The story of finding our Maui house…our second one, that is…is one of pigs and princesses, lies and laggards, drama and dollars. Buy me a beer and I’ll tell you the whole tale, but suffice it to say, the neighbour of home #1 turned out to be a stinky pig…literally…and some tricky negotiation ensued to minimize our losses. For a time, we were the mostly happy holders of two Maui estates.

But what matters is that after two weeks of strategizing and hunting and stressing since setting foot on the island, we took hold of our palace (and our new Honda Odyssey, but that’s another frightful story of day and night creatures, with a happy ending!):

Ocean view from the lanai:

Living room. Yes, that’s a $1,400 digital piano we managed to snag for pennies as a side benefit of the pig fiasco!

Deluxe kitchen, fully/over equipped thanks to a doctor moving to the mainland who sold his whole kitchen to us for $100 (all dishes, copper bottom pots and pans, electric bottle opener, quesadilla maker, deep fryer, specialty knives, etc., etc.):

BedROOM (ensuite with his and hers sinks, shower, and huge tub not shown):

Backyard:

Besides the 3 other bedrooms, there’s Elias’ "special room" (under the stairs):

And possibly best of all, for the next five months we live less than two minutes from some of the best beaches on Maui (Kamaole I, II, & III)!

The kids toss and tumble in the waves and create in the sand in the morning, and later, while they nap back at home, Asheya & I run down again for snorkeling with the fish and turtles and rays.

A location independent career, which is my goal, makes so many fantastic life swaps possible. Swap the effort of finding tenants to rent the furnished home you own for renting nice homes and living almost anywhere in the world. Swap heating costs for the cost of airfare. Swap the cost of escaping winter on a short vacation for exploring and indulging around your new perma-vacation home. Living a "luxury" life then can cost not much more than living the life already known.

Nov. 16th we spent the day in transit, Whitehorse to Vancouver to Maui, through a 41degC differential. Our Kihei condo keeps the kids busy with a nice pool, park, and small beach while we run like crazy around the island setting up our new life.

We drive almost literally all around the island every day looking at and negotiating houses, vans, getting setup with groceries and furniture, and playing. Kihei to Kahului to Makawao to Pa’ia to Kahului to Wailuku to Napili to Lahaina to Wailuku to Kihei…

House hunting in green and cool upcountry Makawao, on Haleakala’s shoulder:

House hunting in manicured Wailea, golf and beach capital of the world:

House hunting in central Wailuku:

We were offered a well-kept home in groovy Pa’ia, and a 3500sqft palace in wet/lush Haiku, but settled on a fair home in Wailuku (temporarily?) with a great green belt and playground just steps away.

Time for a nap!

Time for play…

…and time for bed.

Alsek valley, you are so fine! And I will oh so miss you.

That’s right, our plans are fixed–I’m resigning from my job Nov. 14 and we fly to Maui Nov. 16, to weather the winter in the grass, water, and sun. Remarkably, the cost of living is comparable to Whitehorse. As Asheya will never subject herself to another Yukon winter, and I won’t have a job to return to, we may move to Vancouver on our return, to be closer to family and business clients & partners.

So I knew this trip would be one of my last in this beautiful land.

The trail/road pushes 30km into Kluane between two large mountain groups, along the Dezedeash river.

I really wanted to get around the toe of one of the mountains, to see the confluence of the Dezedeash and the Alsek rivers. Starting late in the day, and without bike repair supplies, at 20km I decided the wise thing was to return. After a break, I began to turn my wheel to start back…and at the last second veered to continue forward along the trail. I had to see what was around that mountain!

And I am so happy I did, because the wide open valley and near and distant mountains at the confluence of the rivers brought a deep peace to my soul.

I biked the return 20+km a happy, happy man.

Earlier this month, Shana & I headed towards Samuel Glacier in Tatshensheni/Alsek Provincial Park, one of my favourite places in the world. Ominous clouds in the direction of Haines, Alaska changed our plans and sent us to the friendly blue skies in the Kluane Lake direction, and we decided instead to hike Slims River Valley West.

