Last week, I took my brake-clenching, rear-wheel-skidding ways to the TREK Dirt Series’ Whistler Camp to see if I could benefit from a little mountain bike tuition. It fit with my summer resolution, to ride, as much as I write about riding. And having worked on projects for the Whistler Mountain Bike Park and Crankworx,…
Category: lisa richardson
Can you Pee in it? The Official R-280 Arc’teryx Harness Review
Technically, you can make yourself a harness with a piece of webbing, looping it around your waist and up between your legs like a Swami belt. This might be technically possible, (props to you, pioneers of rock, for all that you did with webbing, hemp, leather boots and cojones), but it’s aesthetically ridiculous and profoundly…
What Editors Want. (Time Machines, Genius Talent and Awesomeness.)
In Vancouver, New York and Zurich, they have Creative Mornings, a monthly breakfast lecture series for creative types who can get up early. In Whistler, we’ve got The Point. It’s a slightly less hi-fi version of the urban hipster creative klatches. But well worth putting on your radar, if only because the old Youth Hostel…
5 Things My Dad Taught Me
My old man is not much given to pronouncements or proselytising or penning poetic letters of advice. He’s more of an armchair philosopher who ponders aloud such thoughts as “I wonder if the secret to marriage might be to always live in separate houses.” My response to most of the “advice” he offered in such fashion…
The poetry of mountain biking, part 2.
Over the past 12 months, I’ve logged a few hours doing trail improvements in Pemberton. Well, mostly I battle mosquitoes. And fill buckets with mineral earth to shuttle back and forth, while the people with real skills build bridges and berms and analyze lines and tell me where to go next. But the tally of…
Proof that mountain bikers can appreciate poetry.
The most particular client feedback I’ve received this year, came, unexpectedly, for copy for ads for the Whistler Mountain Bike Park. (If they’re that particular about a word, you know they really care about the dirt.) I was writing the copy for a series of ads for the Whistler Mountain Bike Park, that would pick…
Sleeping in Sitkas – In Praise of Treehouses
The first time I slept outside without a roof or a tent fly, I felt as vulnerable as a bowl of kibble. But the exhilaration of waking up to meteor streaks had me hooked. The solution? Get up off the ground where the snuffling animals roam and take to the trees. Call it a nest…
Patience, grasshopper.
Yesterday, I planted some seeds in the garden. Cold-hardy things that the seed packets promised could be started in April. I just couldn’t wait any longer. Today, I woke up and ran outside, to see if anything had happened. All the garden bed had for me (NO signs of life! no sprouts! no little seedlings!)…
Spring in Pemberton means snowmelt and… poo
The challenge? Remind dog-owners to pick up after their pooches. The solution? Ruby. Champion for the Turd-Free Trails Forever movement. I mean, how could you resist? (File this under Local Government Best Practices.)
For creative output, press V for vulnerability
Confession: I have wanted to write a book for as long as I can remember. This ambition embarrasses me – for its ridiculousness, its vagueness, its total lack of a roadmap, its audacity. For the sheer weight of it. For its unlikeliness – people are reading less and less, the world is already overflowing with…
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