Firsts, Lasts, and the Nonsense in Between: Following One's Friends Off Cliffs

Remember when you were a kid and all your friends were doing something really cool and for that very reason you wanted to do it too? Obviously, you have to ask your parents' permission, "But pleeassee, please, all my friends are doing it" and they'd look back, smile sweetly, and say, "Now sweety, just because all your friends are doing it, doesn't mean that you need to be doing it. If your friends jumped off a cliff, would you jump off too?" Grumpy, angry faces ensue.

Anyway, I here provide 2 occasions where I have indeed followed friends, or at least acquantainces, to cliffs, and ended up having the time of my life.

The Cliff off of "Couloir", Whistler BC

So it takes me about 45 minutes and 5 chairlifts to get to the top of Whistler (the main lift was closed). I do my usual warmup run, and then back up Peak Chair to the cliffs. I see two younger kids start to hike up this passage way in back and under a rope. I follow. They slide around behind the rope to the top of the cliff, shimmy down the edge, and then back under the rope. I... follow hesitantly. They leap across a few rocks over the other side of the cliff and down into a huge bowl of open untouched powder snow, and speed, with powder snow flying off their skis. And then I, probably quite undaintely, step over these rocks, and follow my new best-friends (whom I never spoke a word to) off a cliff into the wonder that is fresh powder snow.

(p.s. To firsts - picture posting! This is just off to the left of Peak Chair, a cliff that was probably about half as steep as the one I just described. But look at all that snow!)

The Cliff that hosts Montmorency Falls

So it's time for another road trip, with my usual adventure buddies. But I swear, after a Friday night of drinking, an early wakeup to explore Quebec city Carnaval (including mini-putt in the snow, sledding, ice palaces, and enough poutine to feed a small country), I'm not going to lie, I'm tired, and a bit whiny about visiting a dinky little waterfall. How far a drive is it? Do I have to get out of the car? Highway 440? Ugh. But I am overpowered by the enthusiasm that is JK and we're off. I'm sorry, did I say dinky waterfall? This is a CLIFF! So I admit I was wrong, and proceed to follow the pedestrian accessible path (ahem, see photo) toward the base of the waterfall. (In case you can't tell, that's me with my legs flailing in the air over the "do not enter" gate and Steph saving my life)