With fishing lines dipping into the glassy ocean, we sat and waited. Boredom brought the lines up from the depths to check the bait that would slip back into the abyss with our hopes firmly attached to the lures. Then we drift some more with the only sound of the trolling engine pushing us on a meandering course.
Chris Wheeler says he lives in Whistler but I’m willing to bet he spends more time on the road than he does at home. Wait, let me rephrase that. He spends more time on the trails, in the water, on a horse or on a bike.
There's something magical about waterfalls. From hearing roaring water from a distance to up close and personal, each waterfall is wonderfully unique. They intrigue us, inspire us, and are one of nature's greatest beauties.
"This," said Jessie the guide "is your holy crap strap. If you go over, pull it!" That all-important strap was stitched to the front of the spray-skirt, which would shortly be attached to my kayak – a kayak soon to be launched into heavy seas just off the shores of Vancouver Island.