On Grouse Mountain

Although I grew up in the Pacific Northwest, I've never been much into winter sports: sure, I'll slide down a slick hill, but skiing? Never been.

In Vancouver, BC, we decided to take advantage of the city's proximity to Grouse Mountain. We rented snowshoes and tromped, tromped, tromped through the snow; the trees were weighed down by a thick cloak of snow, the sun shone softly through the branches, and the Whistler Water Way felt like the whole of the cold world.