It's all so EXTREME

Hard sun, hard rain.  And hard snow.  ...above the freezing level, that is.

Canadians love to talk about the weather.  It irritates my dad.  We brag about our sufferings and wear the extremes like a badge of honour when talking to friends and relations outside the reaches of our thundercloud.  The weather news throws us weather stats like candies at a parade, which we in turn throw at our friends and relations in a full-on candy-throwing war of who's got the best shot.  We've earned these badges, with awe-struck gazes out the window from our warm couch vantage points.

"They" told me when I moved here that Squamish might see a dusting or two of snow throughout the winter, but it wouldn't stick around.  In December, I went outside one evening to rescue the little trees from a potential long night of forward bending under the accumulating heavy snow:

Dec.17:  Snow falling heavily on shore pines

Dec.18: 21 cm / nearly 9 inches of snow in 24 hours, in a place that is said
to see a "dusting" or two of snow in the winter

The following morning, in solidarity with the neighbours, we worked on clearing 21 cm / nearly 9 inches of snow with dee-dee little avalanche shovels (or similar).

I didn't own a proper sidewalk-shovel - "they" indirectly told me I didn't need one!  My very nice neighbour next door eventually went out and bought one (I am picturing mad auctions and fights in in front of the Home Hardware, people bidding $1000 on the last couple of shovels remaining), and kindly helped me finish.

I own a shovel now, and have used it since.

My brother. John. recently moved to the extreme east coast (as in, he's as far east as you can possibly get in Canada), and posted photos of his snow-shoveling woes:

John: "Aaaaaah... nothing like a freshly-shovelled driveway. Such a feeling of accomplishment.
Time to go inside and pour myself a nice...oh look, time to shovel the driveway again..."

John: "UPDATE: Since there was no f***ing way on god's good earth that I was shovelling
all of that this morning, I'd like to introduce you all to my young snowblowing neighbour, Eric."

I am using some of my free time to "learn" weather.  For example, when you spot these lovely 'lenticular' - or horse tail - clouds floating in, silently unnoticed, on your initially bluebird day, it means some "weather" is coming:

Nov.30: Lenticular clouds floating over Sky Pilot Mountain - viewed from
Alpen Peak - followed (closely!) by the incoming storm

I am also contemplating, in terms of temperature extremes, which is the bigger hardship when heading out to ski:

(a) getting out of the warm car into -30C, fiddling with boots and latches and bags and fiddly bits while fingers turn white, then to useless little stumps at the end of the limbs that supposedly demonstrate the superiority of home sapiens in the animal kingdom; eventually starting off on the skis at a ridiculous pace in order to force the core furnace into high gear to pump warmth back to the extremities, resulting in screaming barfies erupting in multiple digits, then having to stop 8 minutes later to remove the now-soggy-with-sweat down jacket, the nicely-warmed core temperature plummeting as the layer of sweat suddenly freezes while stopped to pack away the jacket, then setting off again at a ridiculous pace to generate more heat, eyes freezing shut as the rapid breathing exhaust condenses, then freezes, on your eyelashes...., OR

(b) getting out of the warm car into 0C, after working up a sweat getting as dressed as possible in the car to the outer most layer in order to be water-proofed from the downpour, working on boots and fiddly bits in sole-deep mud while water streams down any unsealed opening on your being, leaving bags and bits protected in the open car until the last second as rain soaks the car interior, unable to communicate with fellow skiers due to the drowning of all sound other than the rain and the swish-swish of hoods accosting the ears; eventually carrying the skis while the shoulder cramps in its awkward ski-carrying position, until there is enough of a connected snow path to put them on and follow.

Both cases even out after the first half hour, when you've found the groove and are comfortably and steadily marching on.  But man...  Colin suggests I might be more comfortable on the couch at home.

Jan.21:  Avalanche Report - Sea-to-Sky Area

It should be noted, the skies and contemplations don't tell me everything.  Yesterday I was thinking of taking my skies up the gondola, until I saw the avy report...

Instead I stayed on the figurative couch, listening to the extreme rain pounding down while the extreme snow slabs built up in the mountains above, then went for a walk in the rain.