The hike is along a braided river in a mighty valley that owes itself to the Kaskawulsh Glacier, the most photographed feature in Kluane.

At the Kluane visitor information centre, they ran through the list of hazards: raging creek crossings, grizzly habitat, sink holes, quick mud (the river gets its name from the horse that sunk dead), route finding, giardia, hypothermia, etc… Overdramatic?

The couple of chilly knee-high creek crossings were interesting, but easily managed in this late season:

With three days, one can climb Observation Mountain to an apparently awesome view of this glacier. Leaving at 3:00pm, and only having one night, we knew we’d only get part way, which happened to be about 15km in, which was plenty of distance to see many grizzly bear signs and perhaps a few of the bears themselves hanging out in the distant waters.

I’m sorry to report, my knee has started to really hurt while hiking this year, and I had to limp straight-legged for about 25 of the kilometers…my fears that an old injury (broken tibia near the growth plate 15 years ago) might come back to haunt me may be coming true. Ah well, I’ll enjoy it while i can.

I want to tell you about Slim’s River, but first I’ll recap the last few months.

First stop, Ottawa, visit with family, and late nights.

Second stop, Montreal, my brother’s wedding, crêpes in the old port, and late nights.

This trip added a new life goal to my list: a summer in Montreal.

Back to Whitehorse, and off to Vancouver with our new amazing au pair from Scotland:

Immediately on the rock:

Visit with Asheya’s cool boss on the Sunshine Coast for some crabbing:

Expedition up William’s Peak in Chilliwack:

A visit with my old friend Mt. Garibaldi near Squamish/Whistler (I hadn’t been expecting winter camping—it’s obviously been a colder summer):

Other manly pursuits:

A half dozen business meetings in downtown Vancouver and around each week.

And play play play.

Farewell to Emma and hello to Shana, our new and also wonderful au pair from Germany, in time for the 30+ hour drive home:

Wow, that was a pretty awesome summer, and I haven’t even said it all. Thanks in particular to Emma, Mom & Dad, Claire, Ashton, and Shana for making it so.

I’ve been on a musical journey (and I don’t mean of the Sound of Music variety). It started as a side-effect of my life-altering transformation on a Hawaiian volcano at 10,000 ft back in January.

It goes something like this [if you don’t care for the details, skip to the song list at the end]:

Music permeates our world, flowing through the air as electromagnetic and pressure waves, pulsing from our cars, our stores, our home sound systems. Our culture and the people in our lives use it to speak, and it speaks of the present and the past.

Until January, the music of our era (1960’s and on) passed through me generally unimpeded, only sometimes leaving me changed in small ways. I’ve been semi-purposefully blind to the present, choosing the aristocratic music of past centuries to be my musical life. My piano has been my treasured tool for exploring that world.

But I’ve decided to let all music that enters be held, influence, and be categorized. And fortunately I have another treasured tool for exploring this new world.

In 2004, Asheya & I went into a small music store in Victoria in search of her first proper guitar. She played through their display, and sitting a few feet in front of her, I critiqued the sound of each. At one point, she pulled down an attractive model and started to play, and I was unexpectedly stunned. The sound was so rich and full, it was definitely ten times superior to any other guitar in the whole store. The guitar had a beautiful light Canadian Sitka Spruce top and classy clear pickguard, was already equipped with a pickup, and came with a good hardcase. It was a Larrivée, which has a noble reputation for precise quality craftsmanship, and this model was made in their Vancouver factory, which was known for even greater care in the art and science of its manufacture. This guitar totally spoke to me; I felt like it was a piece of me.

