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Summer here has officially started, although the weather still hasn't apparently gotten the message. I was hiking on Mt. Seymour with an Englishman from Devonshire who'd been here five months on Sunday, and he says that he'd have gotten better spring weather back home.

I was up on Seymour with the BCMC to practice some mountaineering skills, notably crevasse rescue. The forests were still a snowy winter wonderland, and some of the party went up and down the trail on skis. Backcountry skiing is something that I didn't get to try while I was here, although I'll certainly give it a shot if I'm in Eastern Canada next winter. I hadn't seen touring (Nordic) skis in action before - they're broader than normal downhill Alpine-style skis, they clip onto the boot only by the toe leaving the heels free to rise and fall in a normal walking motion, and apparently have some sort of guard on the bottom that allows them to slide forwards but not backwards. I tried some downhill skiing in the winter, and I was curious at how good skis were at getting around hiking trails. Turns out they're actually pretty good - I'm told that they can climb slopes up to forty degrees, they distribute weight in the same way as snowshoes stopping the skiier from sinking into soft snow, and make going downhill a lot (and I mean a lot) quicker and easier. In the winter here, a lot of people ski along hiking trails - it's called backcountry skiing, as it isn't on regular ski slopes with lifts and everything. More adventurous people will go on multi-day trips, or even do ski-mountaineering. Personally, I felt exposed enough on the slopes of the big mountains firmly attached to the snow with crampons and an ice-axe, find it cold and windy enough in summer let alone in winter, and find coming down those long, steep snow slopes hairy enough simply walking. It goes to show, though, how strong and lasting winter's hold on the mountains here is - even in June it can still be easier to get around some of the national and provincial parks on skis.

The good news is that I'm getting steadily fitter, more experienced and better -equipped with each trip I take. I'm still a bit wobbly walking on snow, but I was able to keep up with the skiiers and the other experienced hikers going uphill (downhill was a different story). This was also my first trip where I was wearing nothing but specifically-designed hiking and mountaineering clothes, and it made a difference. The weather was humid and the forest filled with fog and drizzle - the Devonshireman said that he felt like he was back home on Dartmoor. I'd like to get up there again sometime when it clears up. I also like North Vancouver more and more every time I visit it.

Certainly it reminded me that mountaineering is both a difficult and dangerous sport. One of the topics that came up was the recent fatality on the Ingraham Glacier on Rainier. Two parties of ten and a solo climber ignored the rangers' avalanche warning and went for the summit - when the inevitable avalanche came they were able to pull out the groups that were roped together in time, but not the solo guy. I can't believe that someone would have taken that sort of risk. It's of some concern to me seeing as I'll be going up Rainier myself in July, but conditions should have improved by then.

One of the people helping us with the practice had just come back from a trip to try and climb Mt. Logan in the Yukon - the highest peak in Canada and the second-highest in North America. His group was on the mountain for 23 days, but were still turned back from the summit by the weather. That, I think, is taking the sport further than I want to go with it.

Otherwise my time is occupied by cleaning and out and bedding the mink pens - it's a never-ending job at this time of year. Eventually they'll all be split out into their own pens with wire floors and a box to sleep in, but until then they need their floorboards cleaned and fresh hay almost every day.