Grouse mountain

We took our friends up to Grouse mountain for dinner yesterday.  I reserved it a couple of months ago, as soon as I heard they were coming because I thought they would enjoy the spectacular views.  We went to Grouse mountain with Will this summer and although it was a bit touristy, when we came around the bend in the woods and saw an enormous bear, scratching his back on a tree, only eight or nine feet away, but barely discernible because it was late dusk/almost night it was quite magical.  And I was hoping to be able to repeat that wonderful experience for them.  Also, since Grouse mountain is a bit higher up than the rest of Vancouver, I had my fingers crossed that we might be blessed with a little bit of snow to get everybody in the Christmas mood. 

“So what is this Grouse Mountain?“ my friend’s husband asked.  “What do people do there?“ 
“Lots of things,“ I said, brightly.  I had read all about their winter activities when I booked dinner at the Observatory, but I couldn’t remember when asked.  “I’ll look it up online,“ I said getting my computer and bringing it back into the living room. 

Tripadvisor was the first Grouse Mountain item to come up.  “Oh, it’s on Tripadvisor, I’ll read what they say,“ I said to the room.  I started reading the reviews.  There were a few lovely ones, (probably written by staff,)  and then we got to the disgruntled ones, of which there were quite a few.  Uh…oh.

To top it all off, the morning started out with bright sunshine, but by the time we were ready to leave It was a grey, drizzly, overcast day. “Maybe,“ I said to myself on the drive over.  “With the higher altitude, this rain will turn into lovely drifting flakes of snow.  (Because the whole “Thrill them with the impressive view,“ was clearly not going to happen.)  “I hope we get to see the bears,“ I said. 
“Bears,“ said my friend.  “Wouldn’t they be in hibernation?“  Wouldn’t they indeed!  Goodness, I forgot all about that tiny detail.  “Maybe they haven’t started yet?“  I say, in a desperate attempt to convince myself, but even as the words leave my mouth, I know that the bears are nestled cozy in their dens sleeping away.

The parking lot was jam-packed.  Hmm…That’s surprising, given the grim day.  We pay for the parking ticket, get our tram tickets and we are off.  The tram is jam-packed as well.  It is a young crowd, a few families with small children, the rest teens and early twenties, talking loud and wielding snowboards.  There is only one person on the tram that is even near our age and although he is a bit older, (late sixties) he is obviously quite fit, tall and toned, geared up in spiffy red and white skiing apparel. 

I save a spot by the door for our friends and steer them towards it as the tram jerks to a start.  “Look out the window,“ I instruct.  “You might see the wolves as we are travelling over the trees.“  (Will spotted the wolves on our last journey.  I didn’t even know they had them.  It was quite exciting.)  They stood, peering out of the steamed up windows, made foggy from all of the breathing bodies crammed into this small space. 

They didn’t see any wolves.  I don’t think anybody did.  If so, no one mentioned it. 

As we passed the towers, some of the people on the tram roared like we were on a fast moving roller coaster.  I roared too.  (the sedate summer crowd did not partake in these shenanigans.)  I hoped the tram wires wouldn’t give out under this enormous load of revelers.  I didn’t mention my worries though.  If we’re going to die, we might as well go out having fun.  And then suddenly, we are there, the tram starts to sink lower and I see beautiful snow ladened tree tops gliding past.  The doors open, everybody squeezes out.  I feel a snowboard prodding me in the back, but I don’t care.  I am back in my childhood.  Lost in the magic of deep, deep snow. 

We tromp around, snow falling, covering our shoulders, our hats, kissing our faces.  Our fingers and toes are the first to feel prickly pinch of the cold.  Skiers and snowboarders glide past.  We play with the idea of renting snowshoes.  I want to, but everybody else is trying to act supportive, but I can tell that they are quite lukewarm on the idea, so we don’t.  My friend contemplates trying out ice skating for the first time in her life, but her husband reminds her of her age and height, and how hard she would fall.  If it was just the two of us, I am sure we would have strapped ourselves into skates and gone toddling around the ice with the children and their parents, full of shrieks and laughter, and yes, perhaps a few bruises. 

We visit the depressed looking reindeer.  It’s my first reindeer.  It is way smaller than I imagined.  I don’t think even with eight of them that they’d be able to handle Santa’s loaded sleigh.  Even if they were imbued with magical powers.  The reindeer is not the magnificent creature that I envisioned, but still, I have to admit, I was quite excited to see one and the child in me had to sneak a pet, amongst all the children. 

We took the sleigh ride.  In the promo film it is pulled by three strong beautiful horses, with tossing heads and jingle bells attached to their harnesses.  Our sleigh, however, was pulled by a tractor.  But at least it was a pretty tractor/snowplow, painted a bright shiny red.  And I was clever, I grabbed the very back seat that no one wanted, so we didn’t have to inhale all the tractor fumes.  The ride was short.  I liked the first part best, where we went through the little wooded area.  I would have liked to have done more of that kind of thing.  It was so beautiful.

Then we saw the film.  (To those of you that go, don’t worry about missing this part.  The pre-show was actually interesting, but the actual “movie” was quite silly.  Not in a good way.  Not only that, but the loudspeaker on the left side buzzed very loudly throughout the whole thing.) 

Dinner in the observatory was very tasty and the service was good.  And although we didn’t get to see the view of the whole lit up and sparkling city, and the world beyond, we saw beauty of a different sort.  The snow, and clouds created the most cozy romantic atmosphere and the good friends, wonderful food, and bottle of wine made it truly a night to remember. 

Going down in the tram, we roared again, passing the towers, and then, all of a sudden we were past the cloud cover and I hear my friend say to her husband.  “Oh my, look at that.“  I stood on tiptoe and I could see a glimpse of the sparkling city laid out, through the sea of tuk clad head and snowboards.  And it was like the cherry on the top.  Perfection.  Like I was able to deliver everything.  Even though, it wasn’t me that made the clouds open for that second, it didn’t stop the giddy happy firework feeling from exploding in my heart.  I did it.  I accomplished the impossible.  My friends got to see the view.

Posted by Meg Tilly on Saturday, December 22, 2007 in Chewing the Fat