SWORDFERN
Rooted, I used to think.

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Giving Notice - Friday, Sept. 29, 2017
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The Builder - Wednesday, Sept. 13, 2017
Rupert Part II - Sunday, Sept. 10, 2017


Saturday, Mar. 18, 2006 @ 10:03 am
Petgill Lake



Finally, a sunny Sunday.

We drove up the Sea to Sky and attempted to hike to Petgill Lake. Turned out that we were the first up there since the big snowfall last week. Our little six-point crampons didn't do much when the snow became thigh-deep. We slogged towards the lake for nearly four hours, hoping that the lake was "just another 5 minutes" away. I was ahead of Daniel, pushing determinedly through the snow when he finally put his foot down (into three feet of snow) and said we were being foolish without snowshoes.

The gallop downhill through the already broken snow was a fun romp, sunshine beautiful and warm. We rested at a high point, tramped down the snow and had a backcountry cookout of soup, tuna melts and tea. Homemade molasses cookies mushed and frozen into one cookie. We continued down the trail with travel mugs full of tea, as if Starbucks was just up across the previous gully.

On Monday I went hiking up Seymour with my father. We cramponed up the icy face of the first peak and then ambled on across a small valley to the second peak. He showed me how to stop myself with the ice axe if I were to fall down an icy slope and we practiced over a steep edge off of the side of Mystery Peak. His hair is nearly all grey now. Face starting to look like Grampa. He told me about his pension cheques that he's just started to recieve.

Only now in my adulthood do I see what he is and who I am and how this all happened. It's easy now to learn from him, and now is the time to extract all I can from his greying head.





Daniel breaking trail to Petgill Lake


Roots | Shoots