I truly love Whistler Resort in British Columbia Canada. It is the Disneyland of realists-and my favorite fantasy destination.It had been three years since my first visit to Whistler-in late summer- and what a treat to go there in February with lots of snow on the ground, and perfect weather:clear and cold enough to keep the snow from melting.

Whistler is like Disneyland only better because it's a real international community.And the ski 'rides' are real too.Those ambulances speeding by with sirens screaming are real and so are the folks riding in them.The people you see on crutches have real broken bones.

6,000 people live at Whistler year round. There was a lot of building going on during our visit. I heard that Whistler will be completely built out in 2 to 4 years.Laurel and I spent some time in the village where there are lots of shops and restaurants.You see and hear a lot of people in outdoor cafes and congregating in the square.Cars are not allowed in the village and it seems like a friendly place,with every one on foot.

I could detect English being spoken with German,Australian,Chinese and French accents.

Laurel didn't bring her skiis along, as I had been mistakenly told that the ski portion of our transportation package had been cancelled.But Laurel took it philosophically. It seemed that her old carpal tunnel problem had flared up overnite.A likely story,I thought though I knew those old sports related injuries can be heck.

Finally,after retrieving a spare pair of wrist supports out of my back pack, I talked Laurel into trying some X country skiing. Fortunately we were both experienced Nordic Trackers. We found some servicable ski equiptment at a rental place there at Whistler.

Laurel wanted to use a gondola to ride to the X country ski area. I preferred the more challenging 'extreme' Himalayan method:you climb up the mountain on foot,til you reach the designated area-then you start skiing. My will prevailed and with the snow falling lightly we took off walking on some low lying trails.

We walked about 20 minutes,and suddenly Laurel tripped on a large rock on the trail. She fell and at this point I began to doubt her prowess as an outdoors woman.

Being a nurse,Laurel knew her ankle was somewhat strained,but not broken.I quickly improvised an ankle support, out of my own wrist braces.The snow fell and was getting heavier.I managed to help her to her feet,Laurel could now stand up but not walk.We knew we had to get back to the village before dark, or we would miss our bus.At this point,believe it or not,a a large St.Bernard came running down the trail in our direction,but he didn't even stop to see if we needed help.I don't know if he had a barrel on his collar or not.

It was snowing a blizzard by now, and we decided to wait for help to arrive.We prayed the bus driver would realize we were missing. It was hours later, when the ski patrol found us.They were Frenchmen of course. How thankful I was then, for those two solid years of French lessons.The captain of the patrol-Jean Luc was his name- praised my loyalty to my friend.He promised to write me often.

The patrol brought Laurel and I back to the village by snowmobile. We drank brandy out of little paper cups.They fed us chocolates and covered us with fur throws to keep us warm.It was almost dark when we drove into the village,but I could see our bus had waited for us. Drat.

Copyright 1998, by Janet Bishop

Contact Information:

Janet Bishop bishopj@whidbey.net