfect bubble nestled in paradise. A place to call my home. Thanks to all of those that helped me through this journey, the ones that tagged along, the ones that inspired. Thanks to the community who made me feel like a human, with passions to follow, dreams to pursue. And thanks to the mountains, the ones that gave me fresh air to breathe, hills and trees to ride, magical snowflakes to fall from the sky. You made me feel alive.

I might not be on your ground at the moment, but I raise my Moroccan tea in your honor. Cheers to you Whistler, and thanks for the good ride.

Note: I apologize for any mistakes, this is written on an iPhone with a poor Moroccan Internet connection.

Whistler Exposed

Published on May 1, 2009August 17, 2022 by CapucineLeave a comment

Whistler is a four-season resort destination located in the Southern Pacific Ranges of The Coast Mountains, and only a short drive from one of Canada’s largest cities, Vancouver. Its two adjacent mountains surrounded by ancient glaciers offer the greatest vertical rise and best terrain variety for skiing and snowboarding in all of North America. This young century-old town is a not only ‘a place of scenic wonders’,but also a region with a rich history and cultural background.

Originally known as London Mountain, Whistler was found by British explorers in the 1880’s. Its convenient location became a trading route attracting trappers and prospectors, such as John Millar and Henry ‘Harry’ Horstman. In the early 20th century, during a trip to the city to sell fur, Millar influenced Alex Philips to come experience fishing up north. With his wife Myrtle, the Phillips made the three-day trip to the valley. Inspired by their surroundings, they fell in love with the place and decided it would be the perfect location to realize their dream: To open a fishing lodge. They bought 10 acres of land and started to build cabins. With the help of the Tapley’s family, the Rainbow Lodge was completed in 1914. The Pacific Great Easter Railway also reached Alta Lake that year, making the area more accessible, with only one day travelling time from the city. With easier access, renowned hospitality, perfect setting, andexcellent fishing, the Rainbow Lodge became the most popular tourist resort of the 1920’s. Their work inspired others and new lodges opened throughout the valley in the 1950’s.

In 1965, Whistler officially found its name from the sound of Hoary Marmots. The village of Creekside was built that same year with a narrow gravel road and a few hydro lines. Then came the first lifts. In 1966, a new era in Canadian skiing was born in with the opening of Whistler Mountain.

An emerging ski-bum culture arose throughout the 1960’s and 1970’s attracting youthful, fun-seekers and free-spirited individuals. With nowhere else to stay, ski bums occupied empty buildings, or squatted on crown land.

The iconic picture of Toad Hall reminds us of this era, showing bare-bummed Whistler skiers posing outside the squat from which they were getting evicted. Whistler Village became a municipality in 1976 when the garbage dump was changed into a tourist village. And when Intrawest bought and merged Whistler and Blackcomb mountains, also operating a mountain bike park during the summer, the resort of Whistler/Blackcomb became a year-round global attraction. In 2003, when the resort won the bid of hosting the 2010 Olympic Games, a 50 year dream was realized.

The construction of the remarkable Peak to Peak gondola connecting both mountains peaks followed in 2008. In just a few decades, Whistler has grown from a little sleepy fishing village to a word-class, year-round resort destination attracting over 2 millions visitors each year. Nowadays, many establishments, mountain runs, and parks hold the names of the dreamers that built the town. Places such as the Horstman Hut, Tapley’s Pub, Millar’s Creek, and the Phillips cabins at Rainbow Lake commemorate the work and achievement of such visionary pioneers. The five Olympic rings standing,in the now called Ceremony Plaza in the village,remind us of another dream that came true. Once in a while, a bare-naked skier might be seen running through the cobble-stoned streets of the village, reminiscent of the town’s humble and free spirited beginnings. For more information about the beginnings of Whistler, visit: