Day 175: Leaving Whistler with a Bang!

After spending six weeks in Whistler, it was time to leave. As I packed, I reflected on my time there and all the things I did:

  • I wrote a lot, oftentimes sitting in a reading nook, peering out the window. A few times, I was able to watch the snow fall.

I settled in, bought groceries and cooked. I even joined a gym while I was there.

  • I watched fall transition to winter, and enjoyed taking in all of the changes during walks in the forest and around town.

I took the bus to town and got to know some locals. I even took advantage of locals’ only discounts!

  • I cleared more than eight inches of snow off my car a few times, drove in the snow, and scraped ice off my gas tank so I could add gas.
  • I met a few guys. Each one helped me learn what I want and don’t want in a relationship.
  • I sat at bars alone, often times listening to live music. Sometimes I felt lonely, but I made myself get out and about anyway.
  • I attended a wine festival and a film festival.
  • I went snowshoeing and snowmobiling.

I did a beer tour tour, a nightclub crawl, and went to a vodka freezer.

  • I went to game nights, pub trivia, and bar bingo.
  • I made several new friends.

I very much enjoyed my time in Whistler and could see myself living there someday. I don’t get that vibe often with places. I don’t know where I’ll end up living, but Whistler is on my list of possibilities.

Before I left Whistler, I wanted to give a letter to Josh, who I had met right after Thanksgiving. When I dropped Josh off after spending 16 hours together, I didn’t know his last name or phone number and I had hoped he would reach out to me. I was 99% sure I’d never hear from him, which made me bummed. I wrote him a letter telling him how I felt because I’m tired of living life afraid – afraid to be me, afraid of rejection, and afraid of being vulnerable. I knew he worked at a fine dining Italian restaurant, but I couldn’t remember which one so I held onto the letter until I could figure it out. Before I left town, I planned on walking into his restaurant, handing him the letter, and walking out.

When I got sushi with my new friend Brittany, she connected me to a Whistler Facebook group. I found Josh on the group and felt relieved that I at least knew his last name and had a way of contacting him. One night at bar bingo, my new friend Saya convinced me to send Josh a message on Facebook. I thought I had seen him at the bar, but the guy disappeared. After a few drinks, I decided it was a good idea.

Of course, my message was lame (what did you expect?) and I said, “Are you around?” This was after not seeing or talking to him for two weeks. I had become accustomed to guys either not responding, responding very late, or responding in a disrespectful way after online dating. I was pleasantly surprised when he wrote back within 15 minutes. We conversed about the weather and how the snow was great. He said now that it was snowing, he was waking up very early every morning to ski. He told me which restaurant he worked at, so I was happy that I could give him my letter.

It was my last day in Whistler and after snowmobiling, I showered, ate dinner, and prepared to leave my Airbnb to surprise Josh with the letter. I was extremely nervous.

“He will probably think I’m a weirdo.”

“What if I become the laughing stock of his friends?”

My friends back home all thought I was crazy. Their response was always the same – if he was interested in you, he would have contacted you. He just wanted to have a fun night and you’ll never hear from him again. That’s how men are. I could hear the tone in their messages as they told me I’m such a hopeless romantic and that this likely would end with a broken heart. I didn’t care.

I knew logically they made sense. It was likely that he never wanted to know me past the night we met. But my instinct kept telling me that he was different. He wasn’t a jerk, he was actually a caring individual. I spent many hours getting to know him, and he didn’t act like other guys. He was tender, he was real, and he had a good heart. I didn’t blame him for not contacting me. It was a strange situation. I was traveling and was only there temporarily. Nobody wants to do long distance, so I didn’t blame him for that. I just needed him to know that I cared and that our time meant something to me, even if that meant I’d be rejected.

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I had a few shots of vodka in preparation for going to the restaurant where he worked. I arrived around 10:20 pm and couldn’t get myself to walk inside. It’s a fine dining restaurant. It’s not like I could just walk in and find him in a sea of people enjoying their fancy meals. I also didn’t want to ask for him because then his coworkers would all wonder what was going on.

I saw a second door that led to a hotel that was connected and went through it. I used the restroom, trying to convince myself that I had the strength and the nerve. People always tell me I’m the bravest person they know – I can assure you that does not apply to the romance department.

Sweating, I managed to get myself into the side door that was by the bar. There was not a single person at the bar, so I asked the bartender if the bar was open. He said it was and got me a menu. The section to my left was crowded with tables full of people enjoying dinner. Behind me, there were lounge tables and some dinner tables, but they were mostly empty.

The bartenders were all from France and were so friendly that it helped to calm my nerves. That, or the vodka was settling in. I ordered a drink and texted my friends. Kristina, who was from Germany, came down within 15 minutes and sat with me at the bar. I slowly turned around, looking to see if I could find Josh. I didn’t know if he was working that night, but it was my last shot.

Kristina and I talked all about her life in Germany. She told me about how she thought Canada would be a lot like the U.K., but she found that is not at all the case. She described German people as being very straight forward, but in Canada, they consider it rude. I told her it’s because Canadians are known for being very nice.

I was enjoying Kristina’s company. At some point, I thought I saw the back of Josh walk by me twice. He was headed the other direction so he only saw my back. I was also trying to cover my face with my hair. I told Kristina about my letter and my dilemma.

At just past 11:00 pm, two servers who were running the bar after the bartenders left said they needed to close out our tabs. I panicked and told Kirstina to stall. We slowly paid and I messaged Josh, asking him to come to the bar. He wasn’t responding and after a few minutes, our bill was closed.

Kristina, being a straight-forward German, asked the servers, “Is Josh here?” The girls looked at each other and one said, “I think he just left.” The other chimed in, “Yeah, he was helping a large party and once they were done, he went home. He just left.” Kristina immediately said, “Can we give you something to give to him?”

Panicked, I said, “No, it’s ok.” The sweet servers enthusiastically said, “Yeah! We can give him something.” Kristina tried to grab the letter from my hand and I tried to shove it back into my purse as I quietly told her, “It’s fine. I’ll message him.” The servers, trying to be helpful, said, “We can tell you his schedule tomorrow.” I assured them it was fine and that I’d message him.

Kristina and I walked outside and met our friends Saya and Misato from Japan, who had just arrived after getting off of work. We brainstormed as to what I should do. I wanted to just run away. Kristina reminded me that I wanted to tell him how I felt and I came there to give him the letter, so I should do it. She told me I could give the letter to her and she’d go back the next day and give it him. I gave her the letter and we all decided to go have a drink at Brickworks bar.

They all thought the idea of writing a letter and giving it to Josh was romantic and they gave an “awe…”. I explained to them what my brother used to say many years ago, “If the person likes you back, they’re flattered. If they don’t like you back, it’s stalking.” I think he’s right. I had no idea if Josh would consider this romantic or consider me a stalker.

As we sat at Brickworks, Josh messaged me back and said he was in bed after skiing and working all day. I told him it was my last night in Whistler and there was something I wanted to give him. He said he would come back out, but he was too exhausted. He asked when I was leaving the following day and said he could meet me to say goodbye.

I was happy that he offered to meet me. I told him once I checked out of my Airbnb, I was going to the holiday market at one of the hotels, and then I needed to head south by around 2:00 pm. He said he’d keep me posted because he would be skiing early in the day and then had to work that evening, but he thought he’d have some time to meet me in the village to say goodbye.

My new friends and I had a great time talking over some wine. I played some classic American songs on the jukebox and we talked about relationships, what it was like in their home countries, and how much fun we’d had together. They are amazing people with warm hearts, and they were so encouraging. I felt lucky to have met them and figured I’d go visit their countries once they were back there. They walked me to the bus station and we hugged goodbye.

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The next day, I checked out of my Airbnb and drove to the winter market at the hotel. Misato met me there and we looked around at the locally made items. It was much smaller than we anticipated, so we walked through the village. Misato hadn’t been in Whistler very long and was working a lot, so she didn’t have a lot of time to shop around yet. It was a great time because we got to know each other better now that it wasn’t in a loud bar or while we were playing a board game.

Josh messaged me at 1:00 pm saying he was about to do his last run and he’d be done by 2:00 pm. Then at 2:00 pm, he was done and asked where to meet me. Misato and I had just finished shopping and were by the Pangea Pod hotel, which is a hostel. They have a nice restaurant on the second floor overlooking the village. We went inside and I told Josh to meet me there.

When we walked inside, Brittany, my friend from the beer tours, was there to get people to sign up for the tours. It was perfect because I hadn’t gotten a chance to say goodbye to her. We talked for a bit and then Misato and I went to the bar to order some coffee while Brittany was at her table with promotional material. I was incredibly nervous and this time didn’t have alcohol to help give me courage.

As I was looking at the menu, Josh tapped me on my left shoulder. I turned around and he had a big smile on his face. I was awkward of course and messed up giving him a hug. He was in his ski gear, took off his jacket, and sat down. I was pleasantly surprised because I wondered if he’d just message me saying he was downstairs and ask me to come outside to give him whatever I had to give him. Or maybe he’d come upstairs, but quickly leave.

I introduced him to Misato and she ordered coffee, talking with the bartender. I was turned towards Josh, talking. We talked about the ski conditions and how amazing the snow had been the last two weeks. Within about ten minutes, Misato had to go to work so she hugged me goodbye. Ten minutes later, Brittany came over and hugged me goodbye because she had to leave.

I continued to talk to Josh over the next hour. I kept thinking he was probably about to leave at any moment. After 40 minutes, the bartender asked if I wanted to order anything (I never ordered my coffee) and I said no because I thought Josh was about to leave. To my surprise, he ordered an espresso.

We continued to talk and I told him about my snowshoeing and snowmobiling experiences. As he told me about skiing, he was enthusiastic and never made me feel awkward. I enjoyed talking with him and it was reassuring that we could still have great conservations, even without any alcohol. It reminded me why I liked him in the first place. He was so easy to talk to and I was attracted to him.

After an hour, Josh said he needed to go because he had to change for work. I told him I needed to get headed south to make it to Mount Vernon, Washington that evening to stay the night with a friend. We put on our coats, walked down the stairs, and went outside. He gave me directions on how to get back to my car and then he gave me a hug.

As we hugged, I reached into my purse to grab the letter. I had printed it at the library and put it in an envelope. I was terrified about how he’d react, but he came out to say goodbye and I was reminded that I like him. I could also run away right after I gave it to him.

At the end of the hug, I pulled the folded envelope out of my purse and said, “Just don’t make fun of me.” Josh looked down, took the letter, and looked up with a huge smile on his face. He immediately gave me another hug. I felt relieved that he didn’t make me feel like a weirdo. We said goodbye and went our separate ways.

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I drove to Washington feeling amazing. I had conquered a tremendous fear. I let myself be vulnerable, even if it meant embarrassing myself. I trusted my instincts and they were right. Josh wasn’t a jerk and he didn’t make me feel like it was a pity goodbye. He seemed happy and being able to see and talk with him again confirmed what I believed about him.

I know I can’t control the future. I can’t make someone like me. I am a hopeless romantic and I desperately want life to be like the great books and movies where big gestures happen and anything is possible. They say that you should “be the change you want to see.” Well, I want to see people letting themselves be vulnerable. I want to see people taking risks in life. I want to see people express themselves to those they care about. So, I decided to start with me. I can’t expect someone else to treat me that way if I’m not willing to do the same.

I knew I probably wouldn’t hear from Josh for at least a few days. I was feeling happy and content that I was able to say goodbye in person and give him the letter.  Now it was in his hands.

Post Edited By: Mandy Strider
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Days 170-174: Snowshoeing and Snowmobiling

There was snow at the top of Whistler Mountain, so they were finally doing snowshoe tours. I love the snow and having lived in Los Angeles for the last 15 years, I was missing it. I met the group of six (and two tour guides) at the office and we started to put on boots that would be good for hooking the snowshoes onto.

The group consisted of  the following:

  • A married couple in their 50s from Victoria, British Columbia. They were celebrating the wife’s birthday, which was that day.
  • A married couple in their 50s from North Vancouver, British Columbia. They were visiting their daughter who lives there.
  • An Aunt and a niece from Australia. They don’t ski (the mom was out skiing), so they signed up for snowshoeing. The aunt said she figured out what she wants to do with her life in her 50s, which is farming and forestry. It’s never too late to discover this!

We boarded the gondola, which took about 20 minutes to reach the top. Kierra, one of the guides, was in my gondola. She appeared to be in her 20s and was from Australia. She told us that she came to Whistler in 2011 and spent some time there, but then went back to Australia. She just returned for the new season and had a work visa.

Kierra commented on how things have changed a lot since she was first in Whistler years ago. Maybe it was because Vail (a U.S. company) bought them out. She said, “Maybe it’s because the U.S. dollar is worth more than the Canadian dollar, but there are a lot more Americans here now.” I thought that was strange considering I had only met two Americans. I told her I had mostly met Australians. She responded, “That’s because we’re the loudest.”

Kierra also told our group that she noticed the party and drug scene was much more prevalent than it was years ago. Like most people working in Whistler, she commented about the housing situation. Kierra described it as large corporations taking advantage of young people who don’t mind sharing rooms. But as people age, they want their own space.

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We arrived at the top of Whistler Mountain and it was a beautiful, clear day with bright blue skies. We put our snowshoes on and started walking towards a reservoir. The mountain range in the distance was magnificent!

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We passed the ski and snowboard runs with care and once past them, we got to walk on fresh snow. It was deep and took effort. As we walked towards the reservoir, the guides told us to be careful not to step on baby trees that might be just below the snow.

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We walked around the reservoir and took some pictures of Blackholm Mountain. Once we walked around it, we climbed up a small hill. The snow and icicles were picturesque. The sun reflected off the snow and provided some warmth.

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Once at the top of the small hill, we slid on our butts down a little patch that some other people had created. It was a lot of fun! We had to walk back uphill to the gondola to return. As we walked, I talked with the other guide, Annabel.

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Annabel is from northern England. She had been in Whistler for one year and had another year to go. Once her visa expired, she planned on going to Japan and Australia. Annabel told me she was an excellent student in high school, but she decided not to apply for University because she wanted to experience and live in other countries. She said, “My teachers were all surprised, but I think I’m gaining more life lessons these last couple of years than if I were at University.” Annabel said her friends that were currently in University were unhappy and it’s a big party scene. She’s not into partying, so she felt it was better she wasn’t around that.

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I understand Annabel’s situation. As a society, we’ve pushed higher education on everyone even though it may not be the best path for everyone. She was learning a lot about different cultures, had to problem solve on her own, and navigate traveling – skills she wouldn’t learn at University.

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Annabel told me that before coming to Whistler, she was an Au Pair for a family in Spain and had a good experience. However, her next Au Pair position was for a family in Greece for six weeks. The parents were highly successful and had two children around seven and ten years old. The entire family was super fit and healthy, and worked out all of the time. When she arrived, the kids showed her their 6-pack abs and asked to see hers, which she declined.

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Annabel was thin and I was shocked as she told me the seven year old gripped her leg one day,pulled out an inch, and said, “If you lose this much, you’ll be great.” When she would be out in public with the kids, they’d laugh at overweight people. Annabel has overweight family members and was offended. When she told the mother she thought the comments were insulting, the mother said they probably got it from her, but she’d talk with the children.

We arrived at the gondola and started to head back down the mountain. Annabel was in my gondola and told us all how the family in Greece asked her to speak with a London accent because they didn’t like her northern English accent. In Whistler, she used to work at the Four Seasons hotel and watched children in the daycare center. The hotel also asked her to speak with a London accent. She’d only been to London once, so she was still working on eliminating words they asked her not to speak and fine-tuning her inflections. I thought it was rude that they asked her to change how she speaks.

Once we finished the tour, we parted ways. I walked over to Merlin’s Bar and Restaurant and ate a burger. It was almost completely empty, except an older guy next to me training his seeing-eye dog. Before I left, skiers started to come inside because it was getting dark. I loved being in the snow and seeing all the skiers made me want to learn how to ski…One day!

I wanted to stay in Whistler a little longer because the snow was finally in the forecast, but my Airbnb wasn’t available. I booked another Airbnb that was just down the road and was in the same building as the gym I had joined. When I checked out of my Airbnb that had been my home for the last five weeks, the owner, Lisa, stopped by to get the key. She also brought me a bottle of wine as a “thank-you” for putting up with all of the construction in the unit above me.

I loaded my car in the rain, frustrated it wasn’t snow. It had snowed a few days earlier, but the rain was now making all of the snow melt. I was able to check-in at my next Airbnb early. It was also a studio apartment, but this one had a loft for the bedroom. It was on the top floor, which provided great views of a nearby river. However, I had to carry my bags up four flights of stairs.

The next day, it was snowing! It was finally snowing hard, with large flakes. I looked out the balcony window and just watched the snow fall while I enjoyed my breakfast and coffee. It was so beautiful and it was exactly what I had been wanting for over a month. I was able to get cozy inside my apartment and write while watching the snow fall.

The following day, I woke up to a message from a friend asking if I wanted to know what the profit sharing was for the company I used to work for. I knew it would be very high because of the new tax breaks. He told me the amount and it was the most the company has ever given out. It was painful realizing that if I had stayed working there for six more months, I would have received that money.

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I decided to go for a walk. It was snowing, but I could still see where the concrete path went through the woods. It was beautiful. Peaceful, clean, and clear. I walked around a lake and to the train tracks. The snow was deep and I loved smashing my boots through it.

I walked back and continued across the highway to Creekside Village. I watched the skiers and snowboarders going up and down the mountain. I went to the gingerbread house and ordered an apple brown-butter latte. I sat there thinking about the money I lost because I quit my job.

Then I thought about how I’d spent the last six months: the things I’ve experienced, the people I’ve met, and the beauty that I’ve seen. I believe you have to be willing to give up “good” to experience “great.” I gave up my job, house, money, status, and comfort to pursue my dreams. I was happy with my decision. Chasing your dreams is hard and making sacrifices for your dream is harder. But I have faith that it will all be worth it in the end.

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That evening, I took the bus to the village and enjoyed some live music at the Fairmont Chateau. It was much busier now that dead-season was over. There was a holiday party for a healthcare company and I briefly talked with a woman from the party who was at the bar waiting for her drink. Seeing the holiday party reminded me of the holiday parties with my old company and I missed some of my friends.

The next day it was finally time for snowmobiling! I had been wanting to do this for weeks, but due to the lack of snow, they weren’t offering tours. Whistler had received 36” of snow in the last 48 hours (and 72” in the last seven days), so it was very deep.

The van took our group of five about 15 minutes out of town and halfway up a mountain. They had snowmobiles and other summer outdoor treetop activities there, which involved climbing and walking across ropes to various trees. The others in my group were a mom and daughter, and a couple who appeared to be in their 30s.

Our tour guide was from Australia and said he came to Whistler six years ago and never left. Back then, he applied for a visa and received it in seven days. As he showed us a 60 second demonstration on how to use the snowmobiles, he casually included, “Because of the deep powdery snow conditions today, at least one of you will flip. Any questions?”

I hadn’t driven a snowmobile since I was about 12 years old. I had a blast with my brother and dad riding through the Colorado mountains, but that was decades ago. Alarmed, I said, “Excuse me, You said we might flip? What exactly do we do if this happens?”

The tour guide said, “Well, keep your feet inside the foot holders or when it flips to the side, you could break your ankle. Also, if the machine starts to go off the mountain, make sure you jump off. But jump backwards so you don’t fall down the mountain. We don’t care if we lose the machine. We only care if we lose you.”

I thought, “Does this guy think I’m Tom Cruise and I can jump through the air backwards off of my machine and let it go crashing down the mountain?”

The couple was riding on one machine and they were right behind the  guide. The mom and daughter drove their own machines and were behind me. We started out immediately climbing on an old fire road on the side of the mountain.

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There were some tours in the morning, so there was some tracks we could follow and put our blades in. Because it had just snowed and not many people had been on the trails, it was extremely powdery and bumpy. The guide told us to make sure we shifted our weight on the machine on bumps and curves or we wouldn’t be able to turn. He was correct and I had to put my weight into it.

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Halfway up the mountain, we lost the mom and daughter and the guide went back to find them. It turned out that the daughter had flipped to the side. He was able to get her back up and continue driving.

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I was ecstatic as we continued to gain elevation! Giant pine trees covered in snow surrounded us. When there was a break in the trees, we could see the beautiful mountain range.

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Once we arrived at the top, we got off our machines to take pictures. As soon as I stepped unto the snow, I sank almost to my knees! The snow didn’t look that deep so it surprised me. We had a blast playing in the deep snow banks on the side and taking in the view.

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The sun was starting to set as we headed back down. I took off my goggles because they were tinted, which made it harder to see. I could see better without them, but it started to snow and it was getting in my eyes.

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We went much faster going down the mountain and it was a blast! We turned on our headlights and raced down. I loved snowmobiling so much and I decided I want to live in the mountains and own a snowmobile.

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Once we finished, we headed back to the village in Whistler. I was happy that I finally was able to enjoy Whistler’s famous deep snow. While November was the warmest, driest month on record, December ended up receiving the most snow in Whistler history. The lesson? Sometimes periods of drought are followed by periods of blizzards.

Post Edited By: Mandy Strider

Days 163-169: Friends in Whistler

I met Brittany during a nightclub crawl and a daytime brewery tour. We agreed to have some sushi over lunch one day. She’s 30, fit, and has long dark hair. When I arrived, Brittany was already sitting at a table so I joined her there. I couldn’t help but notice the green painting on the wall by our table. It was the same painting that Josh (a guy I had meet the week prior) had waited for two weeks to have added to his snowboard and ended up living in Whistler.

Brittany told me about the separation with her husband. They had been together for eight years and married for about three of those years. They had been separated for awhile, but hadn’t gotten around to filing. In Canada, you have to be legally separated for 12 months before you can file for divorce.

Brittany realized they were more friends than romantic partners. She is still friends with her ex, and even invited him and his new girlfriend over for dinner. She said one of the reasons it ended was because he was so into rock climbing that it became an obsession. I understand the feeling of drifting apart and feeling like you’re just friends.

While enjoying some sake and sushi, Brittany and I talked about how neither of us wanted to have kids if our marriage wasn’t strong and in a good place. I told her about the lies that my ex-husband told me over the years and she listened intently saying, “It’s like a Dr. Phil episode!” It was nice having a friend to hang out with. Brittany had to go to work so we parted ways.

A few days later, I saw there was a trivia night at a local pub and I asked Saya if she wanted to go with me. Saya is from Japan, is in her early 30s, snowboards, and was in Whistler for a one-year working visa. I had met her at game night at the library. I was able to snag a table right by the stage. The place was packed with teams.

Saya brought her friend, Boram, who was also from Japan. We had a great time attempting to answer the trivia questions and drinking some beer. There were a few categories and we struggled the most on the music category. We didn’t do very well with our answers, but I used the excuse that it was because none of us were from Canada.

The next night, a local bar was hosting Bingo. I met Saya and her friend Serena there. It was packed and we waited in line in the cold for 30 minutes before we could get inside. We were able to snag a tall table that had a couple of guys getting ready to leave. We missed the first round, but we were able to join in the second round.

A few of Saya’s friends joined us, like Misato. I had met her at game night at the library as well. She’s in her late 20s, from Japan, and was also there for a one-year work visa. I talked with her about dating apps because we had both tried Tinder. We agreed it was fun, but often times frustrating. We drank wine and had a great time hoping we’d win something. The girls even made some amazing origami out of old score cards!

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There was another game night a week later at the library, so I went there again. This would be the third and final game night I’d be able to attend before leaving Whistler. This time, I was playing with Saya, Misato, Kristina, and a new girl, Lucy.

At 6’5”, Lucy was very tall, had blonde hair, and was in her early 30s. She had visited Canada 10 years prior and loved it. This time, she had a two-year work visa. However, she said she was missing her boyfriend in France and didn’t want to stay for two years. Kristina was not happy about this and said, “It’s not fair. We can only get one year visas and you get a two a year visa and don’t even use it.”

The five of us played a train game called Ticket to Ride. We were all learning so it was slow going at first. I thought I was doing pretty well, but once it ended and we calculated points, I was not even close to winning.

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On another night, I wanted to go to Bingo night at Tapley’s bar. It would be the last one I could attend because I would be leaving in a few days. Saya and Misato met me at the entrance and we only had to wait a few minutes before we got inside. However, once we got inside, it was packed! We looked around for a table or any spot where could share a table.

As we searched around, a guy said we could use his table. He had offered it to two other guys as well and they scooted over to make room for us. The tall, rectangular table had a few bar stools and there was a ledge where two people could sit on one side of the table. Misato and Saya sat there and I stood at the corner.

The guy, Trevor, who originally offered the table to us was on the opposite side of the table and called me over. He was very tall, had an average build, had brown hair, and was 37. I was not physically attracted to him. He asked me my name and then gestured towards Misato and Saya saying, “Are you their tour guide?” Offended, I said, “Excuse me? They’re my friends.” I already didn’t like this arrogant guy who thought he owned the place, but I needed the table.

We got score cards and talked with the two other guys. They were from Vancouver, but were in Whistler for work. They were friendly to talk with and were respectful. Trevor on the other hand, was a jerk. He kept putting his arm on my back and then would slowly run it across my butt. He gave me one of the other guy’s bar stool and made that guy stand. I figured maybe the touching would be better if I was sitting down.

I was wrong – he started to rub my leg, going up my thigh. Multiple times, I pushed his hand away, made a face, and started turning my body against him. I could only turn so far and he continued to touch me on my back and leg. At one point after I moved his hand off of my leg, he asked, “Is it ok that I’m touching your leg?” I replied, “No,” but it didn’t stop him.

Over the next hour and a half, Trevor told me that he’s from Whistler and works in drywall for multimillion dollar homes. One of the guys at our table won a game and got a free pitcher of beer for our table. The place was loud and busy, and our table was close to a register with a server station. Trevor knew all of the servers and kept calling them over for different things. He was making it clear he was an important, well-connected person. Then Trevor casually mentioned that he can’t leave Canada. I asked why and he quickly said, “I was sent to prison after tying some people up in their home.”

Trevor called a waitress over and ordered some drinks as if nothing had happened. Once the server left, I said, “I’m sorry, what did you say? You tied people up?” He told the story, “Well, I was 19-years old and me and my buddy were breaking into houses in Whistler to steal stuff. When we got into one house, we saw there was a husband and a wife and we didn’t know they were home. So we tied them up. You know, what else are you going to do? Well, it turns out that they had set off their alarm and the cops caught us. I spent four years in prison and now I’m not allowed to leave Canada.”

I stared at Trevor in disbelief and disgust at his casual telling of the story. I said, “You broke into their home and tied them up?” He responded, “Yeah, whatever, I was only 19. I’m very successful now.” He went on to describe how his mother is wealthy and owns a lot of hotels in the area, but he assured me he doesn’t take her money and earns his own.

Trevor won bingo and got a ski hat that said “Whis Life” on it. He immediately gave it to me and I like hats, so I put it on. He said, “Wow, you were pretty before, but you’re even prettier with that hat on.” I cringed. Misato and Saya couldn’t hear a lot of what Trevor was saying and they were talking with the other two guys. But they could tell by my body language that I was not enjoying him. At one point when Trevor left the table, I leaned over to Saya and told her he was a creep. She agreed.

For 20 minutes, Trevor kept saying he was going to leave and go to some exclusive place. He wanted me to go with him and I kept telling him no, I was staying with my friends. He made me put his phone number in my phone and send him a text message. He said I’d have to text him so I could get inside, otherwise the line would be too long. To get rid of him, I kept telling him I’d meet up with him after bingo. He kept pressing me to leave right then and then he said he thought we should just have sex. I declined his offer and kept trying to focus on Bingo.

I kept pushing him away from me and wondered why he wasn’t picking up on my very obvious body language that I was not interested. I also wondered why I was putting up with it and not just telling him off. It’s strange. Even in the moment, I thought, “Why don’t I walk away from this guy?” But I needed his table because there was nowhere else to go. He also knew all of the servers there. He was tall, domineering, and aggressive. It’s astonishing how much power a man can hold over a woman, treat her poorly, and get away with it. But no matter what I did or said, he wouldn’t stop touching me.

Finally, Trevor left. Shortly after, the other two guys left. After the last game, Misato went home because her throat was hurting. Saya and I decided to walk to Brickworks so we could actually hear each other talk.

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We talked about relationships and she told me about her ex-boyfriend who she hiked with in New Zealand. He was Australian and they looked like a really cute couple. But they fought a lot and it didn’t work out. I could tell that she was still hurt by the breakup and I completely understood. She’s a snowboarder and an active, adventurous person. It’s hard to find someone who sets your heart on fire and who has similar interests.

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Saya and I had more drinks and had a really fun time. Then I walked through the village with her until I had to take a different path to the bus stop, and we hugged goodbye. The friends I had made in Whistler were genuine, adventurous, friendly, and open. I think Whistler attracts a certain type and I felt like “my people” were there. They had left their home country or home city to explore the world on their own. I have a lot of respect for them and felt profoundly grateful for their friendship.

Post Edited By: Mandy Strider
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Days 155-162: Whistler Film Festival

After not getting much sleep the night before, I took a nap and then talked with my best friend, Misty, on the phone. I looked out the window as we talked and could see that snow was falling! I had been waiting for this day for nearly a month.

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The next day I walked to the gym and worked out. The walk was always beautiful, but it was definitely colder outside.

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It was Monday night and time for another free game night at the library. I arrived and saw my two new friends from Japan who I had met at game night two weeks prior. There was another girl from Japan, a guy from Germany, and a girl from Germany who joined us.

We decided to play Monopoly since the girls from Japan had never played before. The girl and guy from Germany had played before, but not a lot. I grew up loving that game, so I was pumped to teach new people how to play.

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Kristina was from Germany and helped me teach the others. Saya, Misato, and Serena from Japan were quick learners. Kristina was in Whistler with a one-year working visa. She was working at a hotel in housekeeping. Misato and Saya were also there for a one-year working visa. We didn’t get a chance to talk too much because we had to play the game.

We were only allowed two hours and by the time we started to play, we had an hour and a half. After an hour, I realized all of the properties were sold, but not many people had a set. They couldn’t buy a house or a hotel, so each time someone landed, it was only $15 for rent. I told the group they needed to start trading, negotiating, and making big moves because we only had 20 minutes left to play. The game can take many hours, so I helped facilitate trades to move it along. Even though we were allowed to stay a little later, we had to quit playing before someone actually won.

We finished around 9:30 pm and I walked over to Brickworks, a pub, to get a drink and some food. When I sat down at the bar, the Irish bartender asked me if I wanted the same beer that I had two nights before when I was there with Josh. I thought it was awesome that he remembered me and my drink – I was definitely feeling like a local.

I spent the next few days writing, working out, and living in my little studio. On the city’s website, I saw that the Whistler Film Festival was in town. I bought a ticket to a few showings and was looking forward to watching some new movies.

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My first showing was on day 160 at 9:00 pm. The movie was called Stockholm and featured Ethan Hawk. The only other film festival I’ve attended was Sundance in Park City, Utah, several years ago. I saw the movie Boyhood, which also features Ethan Hawk. The movie was great! It is about how the phrase “Stockholm syndrome” came about when an American robbed a bank in Stockholm and held hostages. The movie was well done and entertaining. Once it ended, the director was there to answer questions from the audience.

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The next evening, at 9:30 pm, I took the bus to the village and walked around. The funny thing about Whistler is that it seems most people are in their 20s-30s, but there are hardly any children around. It often feels like living in an international college town full of snowboarders and skiers who love to party. I ended up at Blacks to listen to some live music. I sat alone at a tall cocktail table and enjoyed the one-man band.

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The next morning, I had my next movie showing: Untogether. The movie is about relationships and was ok. The Executive Director was there and talked about how dramas don’t make a lot of money at the box office, so they need people to support them at festivals.

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I walked over to Portobello’s for lunch. At the register, the girl told me that she also saw the movie Stockholm. She said her boyfriend was bummed that they didn’t have cocktails and she didn’t know it was based on a true story until I told her. Clearly she didn’t stay for the Q & A.

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I walked around the Fairmont Chateau and then down the street to the Four Seasons Hotel because they had a Festival of Trees. Outside, frost covered the ground. Each blade of grass and fallen leaf was covered in crystals. It was a cold walk over there and my nose started to run.

Inside, there were several Christmas trees beautifully decorated in the lobby. Downstairs, there was a tree-decorating competition, which included a tree surrounded by hockey sticks and an upside-down tree.

In the afternoon, I headed to another theater that was playing An Audience of Chairs, a film about a woman struggling with mental illness. The movie was very well done and I couldn’t help but cry throughout it. I was embarrassed when they turned on the lights for the Q & A with the director. However, the entire theater was full of tear-streaked faces and sniffling noses.

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I walked around the village afterward and it was now dark outside. I was thankful for the darkness so my puffy eyes could be concealed. As I walked back towards my car, I saw a sign for a showing of The Radicals. Tickets were still available so I bought one and stood in line.

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The documentary touted itself as “environmentalism meets action sports,” so I thought it would be interesting. It was made by some locals in Whistler and I sat next to the director in the packed theater. The documentary was just ok. The problem with it is that they had two themes going on: the beautiful shots of snowboarders flying down the mountain in the powdered snow; and the activists fighting against the salmon farms and BC hydro for limiting water in native villages. I understand they were trying to connect it because some snowboarders have become activists, but I felt like the movie should have focused on one of the topics.

After the movie, they had around eight to ten people at the front to answer any questions. Most of them were the native tribe leaders who were interviewed in the film. Unfortunately, nobody was doing a good job of moderating and a couple of people told extremely long-winded stories, often repeating themselves. It took about an hour to get through the stories and monotoned pleas for activism. I wanted to get up and leave, but I’d have to walk in front of everyone, so I just sat there.

Overall, the film festival was great and I had a chance to support independent artists and their films. If you’re ever near a film festival, I encourage you to buy single tickets and see the films you’re interested in seeing. It’s a great way to help ensure the production of movies other than big box-office hits.

Post Edited By: Mandy Strider
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Day 154: A Night to Remember

It was the Saturday after U.S. Thanksgiving and the insanely loud noise from the flooring construction in the unit above started promptly at 9:00 am. I went to bed late and didn’t want to leave the warmth and coziness of the blankets. I fell in and out of sleep over the next few hours, having crazy dreams.

