At the enthusiastic suggestion of
Kinneyland, I made a point to head south of the border to check out Warm Beach.
Last winter, they went on a bit of a camping trip at said beach but this year I only went for the evening. Planning a last minute adventure (without my emergency packing list I should add) by quickly looking up directions and scant information online, I decided this would be a bit of an odd-ball and fun way to spend my Saturday night.
And it was. However, I also assumed it was no big deal. I mean, who names a place Warm Beach and then opens up a million-Christmas-lights-big display in December?
What I learned (and quickly at that), is Warm Beach is a
big deal, and is also basically supported/advertised on every radio station in the Pacific Northwest.
Two hours of driving straight south in five o'clock traffic led me off of the I-5 and into farm land. Not to be confused with Farm Ville. I don't play that.
The landscape was completely confusing, but I had my dad's trusty GPS so I Did Not Panic.
After some twists and turns on very dark and narrow roads, the county Sheriff appeared. True story.
He was directing traffic.
It was a bit strange because there weren't many signs leading to the lights, and no hint of lights either. It was easy to believe I was lost but…GPS. So I Did Not Panic. Ish.
The flashing lights of the police cruiser appeared suddenly, so my cruising speed of 35mph came to an abrupt 10 as I queued to turn into the camp. From there, things got crazy.
There were parking attendants running all around, instructing vehicles where to park down to the very stall. My car was assigned a personal attendant, who ran in front of me for at least five minutes passing maybe 100 empty parking stalls.
Looking back, he may not have been wanting me to chase him in my car. Perhaps he was attempting to run for his life.
Regardless, the roadway eventually ended and I was left with front row parking at Entrance 1.
Since the camp didn't open until dark, and it was only 5:30 pm, the crowds weren't droves. Yet. By 7 pm, things got crazy.
However, before the crazy, I had amazingly awesome hot chocolate, real true-blue kettle corn, and even learned where Victorian carolers buy their hats. It was quite an evening.
Once the crowds (and their
children) came, things like personal space and indoor seating became a thing of the past. Which was OK, since there were 1,000,000 outdoor lights arranged in fanciful patterns to browse whilst waiting for the couches to become vacant.
There was everything from the traditional Nativity to a talking Christmas tree to the Canadian version of Christmas (hint: it has a lot to do with bears, lumberjacks, and lollipops). All displayed in overwhelming numbers of lights, healthy doses of glitter and the odd mechanical statue.
Anyway, what I thought would be an hour-long browse at pretty lights turned into a four hour endeavour. And that doesn't count driving time or borders. The beach really held my interest for that long.
In the end I wish I had told more people about my idea so everyone could have the chance to enjoy the display. Probably that's my only regret except I also wish I wore long johns. Luckily, my
EPL wasn't needed. This time.
Despite it being -56 C in Alberta, I think -7 is still
really cold. Call me what you will, it still took me two days to warm up after Warm Beach.
Now, isn't that ironic.
Obviously giving the best Christmas gifts stresses me out. Actually giving gifts in general stresses me out.
