after spending a blissful evening in Whistler and a LOVELY morning to boot (the sun was out, the mountains were imposingly attractive, even the squirrels were chatter-singing this morning) for the last 24-odd hours, I was strickingly shocked at how clean, despite tourists and the Warrior Race pushing muddy, costumed athletes all over the mountain and through the town site, it stays up there is beauty-land. that pleasure and blissed out feeling carried me down the highway, back into the city and to work tonight. then i rode my bike home, through the crowds departing the final night of the fireworks, and also departing from their manners of keeping places they love clean. I must have ridden past 10 or 15 garbage cans that patrons were piling garbage AROUND the bins. not in or on top.
my encouragement, full handed friends with the need for a dispoal unit: hang tight (while I pull on some spandex pants!) and wait for the next available receptacle. Is that empty coffee cup cramping your style THAT harshly? probably not,