Around 4:30 pm, I took the bus to the holiday market at the conference center. It was so much fun listening to Christmas carols, buying some locally made items and food, and settling in to the Christmas spirit.

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After spending a couple of hours there, I walked around the village and perused a bookstore. I needed to use the restroom so I popped into a hotel. When I came out, I saw the Whistler nightclub crawl was getting ready to start in the lounge area. The leaders, Brittany and JD, were training a new girl and getting all of the name tags ready. They had 90 people attending the crawl that night – Yikes!

It was good chatting with them for a bit and Brittany and I agreed to get sushi sometime. She recommended that I get a cocktail at 21 Steps Kitchen and Bar. I trusted her recommendation, so I walked over to the restaurant/bar. It was around 7:45 pm and people were waiting for tables at the higher-end restaurant. I was seated at the bar and there was only one other seat available, which was to my left.

I ordered a drink and then a salad. I was fascinated by the bartender’s ability to make specialty cocktails, wines, and beers at light speed. I was close to the end of the bar, so I watched as he zipped through cocktail after cocktail, lining them up for the servers to take to tables.

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I felt a little bummed as I looked around at the tables filling up with couples and groups of friends. The bar sat about eight to ten people and I was the only one sitting next to an empty chair.

As I was halfway through my salad, a guy took off his coat and sat next to me at the bar. I couldn’t see him very well since he was directly next to me in my peripheral vision, but he appeared to be young and was wearing a baseball hat. He ordered a beer and I thought, “Are you even old enough to drink?”

He knew the bartender and the manager, and they chatted about the ski conditions. I finished my salad and the bartender asked me if I wanted to order dinner. I said, “That was my dinner.” I ordered another cocktail as the guy next to me ordered appetizers. Through the bar, I could see the cooks motioning to the guy next to me. Finally, one of the cooks came to the bar and they chatted for a bit about mountain biking. I figured this guy must be older than I thought since he knows all of these employees who appear to be in their 30s. I overheard them say his name: Josh.

As Josh was eating his first appetizer, I turned towards him and asked, “How do you know all of these people?” He told me he’s from Australia, but he’s been in Whistler for eight years. When Josh came to Whistler on a work visa, he first managed a bar because that was his experience in Australia. However, he quickly realized he could make more money by being a server so he stepped down. During his time in Whistler, he’s worked at several different restaurants and has worked with these guys at various places. He was currently working at a fine-dining Italian restaurant.

Surprised to hear that Josh had been in Whistler for eight years, I figured he must be in his late 20s. We continued to talk and I told him I was staying in Whistler for a month writing. I turned towards him a bit so I could see him better as he ate his appetizers. His blonde hair stuck out from the bottom and sides of his baseball hat. He had blue eyes, no facial hair, was thin, and appeared to be around 5’9”-5’10”. On his left arm, I could see a tattoo sticking out from the slightly rolled up sleeve on his checkered button-up shirt. He was cute.

After I told Josh about writing my book and blogging about driving to Alaska, he told me he wants to ski all 50 mountain peaks that are in the western US and Canada, all in one winter. He asked me how he’d go about doing that – could he write or blog about it? I told him about my blog and Instagram.

Josh finished eating and we both kept ordering drinks – although he switched from beer to a gin and tonic. We both turned towards each other as we talked. Josh has traveled to more than 35 countries, including the western US, Europe, Africa, and the Middle East. His favorite city was Portland until he went to Amsterdam.

Josh told me that in 2010, he was heading to Banff from Vancouver and he drove through Whistler. He saw a snowboard for sale that had a design from his favorite artist, who was from Whistler. When he tried to purchase it, he was told it would take two weeks to make. While he waited, he found a job and a place to live and has been there ever since.

Josh spends his time skiing, snowboarding, working, and recently got into mountain biking. He described Whistler as getting busier in the shoulder seasons, but he’s still able to take off about four months a year to travel. When he hit 31, his work visa expired and he applied for permanent residency. He is now 33 years old and a permanent resident.

Josh and I had a similar sense of humor and view on life. I was happy to have the company so I kept ordering drinks. The cook came over and asked Josh if he wanted a dessert and Josh chose the cheesecake. He told me, “You’re going to have to help me eat that.” When the cheesecake arrived with one spoon, Josh quickly asked them for another spoon. We shared dessert and it was starting to feel like I was on a date. I am drawn to free spirits who have opinions about the world and there was never a lull in our conversation. Customers had to pass by the bar on their way in and out of the restaurant and as it emptied out, I didn’t even notice. That’s when I knew I was starting to like this guy. The rest of the world seemed to disappeared.

Josh and I talked about border crossings and how he is afraid going into the US and I get afraid going into Canada. He told me how he drove to Alaska, almost to Fairbanks, and stayed with a friend in Anchorage for a month. On his way back down south, he stopped in Dawson City and told me how the town is like an old west town with saloons. He drank the famous drink they serve with a toe inside the glass. Your mouth has to touch the toe, which is disgusting. I had heard about that place on my travels to Alaska so it felt good to talk to someone who knew about it as well.

After the two guys next to Josh left, a single guy sat down. At one point, he interrupted so he could comment and said, “Sorry, I’ve been eavesdropping.” It turned out Josh knew him too.

At 11:15 pm, they asked if we wanted one more drink since they were closing at 11:30 pm. Josh told his friend, the cook, “If I have another one, I won’t be able to go mountain biking tomorrow.” I was happy when he ordered another drink, so I did too. At 11:45 pm, we were almost the last people there and they were closing up. We walked out together and he made a comment about going to Brickworks, a bar. The guy who had been eavesdropping was with us too, so as I walked with them, I asked, “Is it ok that I’m coming too?” Josh replied, “Yes, of course.” Then he shook my hand and said, “I’m Josh by the way.” We laughed as I introduced myself as well, realizing we hadn’t technically gotten eachother’s names.

We arrived at Brickworks and it wasn’t very crowded. After taking bathroom breaks, we sat at the bar with Josh to my right. The other guy was down the bar a bit. The bartender let me sample a couple of beers and I picked one. As I was talking to the bartender, Josh was talking to the guy on his right. Of course, he used to work with that guy too.

After two beers, the bar was closing at 1:00 am. All of a sudden, it got super quiet and we noticed everyone was gone. The bartender needed to close out our tabs and asked, “Together or separate?” I quickly replied, “Separate” because I didn’t want Josh to feel obligated to pay for my drinks. Josh and I walked outside and he immediately set out to another place that was open until 2:00 am. He said it was the only bar open that late; all the others that are open until 2:00 am were underground clubs because of noise ordinances. The last bar was packed. We could barely squeeze our way inside. Once again, Josh knew someone as we were walking into the main section. He introduced me as his “friend, Christy.”

Josh asked what I wanted to drink and I said a beer, so he fought the crowd and brought back two beers. We stood in the middle of the packed bar talking. Now that we were standing while talking to each other, I realized he was a few inches shorter than me. That always makes me nervous because some guys feel uncomfortable with taller women. But being 6’1”, this happens to me most of the time. I’ve only dated one guy who was taller than me – he was an inch taller. The rest have been one to five inches shorter than me.

It was loud inside the bar so we had to stand close to each other to hear, which made the height discrepancy more apparent. The nice thing was that he didn’t seem bothered by it at all. He was also thinner than me. Sometimes that makes me self-conscious, even though I prefer thinner guys over larger guys. He didn’t seem bothered by the weight difference either. It made me feel accepted. He didn’t even seem to notice, and we were able to just focus on our conversation and who we are as people.

It was now 2:15 am and the bar was closing. We laughed that we closed out three different places. On the way out, I told him I was going to use the restroom and he said, “I’ll wait for you outside.” When I got outside, he said, “I’d invite you back to my place, but I just ran out of vodka.” I said, “Well, I have vodka sodas at my place and you’re welcome to come over.”

We took a taxi to where I was staying. I showed him around my little studio, got us vodka sodas, and we sat on the reading nook by the window. I turned on my favorite pandora station and we bonded over music. He told “dad jokes” and made me laugh.

For the next three hours, we talked about politics, gun control, movies, and adventures. At one point, Josh got so passionate about politics, he jumped up and was standing, sort of shouting. I just laughed because I was enjoying how passionate he was about it. Even though we didn’t see eye-to-eye on many things, I knew his heart was in a good place and he really cared about people.

My ex-husband had no opinions about anything, which drove me insane. I tried and tried to get his opinion on topics and he’d always say, “Well, you’re right.” It was maddening not being able to have a good discussion with my partner for a decade. I’ve realized that I need to be with someone who is passionate and has opinions, even if I disagree with them. As long as that person can have a considerate, respectful conversation, I’m down. It’s an absolute must for me in a relationship. I lose interest in someone who doesn’t have anything to say.

Josh realized he was getting too animated and upset when he was standing and yelling about politics. He paused and said, “I’m sorry. I know I need to work on being calmer when talking about these things.” He sat back down and we continued talking about other topics.

At 5:30 am, our conversation came to an end for the first time in nine hours. We looked at each other and laughed. He said, “Can we stop talking about politics and makeout?” I laughed, “Yeah.”

Josh kissed me with just the right amount of assertiveness. He was gentle and sweet, which made me feel comfortable. We made out and I laid on Josh’s shoulder as we talked more about his family and life in Australia. He kissed my forehead and his embrace was something I hadn’t felt in a very long time.

I knew our time would end soon and as he fell asleep, I laid there thinking about how wonderful the night had been. My recent experiences on dating apps had been making me very depressed. The guys put in zero effort. One guy kept wanting to “come over and say hello.” When I kept suggesting we go meet for a drink first, he’d end up being too tired to go out. We messaged for two weeks and never met up. He’d say he was going to get dinner and would let me know how he was feeling afterwards. I wondered why he couldn’t have just invited me to dinner…

I know sometimes my expectations are too high. I am an idealist and a hopeful romantic. The previous year attempting to date hadn’t gone well and I was really starting to believe I’d be alone forever. I’m too weird – there’s nobody who would like me for me and be willing to put in the effort. A few days before I met Josh, I figured I’d give up on meeting people online because it always just ended in hurt feelings and feeling disrespected. I hadn’t cancelled my subscriptions though because I was afraid that I simply wouldn’t meet someone in real life. All of the good guys are in relationships. Those left are often narcissistic jerks who only want to hook-up or are super lazy.

As I laid there, I knew that this probably wouldn’t last. I was only going to be in Whistler for two more weeks. He likely didn’t want a long-distance relationship and maybe this is all it would ever be. But as hard as I try not to care about someone, my feelings always get involved. I’m either not interested in someone at all or I fall for them. And when I fall, I fall hard.

I tried to focus on how I was feeling in that moment. I wanted to remember it, to cherish it. The way he looked at me. The feeling that someone cared enough about me that he spent over twelve hours talking with me, laughing with me, debating with me, kissing me, and holding me. I didn’t want it to end.

We ended up falling asleep as the sun was making its way through the blinds. An hour and a half later, the construction started on the unit above, disturbing our sleep. At 12:30 pm, Josh woke up and wasn’t sure if he worked at 3:00 pm or 5:00 pm that day. I took him home so he wouldn’t have to take the bus.

I dropped him off at a place near his house so he could get a coffee. As soon as I stopped the car, he opened the door to get out saying, “Have a nice rest of your trip.” He was out of the car too fast. I said, “Do you want my number at all? To maybe hang out again?” He said, “Well, that was my night off for the week, but sure.” He took my number and said goodbye.

