While walking my son Toby to school, I had a creepy feeling we were being watched. Looking around, I realized that two cows were quietly following us.
Moo. They seemed particularly interested in my iPhone. Long sticky tongues were snaking their way up the outside of my sleeve as I pulled back, trying to snap a shot.
Next time perhaps I’ll check the Google Traffic status and see if the coast is clear before we head to the bus…
Technically, it’s day three but who’s counting.
We continued our assault on the hills around Whistler Village today. Starting out from the house, we were able to ride right out the door, and onto Alpine Road which climbs pretty much straight up. The first part of the day was highly technical, with a lot of carrying the bikes and both up and down some crazy stuff. We had a total blast again though. The second part of the ride gave in to more single track through the woods, which was fun, fast and so beautiful. Here’s the video, and now I must sleep.
Today the boys hit the trails. Jonathan, Rodney and I took our bikes up into the hills around Whistler and had a total blast. Blazing speeds? Nope. Astounding acrobatics? Nah. A little hung over, pretty out of shape but still having the time of our lives? Yup, that’s it. We set out after breakfast (um, way after breakfast) and headed up to Lost Lake, where we met up with a couple who gave us precise instructions. ”Go up here, take a right when the trail forks, go right, then left – it will level out for about 5 minutes, then you get to a gazebo. You can either go strait, turn right or turn left…….” You get the picture. We followed them for a bit, and then worked our way up the hill. The weather was amazing. Beautiful views from the top – and just crazy awesome mountain biking on the way down. What follows is a brief recap (minus the part where Rodney did a double flip with a twist right over a bear cub). Enjoy. We did.
Well it happened. Jonathan, Rodney and I managed to somehow put together our annual boys trip, which we seem to do about every 9 years or so. Woke up this morning and had a chance to pack a few last minute things before running for the boat. Grabbed a bag full of apples from the orchard, had a gaze at our new redneck 4×4 hauler
Our new truck!
and hit the boat. Foggy, a little chilly, a little misty – but beautiful departure from Bainbridge. I had a booth at the front of the boat and strummed my guitar as we forged through Puget Sound, somehow floating in a two thousand ton hunk of metal filled with cars and people.
Rodney showed up in the van, with bikes and gear. We grabbed Jonathan, who’s girls had to be peeled from his legs, and hit the highway.
Here’s the rainy view on the way….
We cruised up to Bellingham, grabbed some food and headed for the border. Vancouver was busy, lots of traffic! Here’s a picture of the Lions Gate Bridge from Stanley Park over to North Vancouver:
and arrived in Whistler around 4:00 pm. Our condo is modest – one small room/kitchen/dining area with a fireplace and, thank God there is a coffee maker cause we’re about a mile from the Village.
We walked around the Village and got info on mountain bike trails, grabbed a beer at the Irish pub, and then…… went to the Croc store. Yum.
Now we’re watching Fletch and getting ready for our ride tomorrow!
Here is a pizza.
It may not look like anything all that astounding, but here on the other coast, a good pie is hard to come by. In fact, I find it rather astounding that we stand for poor quality pies like Dominos and Pizza Hut. So a few years ago I took matters in my own hands and decided to attempt the creation of a high quality home cooked pizza.
This proved to be much harder than I thought. What is a good pizza? I turned to the web to learn more. Wikipedia’s entry on the subject is a good read. I have been drawn toward traditional Neapolitan pizza, and was surprised to find that there is an organization called the VPN (Verace Pizza Napoletana) based in Italy, that actually has a process by which you can certify your pizza as true Neapolitan style. I’m not sure what would happen to you and your family should you decide to call your pizzeria Neapolitan without this certification, but I’m rather certain I would not want to find out.
In any case, I believe that even though my ingredients are not imported from Italy, as required, I have achieved a rather close approximation by using a cast iron pizza pan.
I will disclose my recipe if by some miracle I get a response to my blog post…..