In the clouds

Two hours of driving, a million miles away.

Up bright and early on Tuesday, we set off on a road trip to Whistler.  There's a big adventure in store.  One minute we're in a village with the clouds lowering and, the next - well, after a gondola ride -  we're here on Whistler Mountain: above the clouds and looking out over the mountains.

And more mountains.

Another gondola ride across the valley takes us to Blackcomb Mountain.  Here, we happen across a hoary marmot, suntanning on the rocks.  These marmots make a whistling sound which explains the name, Whistler.

Then a chairlift ride to the top.  Where it's still winter.

And there are more mountains.

A painter takes advantage of the gorgeous day for some plein air artistry.

And there are more mountains and stunning views.

We ride down the chairlift, then hop on another, and yet another as we float gently down the mountain to the village.  I hadn't been on a chairlift for almost 40 years and had uneasy memories of having to jump and run.  But I needn't have fretted - it's all so controlled, slow and safe now.  I could have ridden the chairs all day.  Just sitting in the sunshine, with nothing but blue sky, birds singing, tall trees and rocks.  Often there are carpets of flowers below and it's quiet.   Really, really quiet.

In the village, there are hundreds of  these bike warriors just off the mountain trails, covered in mud and dressed in armor.  Apparently, this guy has already been through the bike wash.

 
A closer view of  some red flowers that we have yet to identify.  This was taken from the chair with a zoom - we never did get close to them.
Tomorrow is another day.  And an even bigger adventure.