I drove away feeling sad. I didn’t even know his last name or phone number. I had no way of getting ahold of him. I would have to sit and hope he messaged me, which I knew was very unlikely. I was angry with myself that I didn’t ask for his number, felt hurt that he didn’t ask for mine, and felt regretful that I didn’t tell him how I felt. I was also confused. He didn’t act like the guy who just wanted to make out. He acted like he cared. I knew his response would likely be, “You don’t live here.” But I still wished for the ending in all of the romantic comedies – the unexpected, the big gestures, and the “anything is possible” attitude. It was an unbelievable night and in the end, I fell for him. 

Post Edited By: Mandy Strider
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Days 152-153: Thanksgiving For One

Day 152 was American Thanksgiving. While Canada had their Thanksgiving the month prior, the ski resorts still recognize the day because it’s the official start of ski season. American tourists will often go to Whistler over the long weekend. This year, there wasn’t any snow. It hadn’t snowed at all the entire month, so the resort was making snow at the top so some of the runs could be opened. People could ski on the top half, but they couldn’t ski to the bottom.

I don’t ski or snowboard, but I wanted to enjoy the snow because I think it’s beautiful. I also wanted to go snowmobiling. On Thanksgiving, I walked to the gym and got a workout in. Afterwards, I FaceTimed with my family in Missouri so I could say hello and see all of the delicious food they were eating.

After showering, I decided to go to my favorite restaurant to eat a Thanksgiving meal. Portobello is attached to the Fairmont Chateau at the base of Blackholm mountain. I ordered the chicken mushroom pie and a dessert. It was just as delicious as when I ate it back in September. The place was mostly empty, as was that whole section of the village. Blackholm didn’t have the gondola operating. It was only operating at Whistler mountain across the way.

I walked around the Fairmont Hotel, which was decorated beautifully for Christmas. There is something special about luxury hotels. I just love them. I love the details that people put into making a magical atmosphere. I wandered the halls, wishing I could live there.

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Outside, the trees were laden with lights, adding to the festive experience. It started to drizzle and I regretted not having my umbrella. I walked the Village Stroll over to the main part of the village. Because it was Thanksgiving, I didn’t just want to sit around at home. I saw a sign for a Vodka Ice Bar. It was inside of a hotel, so I went to the front to ask about it.

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They keep this small freezer room at -22 F (-30 C) full of vodka. You can do an expensive tour and it includes four shots of vodka in 20 minutes. You aren’t allowed to stay longer due to the cold. I signed up for the tour, but there wasn’t a group to go yet so I ordered a drink and some oysters at the bar. It was around 5:30 pm and it was mostly empty.

To my left was a couple from Seattle and to my right was a couple from Portland. Both couples were there for the long weekend to ski and were pretty bummed about the conditions. They were the first Americans I had met the entire month in Whistler.

I talked with the couple to my right about my travels and they said they were jealous that I was living the dream. The girl’s name was also Christy and she was only two years older than me. They were fun to talk with and they signed up for the next tour as well. After talking for about 15 minutes, we were called to put on large, thick coats to tour the vodka room. The bartender was helpful and put my oysters in the fridge for me.

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There were 11 of us on the tour. When we stood up to put on our heavy coats, the guy from Portland said, “Wow, I didn’t realize you were so tall.” I get that a lot when people meet me when I’m sitting down.

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The vodka room was so cold! The coat helped a lot but my fingers were freezing! I had to have one hand out to hold my little shot glass so I kept rotating hands, giving one a chance to warm up in my pocket. The tour guide talked with us about vodka for about five minutes and then let us sample four kinds.

I talked with a couple who were in their late 40s to early 50s and they volunteered to take my picture. That was super nice because daring to take your hand out of the pocket was a painful experience. Supposedly the vodka tastes much better being that cold. It was good, but I was too focused on being freezing. Plus, having four shots in 15 minutes is a lot.

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As we were all taking off our coats, the couples said they were leaving because they only came to the bar for the vodka room. We said goodbye and maybe we’d see each other again. They didn’t want to tell people we met at the vodka room though, so they said, “We’ll just say we met at the library.” Wink wink.

I went back to the bar and the bartender promptly got my oysters back out and I ordered another drink. There was a tall German guy sitting next to me so we chatted for a bit. He was there for work. His job is to figure out the best tour for millionaires to drive their three million dollar cars from Vancouver to Alberta. They were considering making a stop in Whistler. He was waiting to meet with the operators to see what Whistler could offer them – maybe helicopter rides?

Man, being a millionaire is a crazy life. This guy was friendly enough, but he was pretentious. His co-worker met him at the bar, and then they met up with another couple at the bar, the operators. I almost got included in their meeting, until we basically had to explain I was just talking to him at the bar and I didn’t actually know him. They all went off to look at the cellar to see the finest wines available.

I looked around and noticed it was now packed. Dead-season was officially over. There was live piano music and it was a lovely place to be. Once I finished my oysters, I walked around the village now that the shops were finally open past 6:00 pm.

After checking out some shops, I went into Tapley’s. It’s a bar that has live music, skeeball, and darts. I sat at the bar and listened to the bartenders talk about the sudden influx of the American tourists – the start of the season.

“We’re running out of glasses. They’re all ordering martinis.”

“That’s how you know the Americans are in town.”

The next day, I woke up to snow flurries! I was ecstatic that it was finally snowing! Unfortunately, it only lasted for about 15 minutes and didn’t stick.

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I had ordered some boots and a winter coat from a store called Long Tall Sally. They closed their U.S. stores and only have physical stores in Canada. The closest one to me was in Vancouver, so I ordered online and had them shipped to my Airbnb. In the U.S., I would order from them and receive my package within a few days. I was confused when it took two weeks to be delivered. Then I found out the Canadian Post Office was on a strike.

Thankfully, I received them just in time for the snow. The boots were cute, but they were a little tight. I wear size 12, and most stores don’t carry my size, so I would have to make them  work.

As I was getting ready to walk to Creekside Village to test out my new boots and coat, I received a knock on the door.

“Hi, I just wanted to let you know that we’re going to be doing some construction in the unit above you for the next three days from 9:00 am to 5:00 pm. I know you’re going to be in the unit a lot, I already notified the owner of your unit.”

“Yeah, that’s a bummer considering I’m trying to get a lot of writing done.”

“Well, according to the bylaws, we can work from 8:00 am to 8:00 pm, but we’re not working that long. The first two days will be the loudest because we’re redoing the floors. Maybe you could go work at the Starbucks down the street.”

Great. Within 15 minutes, the noise was so loud that my cousin couldn’t hear me on the phone. I talked with the owner and described how loud the noise was. She wasn’t confident it would only be three days because after the floors, they were redoing the cabinets. We had already agreed that I’d stay an extra 10 days, so she agreed to give me the extra days at a discount.

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I walked down to Creekside Village and walked around. Two snowboarders stopped me on the corner asking where the bus station was. I directed them and said it’s $2.50 one way. They said they’d probably just hitchhike instead, but they headed towards the bus station. I felt like a local – people asked me for directions!

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The snow had stopped, but it was still pretty and festive outside. The gondola was running even though it was mostly empty. I walked over to a gingerbread house that was serving speciality-made ice cream cones with cotton candy around it.

On my way back, I stopped at Creekbread Pizza. They make wood fire pizza and had great reviews online. I sat at the bar and ordered two different pizzas split in half so I could try two different kinds. It was delicious and provided left-overs for the following day.

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It was nice having a fun two days. In the U.S., Black Friday shopping has gotten out of control. Instead of shopping for the latest deal, I was just living life, talking with people and having experiences. I’ll take that any day over a discounted flat-screen TV.

Post Edited By: Mandy Strider
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Days 145-151: Dating in Whistler

As hard as I try to stay busy, I still get lonely. I was on Tinder and from time to time would match with someone. I almost never message first because I don’t want to get stuck in another relationship where I’m the one doing all of the initiating. During the first few weeks in Whistler, I didn’t have much luck with men.

Keven

I matched with Keven shortly after I arrived in Whistler. He was engaging in his messages and his pictures made him out to be quite a character. He looked like a free spirit who enjoyed festivals and he had a nice smile. He was 30 years old and had black curly hair that was just past his shoulders. He was originally from Portugal, but grew up in Toronto.

He was living in a bus in Squamish and one night he said he’d love to come over and tell me about his stories and bus life. I figured why not? so I let him come over. It was late at night and I told him if he wasn’t who he said he was, I wouldn’t let him in the condo complex. It was a glass door, so I could verify.

Keven was standing outside of the glass door in a black hoodie (with the hood up) and black jeans, which made him look mysterious. He appeared to be who he said he was, so I allowed him inside. He gave me a hug and we sat down to talk.

Keven told me that when he was 20 years old, he moved to Mexico, near Playa Del Carmen. He went with his brother who was six years older than him. They bought an old van and converted it to a home. To make money over the next year, they played music on a jug to American tourists and made a lot of money. In an attempt to get him back to canada, his parents paid for him to go to Cuba with them. He decided he liked having running water again, so he moved north.

Keven bought a small school bus in Oregon and converted it so he could live inside. When marijuana was illegal, he worked in the fields in northern California picking it. He made $20,000 in six to eight weeks, working 12 hour days. He lived off of the money for the rest of the year. He said, “Now that it’s legal, you can only make about half of that.”

Growing up without a lot of money, Keven’s parents always told him not to pay rent. He took that literally and lived in the bus for seven years. Three years ago, he moved to Squamish and actually rented a house with some friends for two of those years, but had recently moved back into his bus. Keven described the bus as having an outdoor shower, a wood stove, and a full kitchen. He had everything he needed. For work, he did housing construction with his brother.

Keven was interesting, but not as interesting as he was trying to be. After just over an hour talking, Keven kissed me and we briefly made out. I didn’t enjoy it because there wasn’t chemistry and I wasn’t that attracted to him. I sort of pulled away at one point and when he left, he hugged me and kissed my cheek. I didn’t mean to, but I flinched and pulled away when he went in for the kiss. He left saying, “I’ll call you. You can come see my bus.” I sort of wanted to see his bus, so I said sure.

A couple of days later, he unmatched with me on Tinder. It was fine because I didn’t really like him anyway. But it still hurt. There’s a feeling of rejection when someone just unmatches and disappears forever. It hurt my feelings. Keven made me realize that I can’t just casually make out with a guy. I tried, but if I’m not interested in the whole package, I can’t be attracted physically.

Andrew

Andrew and I matched about two weeks after I arrived in Whistler. He was 34, very tall (6’6”), muscular, and had shoulder-length blonde wavy hair. Andrew was a firefighter and a paramedic. He grew up in Ontario, but has lived on and off in Whistler since 2003.

When Andrew first messaged me, I was at the Cornucopia that was going on at the conference center. The large conference room had a lot of booths with vendors sampling their wines. There were also some appetizers. When I arrived, I noticed groups of friends dressed for a nice night out as they tried different wines and beers. I felt awkward being there alone and drank my samples way too fast. I felt a little less alone when Andrew messaged me.

Afterwards, I went to a bar and continued to message him. He said he had a long work day and had work early the next morning, so couldn’t meet me that night. But, he could hang out the next evening. We continued to message, getting to know each other.

This trend would continue over and over with Andrew. He’d message saying he just got home from work at 7:00 pm and needed to work out and get dinner and he’d see how he felt later. Then later would come and he’d be too tired to meet me for a drink. He’d always mentioned he “could come over” though. After the Keven incident, I did not want someone coming over again.

