Whistler

The beginning, Part 2

I booked my first riding trip, y’all. I’m so excited!

Roughing it is the aspect of the Mongolia trip (my dream ride to the Golden Eagle Festival) that makes me the most apprehensive. I’m spoiled: electricity, indoor plumbing, heating, air conditioning… I love the comfort and convenience of it all. I mean, we probably all do. But I sleep on a high-tech mattress topper that automatically adjusts temperature through the night, so you see where I’m at. I figured I’d try a shorter, less rigorous trip first.

In August I’ll be heading out on a four-day ride through the wilderness around Whistler Mountain in British Columbia, Canada. I fly into Vancouver and drive up the Sea to Sky Highway to Whistler. The next day I’ll meet up with my fellow riders and our guides and horses at the trailhead north of there and ride up to base camp at 2000 feet. Each day we’ll ride for five to six hours, exploring Lil’wat First Nations territory through forest, across meadows, and around lakes, reaching an elevation of around 8000 feet. Returning each day to a base camp equipped with a composting toilet, hot shower, and platform tents furnished with cots sounds like a good way to ease into outdoor adventure.

Maybe exposure to easier camping on this ride will show me that I can happily go without the conveniences I usually depend on, at least for a short time. That removing concerns like adjusting room temperature to my precise preference might leave me more available for communion with the land, sky, horses, and people around me. Or else, that I should focus my travel aspirations on the realm of majestic Irish estates with well-manicured acres to roam on horseback (which, to be clear, sounds perfectly delightful).

Funny that I’m still learning who I am, what I want. It’s easy to forget that the “me” embroiled in the minutiae of daily life-- the “me” who pays taxes, folds laundry, and avoids going to the grocery store unless absolutely necessary-- is not all there is. In the past few years, I’ve focused more on listening to the quiet direction of my heart and using that as a compass when making decisions. After all, it’s not our intentions but our choices, our actions, that express who we are: how we spend our time, what we create and what we destroy, whether we share our resources, who we help and when. The sum of our actions is our lifetime, our history.

What history are you making?