My first memory of Squamish is from the summer of 1975.
I was in the back of my parents’ 50s Land Rover when we stopped for gas and ice cream on the way to camp near Pemberton.
Squamish seemed such a long way from our home in Duncan, on Vancouver Island, (the Sea to Sky Highway was twisty and treacherous back then), but the town seemed oddly familiar as well.
At the time, both Duncan and Squamish were small, forestry-based towns. My parents worked at a pulp and paper mill on the Island, so many of the sights and smells of Squamish reminded me of home.
I loved logger sports then and still do today.
My next Squamish memory involves a girl named Leah Waldron who moved from Squamish to Duncan when we were both eight years old. She was very homesick and talked a lot about the “hills” and trees in Squamish and how much she missed them. I wondered why, if Squamish was so great, she didn’t just move back. Of course now, with kids of my own, I understand both why she couldn’t move back – parents’ jobs and all – and why she missed her hometown so much.
No one in Duncan, I believe, would deny Squamish is a far more spectacular place.
Eventually I moved from the Island to the Lower Mainland and spent many weekends since hiking the Chief, camping in the corridor and, in recent years, shopping in Squamish’s downtown.
Over the past year I freelanced off and on at the Whistler newspapers and talked endlessly with my family about finding a way to move permanently to Squamish.
We spent the summer here hiking, biking and exploring from our vacation rental.
One warm night in July, I cycled around downtown for the first time and so many people waved at me that I almost fell off my bike from shock; Squamish people are so friendly compared with those in the city!
When the reporter position at The Squamish Chief became available, I wrote the publisher immediately to express my interest. When I was offered the job I said yes before he finished his sentence.
Living and working in Squamish is like coming home, only better.