Asheya found the right, unique guitar for her. Not having a lot of money, I hinted to Asheya I’d really like to have the Larrivée. I wanted a portable instrument to be able to share music, since pianos are a little bit difficult to carry around. And I believe in having the right professional tool to inspire the learning of a new craft, a belief that grew out of realizing I learned piano because I loved the resonant sound of the acoustic piano, and probably would never have been inspired to invest the hours to learn on an electric. But I knew hardly a chord on guitar at that time, so investing the money was a stretch from one perspective.

She essentially resisted the idea, so in disappointment I let the idea drop…little did I know she snuck to the store and bought it as a future gift for me. That was a bizarre surprise, since I had gone through the mini painful process of letting it go and moving on. But once the shock wore off, happiness set in, and I’ve been nothing but happy with my new friend since.

For those interested, here are the specs: “All Solid wood Construction, Single Piece Mahogany Neck, Canadian Sitka Spruce Sound Board & Bracing, African Ebony Fretboard & Bridge, Canadian Maple Body Binding, Sapele Back & Sides, Symmetrical Parabolic X-Bracing, Hand fit Dovetail Neck Joint, Rounded Larrivee Headstock, White Inlaid Larrivee Logo, Multi-Strip Inlaid Rosette, Ping Tuners w/ 18:1 Ratio, Ivoroid Fretboard Binding, Exclusive Beveled Tortis pickguard, Microdot Fretboard Markers.”

Three kids, two houses, and numerous businesses later, I’ve put some small batches of time into learning and enjoying the guitar, but not in a prolonged serious way. The piano still owns most of my musical time.

But finally, finally, my new relationship with modern music, combined with some circumstances that have left me with evening time that I have no desire to spend elsewhere, have allowed me to finally make the guitar and the music my own.

All this to say, here’s my current favoured guitar repertoire:

• Guess Who, Various (especially These Eyes; these guys are so great!)
• Neil Young, Harvest Moon (the perfect love song, and a good challenge with harmonics, fast unique chord progressions, and a specific strumming pattern)
• Cat Stevens, Father and Son (never heard this before a recommendation, but a great powerful song)
• Leonard Cohen, Hallelujah (my maturation into bar chords via the F)
• Lynyrd Skynyrd, Sweet Home Alabama (unremarkable lyrics besides the well known chorus, but has fun riffs)
• Van Morrison, Brown Eyed Girl
• Gordon Lightfoot, If You Could Read My Mind
• Scott McKenzie, San Francisco
• Barenaked Ladies, If I Had a Million Dollars
• Kenny Rogers, The Gambler (for all the gambling I do…)
• The Animals, House of the Rising Sun (…not do)

Let me know what you like to play or hear, and if you want to jam.

The song says it all. Know it? Been there? It’s astounding, have a listen & share.

You know it’s been a cold winter when it gets to 0 deg and…

On a related subject, it’s been decided we’ll be skipping winter again next year…and likely many years to follow. Mental and physical health of family are too important to compromise.

Where will we go? We’re pondering the delicious menu, do know what we’d like, but have yet to decide the course.

My Happy New Year was spent on an island paradise. My supportive work, my family, and fate aligned to give me the gift of attending an important conference on Maui.

The conference was held at the Sheraton in Ka’anapali near Lahaina in West Maui. Black Rock (Pu’u Keka’a) could be clearly seen from my room—a large outcropping of lava rock, it’s known as one of the best snorkelling locations on the island, and the Sheraton is actually built right around and on top of this rock:

From the pool, vast Ka’anapali beach is a few steps away, offering a handy occupation on post-conference afternoons:

Looking back after snorkelling and diving in a half dozen of the top recommended destinations around the island (Kahekili, Ulua, ‘Ahihi Cove, Dumps, …), snorkelling around Black Rock was without equal.

Take five steps into the water, and as soon as your head dips below the surface, the previously hidden world of the fishes appears. You can float lightly over the sand, explore the vertical rock shelf to increasing depths, round the corner into rougher seas and float over extensive coral at various depths, and ultimately find yourself a complete foreigner in deep waters with the looming lava dropping from the surface down into the distant sand, with excellent visibility revealing the turtles, fevers of spotted rays, and schools of fish meandering by.

