You Want Me to do What? Hike? Surely you Jest!

I was busy working on the computer today and got completely sidetracked. Evidently, sometime last fall, I sent a ton of pictures from our Alaskan cruise to my email so I could create a book to commemorate our once-in-a-lifetime trip. I had planned to give it to Vince as a Christmas gift.

Yeah, like that happened.

Things were pretty hectic this past fall and I barely had time to order Christmas gifts from Amazon on Cyber Monday, let alone spend countless hours creating a photo book.

You see, my mother-in-law (or, technically, my step-mother-in-law) passed away unexpectedly the morning after we returned from that once-in-a-lifetime excursion. And I’ve barely had a moment to give thought to that experience ever since.

So today I came across all those photos and I took a little trip down memory lane.

We had some amazing moments. We spent a day and a half sightseeing in Seattle before the cruise and then spent a couple days afterwards exploring Vancouver, BC.

So please indulge me and let me tell you today about one of our experiences. (Oh, and hey, if I write more about the trip, the stories will not be sequential. And they will be in no particular order of importance. Just whatever my 60-year-old mind can recall!)

This particular memory came after the cruise once we landed in Vancouver. This is a city none of us had ever visited and the four of us were pretty much flying by the seat of our pants, although we did take some sightseeing advice from our lovely host and hostess at Crystal's View B&B.

One day we decided to see what the Capilano Suspension Bridge was all about. So we took a bus…and then another bus…and maybe even a third bus – I lost count – but we ended up at the Capilano suspension bridge where we paid good money to walk (or stumble) across a 450 foot long bridge suspended 230 feet over the Capilano river.

It was incredibly beautiful…there was much flora and fauna. Green everywhere. And there were lots of tourists in plastic rain ponchos thoughtfully provided by the park since we were pelted by rain pretty much the entire length of the bridge.

But let me warn you to cross this particular attraction off your bucket list if you have any qualms whatsoever about (a) heights, (b) crowds or (c) tottering across swaying wooden planks that is akin to walking on a tightrope without the stabilizing pole tightrope walkers carry. 

I had a death grip on the railing, which was fortunately made out of metal. Had it been wood, I fear I would have left claw marks behind.

Once we had our fill of the park (and managed to totter back from whence we came), we headed to the bus stop for our next destination – the Capilano Salmon Hatchery.

Susan – the only one of the four of us who did any sort of research on the area (and who should, therefore, get a gold star for her efforts) thought this would be a fine addition to our tour that day.

I should tell you that people in Vancouver are an awfully friendly lot and those riding the bus were no different. They were more than happy to tell us which stop we needed to disembark the bus to get to the hatchery.

Now, admittedly, I am the last person anyone would turn to for directional advice, but when we got off the bus we seemed to be in a residential neighborhood. I couldn’t fathom how a salmon hatchery could be plunked down in the middle of a cul-de-sac.

But we gamely walked on in search of the little fishies. We spotted some locals walking their dog and they told us to keep on going. And sure enough, within a few moments we found ourselves in a dark forest with winding trails and steep hills.

See? BFFs despite my attitude.

Let me just confess that I am not the hiking sort. I have a bad right knee and a bad left ankle. If I am forced to hike, I do so with an attitude. And even less appealing to me than hiking – is hiking in the rain.

So there I was – hiking in the rain. With an attitude.

My BFF, Susan, scampered on ahead – far ahead – lest she come within striking distance of my scowl.

Had there been any sort of bench along the trail, I would have sat down upon it and refused to budge. But, alas, there was no place to rest my aching left ankle and right knee. And, by the way, I once went to a fish hatchery – and I would have been quite content with that one and done experience.

Nevertheless, I gamely marched on. Frankly, I didn’t have much of a choice.

Looking less than thrilled (or maybe just in pain!)

Eventually, we reached the salmon hatchery where we watched the leaping little buggers. This was enthralling for, oh, about two minutes. And then I spied a bench whereupon I plunked my weary bones in the futile hope that I would be magically transported back to our B&B.

While that didn’t happen, our friend Jeff announced that he was NOT traipsing back the trail to the bus stop – that he was calling a taxi.

You cannot imagine the joy I felt. I grinned like a fool. And I was never so happy to see a cabbie in all my life!

Reward at the end

I was even more delighted when he dropped us off in front of a pub where we ordered the biggest mugs of beer to toast our return to civilization.

Only after we had drained the first round was Jeff brave enough to poke fun at our day. He chortled that Sue had inadvertently tried to kill her best friend with the hike from hell.

But, hey, I was just glad to be inside and out of the elements. And drinking a beer, no less. And I certainly didn’t blame Sue. She was just trying to figure out something fun for us to do in a place that we’re not likely to be visiting again anytime soon.

Probably she deserved more than a gold star. Probably I owe her a big mug of beer. At least.