With trail running growing in popularity over the past several years resulting to an increase of runners gravitating toward a more forgiving surface and a meditative atmosphere, it was time for me to put my inner trail-seeking adventures to the test.
With trail running growing in popularity over the past several years resulting to an increase of runners gravitating toward a more forgiving surface and a meditative atmosphere, it was time for me to put my inner trail-seeking adventures to the test.
A family trip to the Great White North proved to be just what I needed to explore some of the most beautiful single-track, hiking, and mountain biking trails of varying terrain, difficulty and distance of the British Columbia area.
We began our 17-day adventure with a quick stop in Vancouver, taking full advantage of the pedestrian, running and biking pathways along the waters surrounding Granville Island and Stanley Park.
I must say, the planning and thoughtfulness of both government and community members to pull off such an incredible pedestrian, cycling and family-friendly environment was unbelievable. The ease of access to health and fitness opportunities was truly inspiring.
This prompted me to enter a local trail race that had me running through 6-miles of Central Park in Burnaby, known for it’s beautiful hard-packed gravel trails, well preserved temperate rainforest ecosystem and diverse wildlife. Being surrounded by such beauty, I nearly forgot that I won the female division as my adventurous spirit longed to experience more trails out of the ordinary.
From there, we headed over to the bustling and vibrant alpine village north of Vancouver called Whistler – more popularly known as Whistler Blackcomb – home to one of the largest ski resorts in North America and the host venue for the alpine skiing events to the 2010 Vancouver Winter Olympics.
Whistler and Blackcomb are mountains situated on two ridgelines running roughly northwest to southeast and separated by a deep valley. Running along the valley floor is a glacier fed stream known as Fitzsimmon’s Creek, and at its base lies Whistler Village, a compact, chalet-style pedestrian village featuring countless eateries, retail shops, lodging, live entertainment, and the beautiful Valley Trail.
Whistler’s Valley Trail is what I imagined to be every runner and cyclists’ dream. A non-motorized network of paved, gravel and boardwalk trails stretching nearly 25 miles while connecting Whistler’s signature lakes, parks, and neighborhoods.
For local residents, the Valley Trail is an integral zero-emissions transport artery throughout Whistler and for visiting guests like me, a most breathtaking way to venture out and explore towering rain forests, panoramic vistas of Whistler’s unique wilderness, glacier fed lakes and streams, with picturesque snow-capped Whistler and Blackcomb mountains as the backdrop.
Higher up on the hillside of the Valley Trail, we stumbled upon numerous hiking and mountain biking pathways that traverse throughout Whistler and Blackcomb. Depending on the degree of difficulty, the varying trails are color coded to cater to all fitness levels – from beginners to expert technical riders, runners and hikers looking for an overall off-road adventure.
Green identified the most gentle of terrains – undulating hills over wide, hard packed gravel pathways, while trails colored blue on the map featured more of a tight and twisty single track. Black however, was the beast of all terrains. Gnarly, root-strewn lines, steep rock faces, narrow wooden bridge-like paths with sharp S-turns, and heart thumping vertical drops.
After a day testing out my new Scarpa trail shoes and CamelBak hydration pack on varying terrain ranging from green to blue, I decided to put myself through the ultimate test – The Northface Valley to Peak Trail Race.
The third annual event featured a full vertical climb of Whistler Mountain standing at 7,156 feet. The 14-mile grueling off-road footrace began in the valley at Whistler Village then climbed through the dusty and rocky Whistler Mountain Bike Park, through the forest, and up to the Roundhouse Lodge.
After a quick descent toward Harmony Lake, runners traversed over the iconic High Note Trail to the Peak of Whistler Mountain before taking the final descent to the finish line at the Roundhouse Lodge. Total cumulative elevation gain registered at nearly 6,000 feet.
While I had not done any off-road training runs other than short bi-weekly runs pushing a double stroller over the hard pavement of Alii Drive – the thought of finally getting a chance to run over epic single tracks, with mind-blowing views and crisp alpine air awaiting, had me standing at the base of Whistler mountain with over a 100 ambitious mountain goats.
And luckily for me, a local racer shared some sound advice before the start of the race.
“Stay on the marked trail, if in doubt call out to the nearest runner,” he said. “You’ll quickly learn that you need to choose your battles – sometimes power hiking over the steeper sections is way faster than trying to grind it out running. Oh and one last thing. Keep calm should you see a black bear.”
I typically don’t get nervous before any race. But the thought of possibly going off the marked course and yes, the big possibility of coming across a wild bear in its natural habitat pushed me way out of my comfort zone and had my heart rate soaring to the max. The race hadn’t even begun yet.
“But don’t worry,” he added. “The views from atop make it all worthwhile. It will be an experience you’ll never forget.”
Before I knew it, the race horn sounded and off we went.
I was surprised to find that the first 100-yards already had me out of breath. It was a descent climb heading up the mountain access dirt road of the Whistler Mountain Bike Park, yet my lungs burned while I struggled to find good footing to avoid slipping. I thought that if this felt hard now, then I’m in big trouble.
However, up and up we went, zigzagging over loose dirt and rocks that turned into an undulating and twisty single-track that snaked its way up through the forest. While I wanted to take in all of the wilderness around me, I opted to keep my eyes firmly focused on my feet as I bunny hopped over gnarled roots and rocks that seemed to be coming out of nowhere.
When I finally found some sort of rhythm that seemed to work in keeping me upright, we reached the halfway point at the Roundhouse Lounge. My thighs and calves burned and screamed for me to stop, but I was happy to learn that I was running in third in the highly competitive female division – just the motivation I needed to keep me going.
Shortly after, the course turned into a massive descent. All of my weight was now solely dependent on my quads to keep me from falling face first and it was hard to find a rhythm. I slowed to what seemed to be a snail’s pace, shuffling from rock to rock, while other more confidant runners began flying by me at every turn.
And once I made it to the infamous High Note Trail, the real suffering began.
The trail, designated black on every map, transitioned into a rocky and technical grind with steep drop offs on one side while climbing nearly vertical in several sections. Yet at the same time, the course opened up to awe-inspiring views of the surrounding Coastal Mountains, ancient glaciers and volcanic landscape, wildflower filled slopes and the beaming turquoise waters of Cheakamus Lake below.
Trying to jog through this 5.8-mile section was truly torturous in every way. Every moment that I tried to capture a glimpse of the vast beauty that surrounded me was met with a stumble over a rock, slippage over loose dirt, and superficial scrapes on my hands and legs while power hiking through large boulders.
There was one point on High Note that I considered quitting. A rope-assist section to shimmy over a metal plank between two steep rock faces on one side with a plummeting drop into the forest below on the other had my palms sweating and me wondering why in the world I was doing this. But I made it though and after finally grinding it out to the summit of Whistler, the feelings of accomplishment made it totally worth it.
A quick descent back to finish at the Roundhouse Lounge had me feeling like a true champion. It didn’t matter that I placed 17th among the women and finished over an hour after the first female. What mattered was that I survived my first hard-core trail running event, an experience that I’ll never forget.