BC: The first 15 hours

I left Wayne about 8:30 on Friday evening and head to Eric’s place in Chester Springs. There are some “big powder” skiing videos on the big screen that we watch while waiting for Andrew to arrive. Andrew is a riding buddy with whom I have done some other ski trips, and Eric is also one of the Sunday morning mountain biking regulars.


Around 9:30 we shove off from Chester Springs for Lancaster.

Arriving in Lancaster we hook up at a local bar with Andrews’s boyhood friend John who drove down from the Lake Placid area. We enjoy a Guinness and some good live local music.

The trip to British Columbia is organized by the Lancaster Ski Club, which is where John and Andrew grew up. Andrew’s father and brother are also on the trip, so of the 27, we have our own little subgroup.

Around 12:30 we arrive at Andrew’s parent’s house in Lancaster for the final rendezvous before heading to the charter bus which is scheduled to depart Lancaster for Newark airport at 1:30am.

Arriving at Newark Airport (I still remember the old terminal, with its moving signs and the architectural renderings for “The New Newark Airport”) and spend too much time in the security line. (2 car rides and a bus ride so far, for those keeping track.)

The flight Fly to Vancouver was uneventful. I’m still not in a great mood though: I am not sure how my bruised rib will be, nervous about the small plane we need to take, nervous about not having skied in a year+ and nervous about the size and scope of what I am about to walk into. Suffice it to say, I don’t travel well.

Landing in Vancouver

We arrive in Vancouver, collect our luggage, go through customs, then drop our luggage off for the flight from Vancouver to Kelowna. We change a little money, grab a bite to eat and board a small turbo prop for the flight to the eastern part of British Columbia. We’ve been traveling for something like 12 hours so far.

De-planing in Kelowna

I had a seat number like 23C or something awful like that. Well, surprise, surprise; because of the cabin layout, they count the rows backwards. So my seat is not at the back of the plane, it is at the very front with decent leg room, right next to the flight attendant’s jump seat. Granted, I am facing backwards, but I do that on the train all the time, so no worries. The attendant was very friendly and turned the leg I was dreading the most into a great trip. Her French is so good that French passengers compliment her on her English without realizing that French is not her native language. By the time I stepped off the plane, the least appealing leg of the trip was done and I was starting to feel much better about things, though still dreading the slopes a bit.