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COLUMN: Goodbye Squamish, Thanks

Editor’s note. This is reporter Haley Ritchie’s last column with The Chief, but she will still be around town working for us until Oct. 21.
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Editor’s note. This is reporter Haley Ritchie’s last column with The Chief, but she will still be around town working for us until Oct. 21.

 

The uncertainty of coming to Squamish from Ontario as a freelancer was worth it for the feeling of awe as we drove up the Sea to Sky Highway, craning our necks, trying to stay on the road and see the top of the Stawamus Chief.

Since I started telling people I was leaving at the end of October, I’ve been met with disbelief — no one goes back to “Onterrible,” I’ve been warned. Mountains. Ocean. Do you really want to return to all that shovelling? West Coast is the best coast.

I embraced that smugness when I first arrived. Then I picked up some expensive habits: like MSP premiums, ICBC rates, inflated rent and… kombucha. That last one is all on me, I know. It was my first time living in a place where gentrification was leaving me behind.

It feels like many people I met (even when I visited Ontario) were desperate to convince themselves that the bumper sticker dreams about B.C. were true.

Over the past two years I’ve had the good fortune to find magic in unexpected places across the country — running into old friends in the Yellowknife airport, rooftop sunsets in Regina, Christmas in Kananaskis.

I’m not so sure that west coast is the best coast anymore — after all, I’ve never seen the Arctic Ocean. The sweetwater seas tug at my heartstrings. So it’s time to move on, at least for the time being.

But even in a place as breathtaking as Squamish, it’s the people, not the scenery, that I’ll miss most.

My heartfelt appreciation to every person in this town who gifted me with an idea or a good photo for this newspaper. Thank you to the old-timers who shared their stories of steamboats and trains. Wa chexw yuu to Squamish Nation elders who shared their words.

Final thanks to all the incredible people here who helped me overcome my outdoorsy self-doubt — from ice climbs to rope swings. I am furiously reading about winter camping, so I might cling to this burgeoning sense of adventure and meet you again on some trail.

So long British Columbia. It’s back to the land of lakes and snow and maple syrup for me.

I’m comforted that any return back — no matter how different this place looks — at least one thing will remain the same. That towering, awe-inspiring hunk of granite isn’t going anywhere.

 

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