For those of you who have just arrived, welcome to Whistler.
I might as well let you know from the get-go that you're never going to want to leave this place.
It only gets better from here on in. Trust me.
I'll admit that it may seem a little gloomy right now. That's to be expected.
This is the hardest time of the year, the so-called shoulder season. Summer has just ended and we're biding our time now until the hill opens.
If you've just arrived you'll be pounding the pavements looking for a job. It's not an enviable position. There are hordes of people after the same jobs and answering the same inane questions interview after interview.
The good news is that it won't last long. There are jobs aplenty in Whistler, from waitressing to dishwashing to being a liftie. Pretty soon you'll be working four jobs just to make ends meet, so enjoy your free days while you can.
Until that time it can be a little heart wrenching watching the pennies slowly trickle away, waiting for that first precious paycheque.
Not to worry though because a steady diet of beer, Kraft Dinner and Mr. Noodles throughout the month of November has never killed anybody in the past.
Looking for a place to live is another matter. People have almost died out of the sheer frustration of finding a small clean corner to lay down their head at night.
Getting a room for rent is the eternal problem in Whistler.
My landlord is renting his house for the winter season and got about 60 phone calls within three hours of the listing going up on the Web.
Now he has the unenviable task of choosing someone.
It's overwhelming.
You may have to share a room. Your may have to share a bed. You may have to surf on a coach. Your may even resort to claiming some floor space as your own for the winter.
Some say that's the life of a ski bum, the price you have to pay to live in Whistler. It seems a bit exorbitant.
The municipality has been scratching their heads for a while over this one. Still, there are never enough beds to go around come November.
Try not to despair. I know that's easy for me to say from the comfort of my cozy home. But finding a place to lay your head will become secondary to finding fresh powder once the hill opens.
Admittedly without a job or a room this gloomy weather can seem all the more oppressive and unrelenting.
You may want to stay huddled indoors, watching movies, moaning about the weather but get used to it. It rains a lot here.
I learned pretty quickly that complaining about the rain in Whistler is futile.
The November rain in the valley means it's snowing up top, and that's the all-consuming thought at this time of year.
True enough, it's hard to get excited about being at the best ski hill in North America when the view of the mountains only extends about 50 vertical feet.
You may even question your decision to be in Whistler. Don't.
It'll all become clear when the mountain opens next weekend.
It did for me.
I remember heading up the gondola on Whistler's opening weekend, with a kind of nervous dread and uncontrollable excitement about strapping on a snowboard for the first time.
That gondola ride was daunting and I knew I was out of my element.
I felt like an idiot.
Was it only three weeks ago that I was safe and comfortable in the hustle and bustle of city life?
How did I get to be atop this mammoth mountain yawning before me with a slippery board attached to my feet?
What the hell was I doing in Whistler? I muttered to myself more than once that first day.
I didn't know how to work my bindings. They were a complete mystery. I didn't know how to stand up. I didn't know how to turn.
I didn't know a lot.
It took an hour to get down the first run.
Those first few weekends we were on the hill for six or seven hours every single day off. It was sore. It was cold. It was frustrating. There was many a cursed word under my breath and a few tantrum-like kicks to my snowboard.
When I wasn't drinking beer to dull the pain, I was popping Ibuprofen pills.
It hardly seems appealing does it?
And then it clicked and I was snowboarding. I no longer felt like an imposter.
I felt that maybe I could get used to this place despite the fact that I still managed to get lost in the village all the time. (It continues to baffle me if I'm not paying attention.)
It was a nice feeling. I felt like I fit in, like I had found my niche.
All the worries I had about coming to Whistler were gone after living here for only a few weeks.
Even though I can now arguably snowboard, (it's not always the most graceful thing to observe) there are still tons of Whistler quirks that are not quite clear to me even after living here for a year.
And that's the beauty of Whistler.
You jump in with both feet. You get involved. You might not understand the way things work at first but you soon find out.
It's daunting but in the end it's worth it.
You have a lot of laughs along the way and collect too many stories to tell. Pretty soon you'll never want to leave.
I don't.
Now if only I could afford to stay...