One can then warm basking on the rock, surveying the slumbering neighbour islands, and culminate the afternoon cliff diving into twilight…which was so much fun.

Now start the evening with a Mai Tai…

…or two…

…or…

(I made sure to do my sleeping not much outside of between 2:00am and 7:00am to fit in the maximum goodness.)

Following the conference, I explored the remote north-west arc of the island, of which the Nakalele Blowhole, Olivine Pools, and brutal waves were the highlights.

Next was a sampling of the world famous southern beaches. Big Beach should have been called Grand Beach. Dumps had some very interesting snorkelling/swimming, with the power of the waves pushing and pulling you more than 10 feet in each direction with every surge, amidst hundreds of fish of every colour and description, like being roughly rocked together in a snowglobe-aquarium. And dodging around the jagged rock while in the push and pull of the surge was a lot like slalom skiing.

And then? Along the lush, winding, narrow Road to Hana, with its dozens of waterfalls.

Past Hana there is a one-of-a-kind hike called the Pipiwai Trail that pushes up the Kipahulu Gap past waterfall after waterfall, and through bamboo forests, to end at the towering 400ft Waimoku Falls. Only half way around the island and already at 3:30pm, with the reportedly sketchiest part of the drive ahead (overhanging rock, one lane, no pavement, barren with no civilization), I ran the 3-5h hike in 1h, regrettably missing a swim in the so-called Seven Sacred Pools (‘Ohe’o Gulch) and in the infinity pool at the top of 200ft Makahiku Falls. It’s a ridiculous comparison, like comparing the beauty of two angels, but for mid-waterfall pools, the Kuang Si waterfalls in Laos are still unrivalled in my mind.

What else was on the list? A 20km hike through Haleakala’s crater at 10,000ft of course!

There were at least two alien species in the crater: silverswords…

…and…

I don’t know if it was the altitude, or the sudden solitude (the only people I saw was the group near the top heading into the cabin, and the group near the bottom coming out of the cabin), or the accumulation of adventure-days, but I had an out-of-mind experience that is essentially life-changing (sorry, that’s all I’m going to say!).

Part way along I realized why the perspective of the horizon looked so unusual…being at such a high altitude, with the water so near, meant that the ocean filled a shockingly large portion of the sky. You can get a sense of this from my favourite photo here:

Now it’s getting almost silly how many of the “top tourist activities” I fit into my short time…I even made it to the summit in time for the coveted sunset.

It’s a funny fact that it was here, on Maui, that I experienced the coldest wind in my life (remember, I live in the Yukon).

Lifelong memories in hand, with a new story to tell, it was time to say farewell.

The days were longer, the air was warmer, and the land was dry when I set out for Sheep-Bullion Plateau one fine October afternoon.

Pleasant and encouraging welcomes always cheer the heart of the solitary traveller:

If I ranked my hikes, this would be a 10 out of 10. I treasure the variety of scenery and openness of terrain and far prefer this hike to its nearby sister, Sheep Mountain, which I visited a few years past.

The first perspective of the vast Slims River Valley, in fall dress:

Three hikers passed below me (see the three tiny specs at the bottom of the next photo), presumably returning from the Kaskawulsh Glacier up the valley. This distant encounter provided my sole human companionship:

Sheep on…well, Sheep Mountain:

Fresh bear tracks—the light dust was still peaked between his toes:

Remains from the Cold War:

The valley & Kaskawulsh Glacier, perspective #2:

The glacier snout:

Many shifts of terrain:

And wide open spaces (it’s a long hike):

My first soapberry picking excursion—apparently my technique of thrashing the bush with my bucket below is almost traditional.

Home again, Eowyn’s expression at the resulting so-called “Indian Ice Cream” is just about right:

Well, that was a pleasant memory jaunt on a cold –33 degree eve…a reminder of some of the benefits of living in the Yukon.