Getting to Squamish was a huge check box for this trip. It marked both a halfway point and a point of no return for the next monumental stretch. The last time I was in Canada was March 2020—just before the height of the COVID pandemic—so this return, almost exactly five years later, carried a weird sense of symmetry.

Back then, the plan was simple: fly into Vancouver, catch up with cousin Mike, cousin Hud, and their families, then head up to Whistler to stay with my cousin Syd. That Spring Break during senior year was a turning point. I’d been grinding hard—committed to school, water polo, and trying to set myself up financially for life after graduation.

But I needed to breathe. With school winding down, my final water polo season behind me, and my savings in a good place, I gave myself permission to relax and take full advantage of Spring Break. COVID’s unexpected disruption gave me more space than I could’ve planned for—space that, in hindsight, helped set the stage for the next chapter.

Now, nearly a year into this transition period of my life, I still believe in the value of carving out intentional time to reflect and grow.

During that 2020 trip, Syd had to leave for Ontario at the last minute, shifting my plans a bit. But things still worked out. We both knew then that too much time had passed—we needed a proper catch-up. Apparently, that catch-up would take another five years. Life moved fast. Careers, relationships, relocations—it all made crossing paths more difficult than we realized.

When this trip started to take shape, Syd and my other cousin Jac—who now lives in Squamish—were some of the first people I told. I wanted them to be part of it. This meetup had been a long time coming.

Jac and Syd grew up in Ontario. My siblings and I were California kids. I’m pretty sure calculating the last time we’d all seen each other would short-circuit a small city’s power grid. But family is family. Despite the time apart, reconnecting was effortless. It felt like no time had passed.

Both Syd and Jac went above and beyond. They welcomed me in, showed me their lives in Squamish, and integrated me into their circles like I’d always been there.

I had five packed days with them before heading back to San Diego briefly for a wedding. While in town, I got a crash course in Squamish sauna culture, a couple days on the slopes, and a look at the next wave of development sweeping through the area.

My goal for the trip was simple: catch up with my cousins and, if I could, surf in Tofino on Vancouver Island. But looming in the background was the Al-Can Highway and the long road to Alaska. My rig had developed a subtle right-side lean I couldn’t quite place—was it in my head or something real? Naturally, a Vancouver-based shop convinced me I needed a spring upgrade.

I’d come to regret the tangible result of that decision, even if I learned a lot about my suspension system in the process.

Of course, shipping parts to Canada meant delays. Returning from San Diego, I found myself back in Squamish, waiting again. And this time, living out of my car in the constant rain of March began to test my grit and push the limits of what I could tolerate while living this lifestyle.