I don’t travel quickly. I like to take things slow. This is why the last couple of days were so foreign to me.

A couple of months back, my wife and I purchased new mountain bikes from a shop in Revelstoke. Revy is a laid-back mountain town in British Colombia, about 700 kilometres away from us.

This weekend we finally had the free time to head down and pick them up.

On Friday, we made the journey down. We spent the afternoon in Revelstoke and enjoyed some beer at a local pub before staying the night at our in-law’s house.

First thing the next morning, we made the journey back home.

I won’t get into the details of the gruelling drive, but to keep a long story short, we spent four hours driving through an intense blizzard in the mountains. It was an adventure.

But what sticks with me now, is that we had this wild adventure over the span of roughly 36 hours. This is not like us. It happened so quickly that it almost doesn’t feel real. If we didn’t have our new bikes as living proof, I might not believe it happened.