I was feeling rejected one night when we were supposed to meet up, but he bailed yet again. I had done my hair and makeup so I went out drinking alone. He messaged me saying he wasn’t trying to reject me, but he was just tired. I never understood why he didn’t just ask me to dinner, instead of always saying he’d see how he felt after dinner. I realized he just wanted to come over and hook up and I wasn’t going to do that. So, I kept insisting he meet me in public. Andrew told me he’d take me for a walk on his next day off, which was in a couple of days.

The day came and Andrew said he was on-call, so he couldn’t go for a walk. He did offer to come over, however, as long as he was close to his car because he “might need to run out at a moments notice.” I declined his offer and felt very frustrated. He left for Hawaii for two weeks shortly after, and wouldn’t return until I was supposed to leave. I ended up staying in Whistler for longer than I originally planned, but I didn’t bother telling Andrew I’d still be around when he got back. I was tired of the games and it was pretty clear that he was only interested in one thing.

Adam

I matched with Adam in September when I first went to Whistler and I met him twice after his band was finished playing some shows. We had continued to message every now and then. When I got back to Whistler on November 1st, he was in Florida with his parents for a few weeks. In mid-November, he returned and we matched again, but this time on Bumble. For the next few days, we texted and he’d often be flirtatious.

After a few days, I was impatient and asked him when he was going to ask me out. He responded a day later saying he wasn’t into “dating” because he had a few bad relationships. He assured me that he adored our talks though. I was very disappointed. All I wanted was to meet up with him. I guess asking “when are you going to ask me out?” was too much. Perhaps if I had just said he could come over, that would have worked.

A few days later, we messaged again for a bit as friends. Then a week after that, I was walking through the village and saw a sign that mentioned his band was playing that night. I went inside and sat at the bar and ordered a beer. It was crowded, especially with the groupies at the stage dancing. I was surprised when he saw me right away and as he kept singing, he pointed at me. I waved and smiled.

Shortly after, he had a break and came right over and gave me a hug. We chatted for a bit and then he continued the performance. They stopped playing shortly before the bar closed and were cleaning up their equipment. I waited around so I could say goodbye. He saw me waiting and walked over and said, “I have to go home and get some sleep.” I was irritated because I wasn’t expecting to hang out with him. I was saying goodbye, a goodbye that I knew would likely be for good. We hugged and I haven’t spoken with him since.

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Result

I started to feel very depressed. I constantly felt like I wasn’t good enough for these men. I wasn’t good enough to be taken out for dinner. I wasn’t good enough to be romanced. I wasn’t good enough to date. None of them wanted to put in any effort. The dating scene is awful, no matter where I go. I was starting to believe that I’d be single forever. For the first time, it crossed my mind that I just might never meet someone that I actually like.

On one of the nights, I watched Destination Wedding, a dark romantic comedy. It made me sad that I didn’t have a partner. But these men all made me feel worse than feeling lonely. Maybe being lonely is better than being broken-hearted.

I often hear that expectations are the death of a relationship. While I think that can be true if you have unrealistic expectations, I also think it’s bullshit. I know that I have high expectations of myself, of my friends, of my family, and especially the person I’m involved with romantically. I tried really hard the last year to be carefree and throw expectations out the window.

Holding people to standards and not letting them be themselves, or holding them to expectations that society has placed, is bad. But we should have some expectations. I expect a partner to be honest, to be kind, and generally be a good human being. I don’t think that’s too much to ask. Trying to “let go of all expectations” was allowing me to accept poor behavior from Keven and Andrew. It was making me feel like that’s how the world is and I’m the weird one for expecting more.

I was recently talking with a guy about our dating woes on Tinder and I mentioned my experiences. His response was, “Wow, Don’t scare those poor fellas. Actually wanting attention. What’s next, conversation over dinner?” It made me feel better knowing there are men out there who put in work and don’t think it’s unreasonable to have basic expectations.

After experiencing all of this over a month, I decided I was done with men. At least temporarily. I was tired of them making me feel horrible about myself. I was tired of crying myself to sleep. I decided that being alone wasn’t all that bad.  

Post Edited By: Mandy Strider
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Days 141-144: Game Night and Beer Tour

I spent day 141 hungover after the night club crawl. I talked with my cousin on the phone, worked out, and worked on my blog. The following morning, I spent hours on the phone with my doctor in Los Angeles, the pharmacy, and my medical insurance. The pharmacy filled a 90-day supply, but my insurance only allows for 30 days at a time. It was infuriating that I had to spent hours rectifying this and explaining to all parties involved what happened.

That evening, I was looking for things to do that would get me out and about. It was dead season, so there was not a lot going on. On the Whistler community website, I saw that they were hosting a few game nights over the next several weeks on Monday evenings at the library. It was free and I love board games, so I was sold.

The library was closed, except for the room near the entrance that was hosting game night. Volunteers were helping explain the games that people weren’t familiar with and handing out cups of popcorn. I was intimated walking inside because I didn’t know anybody. There were probably around 25 people there, already divided and playing games. I was only five minutes late, but clearly these people all arrived early.

I saw a guy and a girl sitting together and they hadn’t picked a game yet, so I asked if I could join them. They said I could and then three girls walked in late. They joined our group and we looked through all of the large plastic bins of games to find one we wanted to play. One of the volunteers, who owned all of the games and was letting everyone use them, helped us pick a game. He was tall and sort of nerdy. Let’s be honest, it’s a game night at the library, we were all sort of nerdy.

The volunteer recommended we play a game called Dix It because it was good for non-native English speakers. In our group, we had one girl from Taiwan, one guy from Chili, and three girls from Japan. Their English was good, but they were still learning. None of us had played Dix It before, so the volunteer helped walk us through the instructions.

As we played, I got to know a little bit more about the players. The girl from Taiwan worked with the guy from Chili. Two of the girls from Japan were roommates, and they had just met the third girl from Japan right before they arrived.

All of them, except for one, had a work visa for one to two years. They were relatively new to the area and still getting used to where things were. One girl from Japan who was sitting across from me said she was just there to vacation and snowboard. Unfortunately, there wasn’t any snow.

The girl to my right, Saya, was from Japan and had a one year work visa. She started in Vancouver, but several friends told her about Whistler because they’re all skiers and snowboarders. She came to Whistler a few months prior, got a job, and decided to spend the rest of her year there. She works two part-time jobs in a kitchen and a bakery.

Saya and her ex-boyfriend hiked most of a popular trail in the south end of New Zealand in 2016. We bonded over hiking and I told her I hiked the John Muir Trail in 2016. The year she hiked in New Zealand, they were having a horrible summer with constant rain, so they didn’t complete the hike.

In two hours, we played two games and Saya won them both. It was really fun! Sometimes the guy from Chili had to look up words to see their meaning. It was a good game for them to practice their English, and it challenged me to find ways to explain certain words. They mentioned they were all going to a free English class later in the week and asked if I wanted to go. I laughed, “I’ve had enough English classes in my lifetime, I’ll pass.”

Once game night was over, I walked over to a bar that I saw had a trivia night. I was too late to join in, so I sat at the bar and had a beer while I listened. I was bummed that I didn’t have friends to join me and regretted not asking my new game-night friends if they wanted to go. Sometimes it’s hard to put myself out there. Even with friends, there’s a fear they’ll reject me.

I spent the next day working out and writing. On day 144, it was time for the afternoon beer crawl. I met up with the hosts, Brittany and JD, who I had met at the nighttime club crawl. Brittany was 30, fit, with straight, long dark hair. She’s from North Vancouver, but was currently living in Squamish (about 45 minutes south of Whistler). JD appeared to be in his late 20s, was tall, and had light brown hair. He is from Tasmania, lived in a few other Canadian cities, and now lives in Whistler. They were both really friendly and helped to make the time enjoyable.

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In the group, there were two customers: Abbie and Caleb. Abbie was 28, tall, thin with long blonde hair, and was from the U.K. She spent eight months in Australia, but her work visa expired so she figured she’d go to Canada or New Zealand. Canada is closer and friends told her about Whistler. In May, she found a job and a place to live, so decided to stay until her visa expired. She doesn’t see herself living in the U.K. and said, “I’m 28, maybe I should be applying for permanent residency and put down some roots.” Abby told me that one time she went to the south in the U.S. and the waitress kept wanting to hear Abby talk because she had never met someone from England. Abby couldn’t believe someone could be 60-years-old and not have met a person from England before.

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Caleb was in his 20s, was a around 5’9”, and had dark blonde hair. He was from Australia and had been in Whistler for two years. He works at the same hostel as Abby. I mentioned my board game night and Caleb said he used to be part of a monthly board game club.

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I was happy that our group was small enough that we could get to know each other better. We went to four different bars, sampling lots of beers. Brittany and JD provided a lot of good information. At one point, Brittany’s roommate, Dan, joined us for part of the tour. We had a couple of appetizers at one place, but over the course of a few hours, we had a lot of beer.

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Brittany and JD had a meeting to attend so they took off, but Abby, Caleb, and I were hungry and needed some food in our stomachs. They said there was a local wok restaurant that had a half-off special for locals since it was dead season. We walked over there, loaded up on food, and got really  tired.

The three of us walked to the hostel where they worked. The upstairs has a restaurant overlooking the sidewalk in the village. It was much nicer than what you’d expect for a hostel and they had board games in the corner. We grabbed Uno and started playing with a few other people. There was one girl there who kept changing the rules of Uno to suite her, which was frustrating.

After Uno, a few of us played Settlers of Catan. It was my first time playing, but I had heard a lot about it. They taught me how to play, and it took me awhile to figure out a strategy – I did not win. While some of the guys were getting drinks, Abby told me about her relationship with the manager there she’d been dating for the last few months. He was temporarily back in Spain and she was feeling distant. I totally understood her concerns and how hard it was to find someone who had the qualities she kept looking for, but struggled to find…until she met her current boyfriend. Once you find that, the fear sets in that you’ll lose it.

I went home after the board games and was starting to feel like I lived there. I was getting discounts for locals and the people I met lived there, they weren’t tourists. Whistler was such an international city. I loved that I was meeting people from all over the world. I was starting to see myself there for the long-term.

Post Edited By: Mandy Strider
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Days 134-140: A Week in Whistler, Canada

I drove to the local rec center to check out their facility. It was large and new, with a lot of machines. They also had a swimming pool and an ice rink. But there were also a lot of people. To get there, I had to drive about four miles down the main road. I worried that it would be difficult to access when the snow came and it was more expensive than the small gym I could walk to. I decided to join the Whistler Athletic Club instead.

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I needed to get some items and since I didn’t want to pay the high Whistler prices, I drove 45 minutes to the Walmart in Squamish. The drive was beautiful as the sun set behind the snow-capped mountains.

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Squamish is larger than Whistler, so they have more shopping options like Walmart and Home Depot. I got the items I needed and drove back to my place in Whistler. I made tacos for dinner and relaxed.

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Over the next two days, I worked out at my new gym, talked to several friends on the phone, and walked around Creekside Village. The main village was a couple of miles away. Creekside was older and much smaller, but it was walking distance. There were a few shops and a market, but it was mostly empty. I knew it was dead season, but I was hoping there would still be some things going on.

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I decided I needed to get outside and enjoy the day because the sun was shining. I went to Whistler because I thought I wouldn’t be tempted to venture out in the snow and could get some writing done. Well, it turned out that Whistler was having their warmest, driest November on record. I put my hiking clothes on and walked to a nearby trail.

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Whistler has a lot of amazing paved paths that go all around the forest, connecting to the village. It was sunny, but cool outside. The fall colors were beautiful and I enjoyed seeing the changing seasons. I was walking down the trail near my place and there was hardly anybody outside. I passed a beautiful lake under the bright blue sky.

