Tag: Travel

Skyline Trail: One Less Bucket List Item

We were halfway into our Skyline Trail hike when Dan asked me a question. 

“So, how long have you wanted to do this hike?

I had to think for a minute. 

“I don’t know exactly, but it was long before you were born. Let’s say 40 years.”

Day 1, Lorraine Lake

To be truthful, I’d given up the idea of tackling this epic 45km trail in Jasper National Park. It seemed less likely after my health problems, and considering how much effort it would take to organize the required overnight backcountry camping. 

That was before I mentioned my bucket list item to my son, Dan. Next thing I knew he had sent me an email with possible itineraries and dates, complete with a packing list and even his menu suggestions. He’d already booked the campsites. 

I realized I had no reason to say no. We were going to Jasper on the August long weekend! 

I went into rapid preparation mode, starting with some shorter hikes and an actual backpack (my old Arc’teryx Bora 65). I bought some missing gear, which was almost as much fun as the hiking. Deb did us a huge favour by organizing our food into about a thousand convenient Ziploc bags. We were off!

We would do the hike in 3 days, in the typical south-to-north direction, from Maligne Lake to Signal Lake. The trail crosses three passes and gains 1,400 metres of elevation. Our days would increase from 8 km to 13 km to 26 km. I was secretly worried about that last day; I didn’t want to be the guy they had to rescue by helicopter. 

Day 2, Big Shovel Pass

As it turned out, I got more comfortable with my pack each day. The trail was perfectly maintained. I handled it all well. Dan was an amazing trail companion and a totally confident backpacker. He did all the planning, all the cooking (including the most unexpected and awesome birthday cake ever), and most of the hauling. There were only a couple of times I felt I was holding him back. I did decline his offer of a quick side scramble up Curator Mountain though. 

The scenery was spectacular, especially on either side of the third pass, The Notch, which at 2,500 metres is the highest point on the trail. We had an early start on day 3, and my mantra was “Notch by nine”. I told myself the climb was just another tough interval workout. It was fascinating to see how each pass opened up very different vistas and microclimates; from lush green valleys to moonscapes. There were great B&W landscapes everywhere you looked. (I had the capable and compact Ricoh GR III with me.)

Day 3, Descending from The Notch

We knew there was a chance of thunderstorms as we approached the final campsite, Signal. Suddenly, the sky darkened around us. I forgot all about my aching feet, as our attention shifted to one goal… getting to a lower elevation. 

Fortunately, the sky cleared, after dropping some large but harmless raindrops on us. That left us only with the monotony of an 8-km fire road to finish the hike. 

Overall, it was the fulfillment of a lifelong dream, and best of all, a chance to spend a few memorable days with a wonderful person. 

Day 3, The Notch, 2,500m

A Special Race

For the second consecutive year, Debbie and I were in beautiful Vancouver, to run in the “First Half” Half Marathon (sponsored by RunVan). It was a special weekend. For me, just to compete in the race felt like an achievement. To run with Deb made it even sweeter. We met our goals for the race, after a long winter of training in Calgary. Several of our teammates and training partners were there with us. Even better was to spend the weekend with our son Matt.

Race Day, 2023

As satisfying as the race was for us, it was also a bittersweet weekend. You can read my race report from the 2022 race to find out why. I’ve reproduced it below. You will see why the First Half is a race that has special memories for me.

2022 First Half Race Report

We each have races that hold special meaning. The First Half Half Marathon in Vancouver is one such race for me. In 2011, it was the first race I ran as a new member of my club, Adrenaline Rush. That winter was harsh, even by Alberta standards, but my teammates and I survived some truly epic long runs on the path to race day.

The First Half is hugely popular. It regularly sells out in a day, so I felt lucky to secure an entry in 2013. In 2016, in a steady rain, I put together a solid performance and finished third in my age group. It was one of my best race results ever. My fondness for the race grew.

In 2017, things went from strange to scary. My wife Debbie and I travelled to Vancouver on Valentine’s Day weekend, only to have a freak snowstorm shut the city down. The race was cancelled. Then in July, my life was turned upside down by a series of strokes. Running at all became an open question. It looked unlikely that I would ever run in the First Half again.

But life has continued. And even better, it includes running. My return to the sport has been cautious. It now includes the pleasant option of running often with Debbie. I have started doing solo runs. And in addition to watching my teammates from the sidelines as an assistant coach, I now benefit from our interval training sessions.

Debbie, too, has ramped up her training. The idea of running the 2022 First Half was mostly hers, and while I wasn’t opposed to it, I wasn’t sure I would even make it to the start line. Knowing her as well as I do, I had no doubt she would put in the necessary hard work.

Our confidence grew through another tough winter as our long runs stretched out. We got to that inevitable point where we couldn’t wait for the taper. The weather outlook was for perfect racing conditions.

Finally, race day arrived. My phone rang as we got ready. Our sister-in-law, who had been bravely battling cancer, had passed away a few hours earlier. We knew this day was coming, but it was still hard to hear the news. As we had already put on our race kit, and knowing that Shelley was a great supporter of my brother’s running, we knew we had to carry on.

We got through the unusual rolling start and settled into our target pace. Through 17k, when my watch blacked out, this was a case study in good race execution. We handled the many distractions with ease: turns, fuelling, and traffic. Deb was in great form and running well. I was feeling good too. As always, the scenery in Stanley Park was a welcome diversion.

We felt the pull of the finish line in the last few kilometres. I could tell that both of us were in the same place mentally. I had warned Debbie about a hill in the last kilometre. She overcame it like just one more interval repeat. Our cruise into the finish felt smooth and effortless.

It was amazing to be in Vancouver again for an actual race. Our performance leaves me optimistic about the season ahead. I’m proud of Debbie, who trained diligently and delivered perfectly on her race plan. And me? I was happy just to have another chance at this race that I enjoy so much. Even though I ran with very different goals this time, I can report that the satisfaction is the same. Finally, on a sad day, we had another reason to experience this unique event, buoyed by memories of our late sister-in-law.