Last week I wrote a hella boring post called Hollyburn, because Hollyburn was hella boring. (https://lawnchairair.wordpress.com/2015/04/05/hollyburn/) Everyone complained the hike was too short and that although snow wallpapered the area, nothing beyond hiking boots were needed. Since then, I also got an iphone from my friend, which invalidates every picture I’ve taken with my previous piece of junk.
There are a lot of hikes up the Cypress ski area, but none of the mountains are called Cypress. Go figure. Just Hollyburn, Black, and Strachan.
Introducing Mt. Strachan, with its infamous Christmas Gully (with pictures from iPhone®):
Cypress is seriously a weirdass place. On the way back, they transplanted a gigantic green water tank, the size of three elephants stacked on top of one another. Water gushed ominously out of the green bolts. Oh wait-that wasn’t the same route we came up. That’s right. It was always there-we just didn’t chance upon it on our way up. You think you Cypress, but then you really don’t. You walk on a ski run and don’t recognize it until someone reminds you of the fact and you slap yourself out of your silliness. You sit in the city asking the rainclouds to go away, and then arrive knee deep in snow like a baby that wonders why water is wet. You rent crampons to walk up a place called Christmas Gully, then wonder why no one advised you to bring snowshoes in the next leg of the journey. Maybe someone decided a long time ago that they’d make Cypress as unpredictable as possible. Maybe not.
Bikers, hikers, tourists, families alike take the trek up Cypress. If you’re lucky, you’ll end up in a car full of cool people who obey the speed limit. But more often than not, whatever you dreamed it would be is far less interesting than the reality. Or far better-feel freeze to have made it up Mt. Strachan with frozen toes and frozen fingers and frozen food.
Hella interesting, hella fun.