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After about 20 minutes, I came to a split in the trail and a sign. As I headed towards the sign, a couple was standing there staring at something. They quietly told me, “There’s a bear over there.” Surprised, I walked towards them, looking for the bear. Sure enough, he popped up from a boulder by a marsh, looked at us, and then walked over to the paved path. He just cruised around the path, heading to the backyards of some houses to scavenge. He even walked on the right side of the path!

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I was surprised that the bear was out there because I thought he should be hibernatin, but the warmth was preventing that. After the bear was out of sight, I followed the path he was on. I took it to a lake and kept my eyes peeled for the bear. There was a small park there and the lake was beautiful and peaceful.

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The following day I walked to the gym to work out, came back and showered, and drove to the post office. I needed to mail a check for my health insurance. The post office is in the main village, so while I was there I walked around. Once the sun set it got very cold, so I bought a hat. The village is a beautiful area – shops, restaurants, and bars that are all in wooden cabin-like buildings. The brick sidewalk was lined with trees and gave the town such an amazing mountain feel.

I walked over to Portobello, my favorite restaurant for dinner. However, it was off-season, so it closed at 2:00 pm. Instead, I ate a burger at a nearby restaurant. I didn’t feel like going back to my place because I had been pretty bored the last week. I went inside the Fairmont Chateau, which is where Portobello was located. Just past the lobby, they had an upscale bar and lounge area. I saw they had live music that night, so I sat at the bar to listen.

I ordered a drink and a piece of cake and talked with the bartender, Frederick. He got me a local magazine so I had something to look through. I found homes for sale and couldn’t believe the high prices. Even small condos with a fraction of ownership were overpriced. For example, one townhouse was for sale for $128,500 for ¼ of the ownership (12 weeks a year). Or you could purchase 1/10 ownership of a 3 bedroom townhouse for $195,000. Sure it was 2,449 square feet, but your $195,000 only got you a tenth ownership (5.2 weeks a year).

Frederick told me it’s been a huge problem for years. Builders only want to build multi-million-dollar homes for the rich (who stay there a few weeks a year), which leaves nowhere for regular people to live. Being a ski town, Whistler is based on hospitality. But what happens when staff members can’t afford to live there? Frederick told me, “It’ll be interesting to see what happens this coming season.”

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I enjoyed the conversation and the live music, which was a solo guy with a guitar. The atmosphere was beautiful, but it was expensive. Mixed drinks ranged from $17-$22 each, so I stuck with beer for $9. I love fancy hotels, but sometimes I forget that I’m not currently earning any money. The magazine that Frederick gave me was helpful. I found out about a craft crawl, which was an afternoon beer tour. I signed up for it the following day. Unfortunately, it was cancelled because not enough people signed up. Instead, they offered the nighttime club crawl. I asked if I was too old for that and they assured me I wasn’t.

After spending a day and a half writing, it was time for the club crawl. It started at 8:00 pm at one of the bars. I decided to take the bus down there so I could drink and not worry about driving back. There was a bus station about a three minute walk away from my place and it cost $2.50 each way. I arrived at the station in the dark and could barely see, but I could tell there was a guy there holding a lamp.

While we waited for the bus, he told me he was from the U.K. His dad had purchased a place in Whistler, but he couldn’t live there because his dad was renting it out. The guy is helping his dad as the property manager, and he had to replace a lamp, which is why it was in his hand. I told the guy I drove to Alaska and am writing a book about the John Muir Trail.

Just then, the bus pulled up and we both got on. The first section of the bus has seats facing each other. I was on one side, while this guy was on the other. There were other people around us and he said, “Now you have me intrigued.” I told him a little bit about my travels until we arrived at his stop. He got off and wished me luck.

When I arrived at the bar, I met Brittany, JD, and George. They were the organizers and there were 17 of us signed up for the club crawl.

Brittany and I had corresponded previously about the craft crawl and night club crawl, and it was nice meeting her in person. To help with ice breakers, they had games that involved clothes pin, and taking a shot from a shot ski.

The group was mostly women. There was a group of girls celebrating a 30th birthday, and another group of 23-year-olds there for a bachelorette party. I started talking with another single girl there, Ashlyn. She was from Ottawa and had just graduated college. She moved to Whistler a month ago and was working at a company that does property management. She was able to get staff housing, but has a few roommates.

Ashlyn and I talked about relationships. She had a long-term boyfriend in high school but hadn’t had a relationship since. As we talked near the bar, a guy accidentally hit my arm right as I was taking a drink, which made the glass hit my teeth and spill my beer. He was very apologetic and bought me a shot to make up for it. I looked at Ashlyn, “I probably shouldn’t be taking a shot from a stranger, but oh well.”

The group leaders told us that we needed to go to the next bar and Ashlyn told me she wasn’t continuing with the group. She was friends with one of the tour leaders and just came out for a quick drink. She had an 11-hour shift the following day and wanted to get to bed early. I was bummed because she had been my friend at that first bar.

The rest of the group was made up of the two parties and two single guys. As we walked to the next place (a club) the 23-year-old girls from the bachelorette party welcomed me to their group. They were from Vancouver and were really sweet. They joked that they were fostering me since I was alone. One of the girls would always say, “Come on, Christy” as we went from place to place.

We went to a total of four different clubs, dancing and drinking. The clubs are all underground because of noise ordinances. The girls bought me a pickle juice shot, and paid for one of my drinks. It was really nice that they accepted me as part of their group.

At one of the clubs, several of the girls and I went to the bathroom. While we waited in line, I told them I was on Tinder and Bumble, but I wasn’t having much luck. They said Bumble was better and it’s how one of the girls met her current boyfriend.

One of the girls told me, “If you’re going to hook up with someone here, please use protection. I’m a nurse in Vancouver and I can tell you Whistler has a problem. They have more STI’s than any other city in all of Canada. They actually had to pass a law here requiring that people use protection and if you’re caught not using protection, you can be in trouble. It’s all because of the Australians. They are promiscuous and they don’t like to use protection.”

Wow, ok. Good to know. I had noticed there was a very large number of Australians in Whistler. There are also a lot of people from the U.K. and New Zealand. Weeks later I asked someone why that was and they told me it’s because they’re all part of the Commonwealth so they can easily get two-year work visas when they’re under 31. Then they apply for permanent residency. They told me that 20 years ago, Australians all went to London. But now they all go to Whistler.

I bought the girls shots and we headed to the last club. It was very cold outside and each club had a coat check at the entrance. I was definitely not used to that in Los Angeles. As we walked through the village to the final place, I talked with one of the guides, George. He was 24 and was from Australia. He works a construction job during the day building a large house on the side of the mountain. He said, “Everyone here has three jobs, or this place would shut down. The problem is there isn’t enough staff housing.”

As we talked, a girl walked up to George and kissed him, saying, “Remember me?” He replied, “Yeah, you kissed me.” And walked away. We arrived to the final club and 15 minutes later, they told us we were on our own for the rest of the night. My new bachelorette friends said they were going to find some food and asked me to go with them. We had just gotten there so I stayed at the club.

I regretted that decision shortly after. I hung out alone in the corner watching much younger people dance. About 15 minutes, I took the bus back to my place and ate some ramen noodles. I was 38, feeling like I was 23. Sometimes that’s just the kind of night you need.

Post Edited By: Mandy Strider
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Days 130-133: Getting Settled in Whistler, Canada

On Halloween morning, I left Vancouver, Washington and drove about four hours to Mount Vernon, Washington to stay the night with my friend Chanell. I arrived in the early evening and enjoyed a delicious crockpot meal that Chanell had prepared. Her adorable children, ages 1 and 3, had carved some pumpkins that were proudly displayed on the front porch.

Once it got dark outside, I tagged along with Chanell, her husband Matt, and the kids to go trick-or-treating. I absolutely love taking kids trick-or-treating. I love the costumes, the fun vibes, and the excitement as kids gather more and more candy. When I was a kid, my dad used to take me and my siblings trick-or-treating, and I was determined to get as much candy as possible. I used a pillow case and because I’m a saver, I would slowly eat my candy over the next year.

It was a foggy night outside, which created the perfect ambiance. Once we were finished and the kids went to bed, Chanell and I stayed up late talking. We talked about how she was doing during her current pregnancy, and what books she was reading. She had a lofty goal of reading two books a month and was on track to achieve it.

After enjoying a relaxing breakfast at Chanell’s house, I continued my drive north towards Whistler, British Columbia. The U.S. and Canada border is only about an hour and a half north of Mount Vernon. I arrived fairly quickly, but I always worry about getting through. The intimidating police officers and border security scare me.

I pulled up to the booth when it was my turn and a young, blonde, girl with a French accent sternly started asking me questions:

Where are you staying?

For how long?

Why did you drive instead of fly?

Do you have friends here?

I was surprised by some of her questions, like asking why I drove my car, because I hadn’t been asked them before. Just then, she received a phone call and closed her window to talk on the phone. I started to worry. Were they calling her because there was a problem?

Thankfully, she opened her window, handed me my passport, and said I was free to go. I drove past high rises in Vancouver and then hit the Sea to Sky highway to Whistler. Whistler is about an hour and a half north of Vancouver and it’s a very scenic drive. It was raining and foggy, however, so I couldn’t see much.

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I arrived at my Airbnb at 4:00 pm, which was a small, recently remodeled condo. It had been remodeled in gray and white with all things IKEA. Lisa, the owner, met me there to let me inside and show me around. I had booked the place for the month, so I’d be there for a while.

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Airbnb on a clear day

Lisa was in her 40s, thin with long blonde hair, pretty and spunky. She was from Melbourne, Australia and said, “I came here 25 years ago for a three month holiday and then I never left.” That seemed to be the story with most of the people in Whistler. We couldn’t get the cable to work and we played around with several wires. Eventually, her friend got on the phone for assistance and we got it to work.

The place was beautiful, but small. It was a studio and the couch converted into the bed. Lisa knew I would be doing a lot of writing so she got me a small wooden folding table and chairs. There was also a great reading nook with windows looking out to the driveway below and a view of gorgeous trees.

I unloaded several bags from my car and then drove to the market to get some groceries. As I walked around the produce section, I noticed several attractive, single men in their late 20s to late 30s. I was pleasantly surprised and thought this could be a great place to be.

The food was extremely expensive and my total came to $275! Thankfully, that was only $209 US dollars. I had to buy things like salt and pepper since the condo was new and didn’t have anything. I loaded my car in the pouring rain. I had a hard time making my way back the few miles in the dark with such little light pollution. I pulled up to the front door and carried all of my bags down to the first floor. Then I had to move my car to the parking lot around a second building and down a hill. I thought, “I’m prepared for a winter in the mountains, right?”

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It was raining the following day and was perfect weather to stay indoors and write. I unpacked some clothes and got settled. It was the first time in four months I could unpack. While the rain was nice writing weather, I was anxiously waiting for the snow. I had a goal of writing while I was cozied up inside my little apartment, watching the snow fall.

The next day I went to a small gym, the Whistler Athletic Club, that was a 15 minute walk down the road. I was able to do a free workout to try it out. It was small and not the nicest, but it had the machines I like to use. At $68 a month, it was also the cheapest.

I spent the day writing and listening to music because that’s part of my process. At 10:15 pm, I heard a knock on my door. I was still in my workout clothes and answered the door.

A short man about 5’7” in his 40s who looked like a serial killer was standing there. He introduced himself as Kelly who was staying in unit 109 for the month while he was there for work. He was doing laundry and accidentally locked his phone inside the room. The laundry room uses a passcode, and everyone has their own code. Kelly told me he knocked on my door because he could hear my music, so he figured I was still awake.

