Lines, lines and more lines

Hey there,

Last week continued on the good news wagon. The circus troupe that I train with have given me a routine to learn and eventually perform. It is an aerial silks (the tissue hanging from the ceiling) routine with another performer. I’ve entitled the routine “2 girls, 1 silk”, but that’s just for sake of some extra hype. I assure you (to some of yours’ disappointment) that it is a family friendly routine. I am very excited to learn this routine because, once my partner and I have mastered it, the troupe will sell the act to corporate shows (special events, Christmas parties, because they can…). In this routine I am called the ‘porter’, better known as the girl who is super strong but can’t dance worth a crap. I basically catch, toss and hold onto the ‘flyer’ as she makes beautiful, artsy lines while we hang 20 feet from the ground.

This exciting news came just in time for my brother’s arrival in Vancouver. Every year, for the past 4 years, we have managed to rendezvous in a different city and attend a music festival. We share an extremely similar taste in indie-rock-alternative music so these weekends tend to be action packed. This year we got tickets to the Squamish Valley Music festival. We crammed in over 10 concerts in 3 days. Our accommodations were a little different than we have previously been accustomed to. Due to price and location, we resorted to literally setting up camp in this massive communal campground (aka Squamish Valley Secondary School’s football field). We were surrounded by hundreds of 20-year old music goers who seemed to be there more the plethora of drugs, booze and loud sex in the tiny tents than the music. Not saying that there wasn’t I time that I wouldn’t have minded the latter two but I feel like old lady waving my *tisk *tisk finger at the idea.


My brother and I much prefer to maximize our music festival time with a balance of music, tourism and physical activity. This is where we are very thankful for our Ross genetics. After an evening of enjoying ourselves (a lot), we wake up early the next day and tour the town. This year the town on the first day consisted of the top of mountain peak. We hiked our hungover butts up 650m of elevation over 2.5km of trail to the very top of the Chief for a breathtaking view of Squamish. The second day after a brilliant set of concerts we headed up to ski (and the summer time, mountain bike) central and took the gondola Peak2Peak between Whistler-Blackcomb. Did you know that those 2 mountains house 60 of Canada’s black bears? Just saying. Didn’t see any bears, but the view from the top was breath taking.

View from the top of the Chief (Squamish, BC)...upside down

View from the top of the Chief (Squamish, BC)…upside down

Now that my brother and I are veterans of the music festival scene, we showed up fairly prepared for the inevitable…lines. At music festivals, you spend the majority of your time waiting in some sort of line. Lines for your accommodation, for your security check, for your beer tickets, for your beer, for the food trucks and lines and lines for the porta-potties. We typically reserve this time for road-pops, selfies and logistical analyses. We abide by one rule when it comes to porta-pottie lines: Go when you pass by a short line even if you don’t have to go. It’s a lifesaving rule.

Between all of this line maneuvering, there are some extraordinary performances. This year, we thoroughly enjoyed July Talks, Head & the Heart, Serena Ryder, CHVRCHES, Arcade Fire, Temper Trap, The Arctic Monkeys and Eminen. The biggest surprise, hands down, was Bruno Mars. That man knows how to put on a concert. With or without the copious amounts of Somersby Cider we had, both of us were dancing and singing the entire set. Bruno Mars, “you are beautiful, just the way you are”. Can’t wait to see what next year’s festival will hold for us.

Athlete Inspired


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