I left Whistler at half past ten in the morning, when the air was still fresh and the valley lay in a soft light.
The road led me along the river, and after about a kilometre of walking I decided to leave the path for a moment and descend towards the water. From down there I could already see the lowest part of Nairn Falls, where the water broke down in white spray and rushed onward with an enormous force. The sound of the torrent filled the air, and the first sight of the falls gave me a sense of anticipation for what still lay ahead.
I returned to the trail and followed it until I reached the very beginning of the falls.
Standing there, I felt the full impact of this natural spectacle. The water carved its way through the rock with immense energy, and the canyon seemed to vibrate with the roar of the current. The sight was both overwhelming and fascinating, and for a while I simply stood and let the impression sink in.
When I left the falls behind, I continued my way towards One Mile Lake. The trail brought me to the shore of this quiet body of water, and I walked all the way around it. After the power and noise of the waterfall, the lake appeared like a place of calm, where the surface reflected the sky and the surrounding forest in stillness.
From there I moved on towards Pemberton. In the small town I allowed myself a pause, sat down with a latte and enjoyed the relaxed atmosphere of the place. Afterwards I walked through the streets for a while, taking in the mountains that rise around the valley and the sense of openness that belongs to this northern landscape.
My journey for the day did not end there. I continued until I reached the Lillooet Lake Bridge, where the view opened widely over the water and the mountains beyond. The bridge offered a last highlight, with the long expanse of the lake stretching into the distance and the peaks reflecting in its surface. It felt like a fitting conclusion to a day that had begun with the thunder of waterfalls and ended with the quiet majesty of lake and mountain.