“OK, I Get It.”

Sum­mer week­ends around here are pretty sweet.

Vancouver Magazine - - June - Anicka Quin EDITORIAL DI­REC­TOR ANICKA. QUIN@VANMAG. COM

, when my nephew— then about two and a half—was here vis­it­ing from Cal­gary with his par­ents, my sis­ter asked him which he pre­ferred: Cal­gary or the coast. “Here!” he said adamantly. “Why?” she asked. “Be­cause it has all of this!” he an­swered, spreading his chubby arms open wide to the beach and the ocean in front of him.

When it comes to sum­mer in Vancouver, or any­where on the coast re­ally, that’s a tough ar­gu­ment to beat. A friend who moved here from Mon­treal at the be­gin­ning of fall said he wasn’t sold on the city dur­ing that year’s par­tic­u­larly bru­tal snowy and rainy win­ter, but when sum­mer came around and he Œnally got to ex­pe­ri­ence just one glo­ri­ous beach sea­son, he ad­mit­ted, “OK, I get it.”

Here at Vanmag we know these sum­mer week­ends are pre­cious, and so we wanted to put to­gether a story that planned an itin­er­ary for ev­ery sin­gle one—all 14 of them. Our goal was to Œnd week­end plans that are a little out of the or­di­nary, and I think we suc­ceeded. Case in point: writer Masa Takei takes a ˜oat plane to ac­cess the South Chilcotin’s wildest moun­tain bike trails. (He also rec­om­mends mak­ing a pit stop in Cen­tralia, Wash­ing­ton, on your next trip to Port­land—to share a pint with the lo­cals, and to ex­plore both the deep craft beer list of the Olympic Club ho­tel and the in­cred­i­ble col­lec­tion that Holly Phelps has as­sem­bled at the Shady Lady Bordello Mu­seum.)

Our exec ed­i­tor Stacey Mclach­lan demon­strates that you don’t have to choose your favourite Gulf Is­land, be­cause you can ac­tu­ally hit three in one (long) week­end. And as­so­ciate ed­i­tor Ju­lia Dil­worth stakes her claim on a quiet point on the Twin Is­lands, a feels-like-it’s-re­mote camp­ing des­ti­na­tion that’s only a twohour pad­dle from Deep Cove.

Me? My lo­cal des­ti­na­tion of choice for sum­mer al­ter­nates be­tween Third Beach (bike, rosé, bathing suit and book—it’s per­fec­tion) and Pow­ell River. The lat­ter is a “two fer­ries can’t be wrong” happy place I’ve been vis­it­ing for 10 years. My va­ca­tion starts the moment I crack open a Zunga blonde from Town­site on the back pa­tio of the restau­rant at the Earls Cove ferry ter­mi­nal, and it only gets bet­ter from there. Here’s hop­ing your Œrst few sum­mer week­ends are just as glo­ri­ous. And how could they not be? We have all of this.

Fol­low me on In­sta­gram!


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