I’ve only been here six months, but it’s now home. When friends visit, I love to show off the sights of Squamish.
And they’re always in awe.
Even to those who already live amidst stunning B.C. mountains, Squamish is a place unlike any other, a mystical location touching the ocean, surrounded by snowcapped peaks and laced with enticing hiking trails. My visitors are immediately entranced.
Before I accepted the job as editor last fall, I visited Squamish for a few days. I hiked a bit, took hundreds of scenic photos, then raved about the town to the front desk clerk at the local hotel where I was staying. She told me that Squamish was a place where the worlds were colliding, where the mountains and sea join, where there is a force of energy that is propelling people forward.
It sounded hippy-ish, maybe even a little flakey, but I completely understood what she meant.
Now that I have been here a while, I still feel the same enchantment, and the energy of Squamish is evident. People here are passionate about their beliefs and engaged in the community. When I ask for readers to send in photos or letters for our pages, I am usually deluged with responses. This is a sign of engagement, of a community that loves to participate and be part of the dialogue to move things forward. For an editor, it’s part of the dream location.
But when visitors come, of course I show them the recreational side of our little paradise. I recently took a friend to the Murrin Loop trail, an easy hike that leads to two spectacular viewpoints of Howe Sound, including the Quercus Lookout, where you feel on top of the world.
We also went up the Sea to Sky Gondola, where business has picked up as the summer season begins. After a short wait in the lineup, we were whisked up almost 3,000 feet to a summit lodge with a sunny deck. Of course, we enjoyed a glass of wine and the view.
With other visitors this month, I have ventured up the Stawamus Chief, Smoke Bluffs, and the rainforest trails of Valleycliffe that look like a mystical set for The Hobbit, with moss-covered branches lining a path along the river.
The only problem is that my guests never want to leave. I have no doubt that all will return.
We’re the lucky ones who get to live here full-time.