I was slightly worried since he seemed a little strange, but I gave him the paper with my code. He came back a few minutes later and said it didn’t work. He couldn’t message the owner because he didn’t have his phone. I took the paper with my code and followed him to the laundry room. The room is at the other end of the long, windy hallway. I thought, “Is this guy trying to lure me away so he can kill me?”

I tried the code and it wouldn’t work. I texted the maintenance guy since his number was listed on my paper. While we waited for a reply, Kelly told me he’s from Calgary and he was hired as a consultant for a car repair shop that wasn’t doing well. He mentioned that he lived in the U.S. for seven years in many different states. Kelly liked the U.S., but said he doesn’t want to live there. He pointed out that Americans say “uh-huh” all the time, so I pointed out that Canadians say “eh?” all the time.

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Kelly went on, “Here’s the difference in Americans and Canadians: If an American doesn’t like you, they’ll tell you. If a Canadian doesn’t like you, they’ll tell everyone else.” I told Kelly about my drive to Alaska from California. He responded, “People tell me that California has more people than all of Canada, and I’m like ‘You think that’s a good thing!?’”

I had messaged the owner of my unit and she provided another code for me to try. It also didn’t work. Then I noticed the sign on the door listed the hours until 10:00 pm. I told Kelly it’s probably not working because it’s past 10:00 pm. On the way back to my unit, I stopped by Kelly’s unit, where he had left the door open. He ran inside to grab paper and write down the new code we were provided. He messed up the number and said, “Sorry, I have brain damage.”

I went back to my unit and locked the door. I like helping people, but something seemed off about him. I found out from the maintenance guy the following morning that the door codes stop working after 10:00 pm, which is what I had suspected. I had only been there a few days, but it already felt like my own little apartment, dealing with everyday issues like laundry.

Post Edited By: Mandy Strider
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Day 95: Train Wreck and Suspension Bridge

I checked out of my Airbnb and sat in the parking lot to book my next place in Vancouver. I didn’t get the chance to visit the Capilano Suspension Bridge last time I was there, so I was heading back to see it. Before leaving Whistler, I wanted to see a literal train wreck.

I found the trail online, but the directions were confusing because there were two ways to get there. I ended up off the side of the main road on a small gravel shoulder. I found a small trail with a sign stating that I could hike at my own risk.

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I was wearing jeans, my hair was down, and I was carrying a purse. I wasn’t prepared to hike because I thought it would be a quick walk to the train cars. The trail I was on was steep and in a wooded area. It was a shorter distance than the flat path from a parking lot, but it was definitely more of a hike. I wished I had a hair tie as my sweaty hair stuck to my neck in the humidity.

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I arrived to a set of train tracks and just after I crossed, I saw the damaged train cars. In 1956, a train derailed on a section of the track that was undergoing construction and had a speed limit of 15 MPH. The freight train was going 35 MPH when it crashed. Three cars were wedged in the narrow canyon and a local logging company brought their equipment to the site to assist with the clean up efforts. According to a sign posted at the site, “Five of the derailed boxcars were salvageable, but the remaining seven were too damaged to save. Those seven boxcars were stripped of useful material and dragged out of the way, which was the quickest way to get trains back on schedule.”

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To access the train cars, people had to walk down the unsafe track, so the city created a trail. They also added a bridge over the Cheakamus River so people could safely access the site. I accidentally took the non-approved way to the site.

There was just a handful of people walking around taking pictures, so the area felt isolated and eerie. Spray paint covered the rusty cars and the metal was dented and bent.

This was just one more reason why I loved Whistler. There are so many unique places to discover. The giant train cars were fascinating to explore.

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I hiked back to my car and headed towards Vancouver. It was a beautiful, sunny day. When I drove up there from Vancouver a week earlier, it was a cloudy, rainy day and I couldn’t see much. This time, I could for miles and miles.

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I stopped a couple of times to take in the view. Lush, green mountain tops with the occasional snow-pack covered the mountains in the distance.

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As I got closer to Vancouver, I could see the ocean to my right. The sun glistened off the water. The Sea to Sky Highway was appropriately named.

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I arrived to the Capilano Suspension Bridge about two hours before they closed. That would be enough time to explore, but I’d have to hurry. The bridge is 460 feet long and 230 feet above the Capilano River.

I briefly joined a free tour with a guide and a few people, but he was taking too long so I ventured off on my own to explore. During my brief time with the guide I learned that the bridge was originally built in 1889 by George Grant Mackay because he wanted to hunt on the other side of the river. In 1903, the bridge was replaced with wire cables. The bridge was sold a couple of times and was completely rebuilt in 1956.

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In 1983, the bridge was sold to Nancy Stibbard, the current owner. In 2004, Nancy opened Treetop Adventures: seven footbridges suspended between old-growth Douglas Fir trees. The guide told us that the bridge was originally purchased for $6,000 and is now worth 7.2 billion dollars!

I arrived at the bridge and was terrified to cross it, but I had to in order to get to the tree top bridges. I stepped onto the bridge that was sturdy, but also shaky. It’s a long, scary walk to the other side. When people passed me, the bridge would sway to the left and right several inches, making me feel like it would flip over. I gripped the side railing as hard as I could and tried not to look directly down to the raging river. I told myself that thousands of people walk across this bridge everyday and they all survived.

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I happily made it to the other side and started to explore the wooden path that wound through the giant trees. I came to a section that overlooked the river where  people throw coins onto a large boulder to make a wish. I contributed and made my wish (can’t tell you what it was or it won’t come true!)

The last thing to see on that side of the bridge were the tree-bridges. This is a series of rope and wooden bridges that take you from treehouse to treehouse.

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Even though I was high off the ground, I was loving it! I felt stable enough that I didn’t feel like I’d fall. It reminded me of my favorite Star Wars movie – the one with Ewoks. Me and my sister used to have stuffed Ewoks growing up and I loved playing with mine. He was my buddy that I carried around. Walking across the trees took me to the Forest Moon of Endor (home of the Ewoks).

Once I finished with the tree-bridges, I walked across the main suspension bridge to get back to the other side. This time there was less people on it, so it wasn’t as shaky.

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Next to the bridge on that side was a walkway attached to the rock wall. It jetted off the side and I walked across it. I walked quickly and had to keep telling myself I would be fine. The drop below was terrifying!

I finished my adventure right as the bridge was closing. I only planned on staying in Vancouver one night because the following day I was taking the ferry to Vancouver Island. I knew I wouldn’t get there until late and I would leave in the morning, so I booked one of the cheapest rooms I saw for $34.

I ate near the house so I wouldn’t have to go back out once I checked in. The neighborhood wasn’t very nice and I was getting a little worried about my choice. I parked on the street and arrived at the Airbnb around 8:00 pm. It was dark outside and I followed the instructions to get inside, which said the front door is left unlocked.

I was renting a room with a shared bathroom. The owner lives there and the living room and kitchen are not shared. He rents out several rooms so he keeps the front door unlocked, but each room has its own key.

In the foyer was a rental room to the right and stairs leading upstairs. The rest of the main floor was closed off. I walked up the stairs with my bags and two men in their 30s were talking in the living room near a massage table. I tried to open the door to my room, room three, but it was locked. The key was supposed to be left in the door for me. I asked one of the guys who was wearing a robe if he was the owner and he said he was. I explained my door was locked. He checked and said, “Hm, they must have taken your room. Here, just take room four. It’s better anyway.”

Room four was right next to room three. I opened the door and there was a box spring and a mattress on the floor with a comforter. The plain room had a small desk and a tv on a simple stand. The walls had smear marks on them like someone tried to wipe them down, and nails were left where pictures once hung. It smelled of weed and spices, and it was hot. I opened the window since there wasn’t air conditioning and the noise from the metro came roaring inside.

I went back to my car to get some things, like my small fan. Once I was back inside my room, I heard the owner talking to another guest, “Hey! It’s a girl so you can put the moves on her.” The guest laughed and replied, “No, that’s the Colombians.” WTF, I have no idea what that meant. Of course they were surprised. No sane single woman would be staying in this bachelor pad.

I waited to use the shower until I thought everyone was asleep because I wasn’t about to leave my locked room. The bathroom was right next to my room and I used it first to assess if anyone was still awake. As I came out, a guy from downstairs peaked his head up, “Do you know how to use the shower? I couldn’t get it to work.”

I looked and noticed it had the same set up at an Airbnb I stayed at while I was in Anchorage. I showed him how to use it and he was grateful. I had to wait for him to shower and then I showered.

I went to bed feeling creeped out. This was one of those times traveling as a solo female can be scary. I made a choice to spend as little money as I could find on Airbnb and I definitely got what I paid for. Just like crossing the bridge earlier that day, I told myself I would be fine. This was a day of positive self talk!

Post Edited By: Mandy Strider
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Days 93-94: Ziplining Away

I was happy to have more privacy in my little Airbnb. I paid some bills, including my health insurance. I was using the Cobra program, which allows people to keep their same health insurance that they received through their employer for up to 18 months, except now I had to pay for it. Each month I had to send a check to my previous employer to continue my insurance because they don’t take electronic payment. I walked over to the post office and asked the woman at the counter for a stamp. It cost $1.26…and we complain about $0.41 per stamp in the US! It also took more than a week to be delivered.

I strolled through the village and ended up at the zipline tour office. I booked a tour for the following day, grabbed some food, and took it back to my Airbnb. I spent the rest of the day writing for my blog.

The following afternoon I walked to the zipline meeting place. There were ten people in our group, with two guides. The two female guides were from Australia and in their early 20s. They lined us all up to put on our harnesses. Then we got into a van that drove us about halfway up the mountain. The guides told us there were bears and mountain lions in the area.

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When we arrived, we walked through the woods for a bit until we reached our first line of seven. The first line was the longest line and was a double, so two people go at once. I have ziplined once before and I am afraid of heights when I don’t feel supported. This was fun, but also terrifying. I believe in facing my fears, hoping that eventually I’ll conquer them.

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I stepped off of the platform and started zipping down the first line. As I went, I kept turning backwards, which made me nervous since I couldn’t see the landing. Your line clips into the brake to slow you down right before you hit the platform. It can be jarring and forceful, so each time my body was tense as I anticipated it.

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The fourth line was the fastest and we had to step off of a ledge (like a tree house platform). I had a hard time getting myself to step off and let the line catch me, but I eventually did it!

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Because of our groups’ size and having to wait for each person, it took a few hours to finish ziplining. While we waited, I talked with one of the guides. She was very short, but her boyfriend was 6’6”. This always seems to be the case – all the tall men date short girls.

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 After we finished zip lining, we were walking back to the village and saw four bears! There was a mamma and her three cubs. They were just scavenging for food underneath the empty ski lifts.

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For dinner, I walked to Portobello’s, my new favorite restaurant, and got some mac and cheese. I devoured it before I could take a picture, but I remembered to take a picture of my dessert.

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After dinner, I went back to my Airbnb to soak in the hot tub. There wasn’t anybody there, and I thoroughly  enjoyed the bubbles and the warmth. I showered and got dressed because Adam was going to come over after band practice. However, he got into a fight with his bandmates about a music video they were about to shoot.

I was disappointed because I was feeling lonely and wanted the company. Adam and I messaged as he vented about the fight. They were waiting for the director to come over to discuss their ideas. It was nice to message with Adam and at least have a friend to talk with.

I was leaving Whistler the following day and that morning I messaged Adam thanking him for being nice, respectful, and friendly. He sent me a nice message saying he thought I was cool and enjoyed meeting me. We agreed to stay in touch and maybe our paths would cross again. I was happy to have him as a friend. I had a feeling that I would make my way to back Whistler soon.

Post Edited By: Mandy Strider
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