6:10AM, Asleep on the bus to Whistler
Yep…it’s DARK at 5:00 here in the north, northwest. And it was raining. We had our tickets for the bus, but Susan was going to have to be a stowaway. It was touch and go, but they didn’t kick her off and we all arrived at Whistler Village at 8:30, just in time to get tickets for the biathalon.
Another 45 minute, far less comfortable, bus ride to the Olympic Center plus a long hike uphill to the viewing stands got us to the start at 11:30. I’d never attended (and probably will never again see) a biatholon relay: each member of a cross country ski team team of four skis 7.4 km interrupted by 3 precision shooting challenges. They have to go at full speed, “skating” up and down nasty terrain, then stop, force their heart rates down, shoot five targets (or ski a penalty lap). I was tired from merely walking up the hill and continuously trying to wedge my feet sideways into the slippery slope where we all stood.
Trying to stay on the slippery mountain!
We completely forgot that it was raining/snowing as the animated commentators described the event in three languages. Cowbells clattered, flags were waved with vigor and the HUGE television screen kept us posted on all the skiing beyond our scope of vision. Norway clearly took the gold but the silver and bronze battled fiercely (did we tell you that when a team member finishes their segment they TOTALLY collapse? The first time I saw it, I thought one had died like some sort of expired insect) . It was a photo finish – .2 seconds – one quarter ski length separated them.
Lunch in Whistler Village was as much a need for warmth as food. We loved the Mongolie Grill where you choose your own components and they stir fry them with great flourish. We then rode back down the mountain in soggy jackets, frozen mittens and hats you could ring out. I do NOT recommend this method to treat a cold. On the way home, we stopped at USA House to share our adventures with our friends, picked up dinner and took the ferry home to Granville Island. I’m sure we looked like drowned river rats. Robitussin straight out of the bottle was the after dinner drink of choice.
