Whistler Wilderness Ride, Day One

Arrival

The view from the plane while landing in Vancouver at sunset was dramatic. The sky was streaked with scarlet behind long smoky clouds and below, great hills the color of graphite rose from the water like the backs of giant sea serpents. There’s something deeply moving in the rugged beauty of the Pacific Northwest, and a lump swelled in my throat as we descended to land.

The next day I headed up the stunning Sea to Sky Highway, winding along the coast

and then curving inland, traveling between Mt. Tantalus and Mt. Garibaldi and on to Whistler. I’d never been to a big ski resort town and enjoyed strolling through the village full of shops and bars and past an Olympics monument on my way to dinner. The fresh, farm-to-table fare at Alta Bistro was artful and insanely delicious and the service was excellent, both warm and professional.

I drove up to the trailhead early the next morning, further into mountain country and eventually out of cell service range, printed directions in hand. I stopped at a gas station after crossing the railroad tracks in Mt. Currie, with its charming little houses. The sign on the restroom door was in both English and St’at’imc, letting me know I’d officially entered First Nations territory.

At the trailhead, I was greeted by my hosts from Copper Cayuse Outfitters and five fellow guests. Sturdy-looking horses stood tied to a trailer and a couple dogs trotted around, sniffing at our knees. The lead wrangler Jayden, a friendly and capable young woman, explained that our mounts were mustangs first handled at the age of three. She briefly demonstrated how they were accustomed to being ridden, with a long rein which provided no contact with (feel for) the horse’s mouth. Then we were paired with our horses and given the order in which were to ride the trail, single file. I climbed into the saddle on Lonesome, a handsome stout black gelding who perfectly matched my request for a horse who “Likes to go fast. Lively, but not crazy.” While he kept pace perfectly, without needing to be constantly held back or prodded, Lonesome was full of personality. He did whatever I asked, but I had to actively ride him. I couldn’t have been happier!

We rode up through forests and across a river, and stopped to eat our bagged lunch of sandwich, apple, and chocolate chip cookie at a gorgeous overlook. Food never tasted so good!

After a few more hours of riding, we arrived at camp. There we left the horses in the corral and carried our bags from the trailer into our tents, which were spacious and furnished with cots. Our host Don prepared a much-appreciated dinner of chicken, beans, potatoes, and Greek salad, served with a large boule of fresh bread. There was even chocolate mousse for dessert! After the meal, we gathered around the campfire and were entertained with stories from the ranch. And then, best of all, I got to climb into a flannel-lined sleeping bag and have a solid night of sound sleep.