Wind sculpted snow surface.
Unsure of the conditions, but just keen to get out into the mountains, Jordy and I sledded into the Norns to see what we could find. Recent warming had tree bombed the glades, but as the wind dropped and the sky cleared, getting into the alpine appealed despite the wind scoured snow. The prominent east face of Mt Spiers looked very tempting in the sun, however at the point where we’d have transitioned to boot-packing, a quick check of the snow-pack revealed layers that would’ve made dropping into the 1000′ 40 degree slope more of a gamble than we were up for. We’ll get it next time. Variable conditions up high led to some unexpectedly sweet turns down through the burn to the sled.
Carving up the Lower Slopes of Mt Spiers.
Creamy turns through the burn.
Mts Hilda and Lequereux. Always new possibilities on the horizon.
Dropping into the cloud at Wildhorse.
Skiing has no meaning beyond itself. Each and every turn is a beautiful self-contained moment, of no consequence. The wind blows, the storm rages, and all evidence fades into obscurity. Who is to really know or care of the things we’ve seen and done. It was in this spirit that a group of Vancouver skiers completed a 2000km ski traverse of BC’s Coast Range, chronicled in this article in mount.ai/n/ . An accomplishment of singular boldness and determination, yet undertaken entirely for its own sake. Undoubtedly these experiences can inspire others in a positive way, as the Long White Line Traverse inspires me 12 years after. Yet it seems the extent to which inspiring is intentional (done with an audience in mind), diminishes both the authenticity of the experience and paradoxically its capacity to truly inspire. As a skier and a blogger, it’s an insight I try to remember, and forget.
Fetching Eggs – Early morning in Rossland.
The timing couldn’t have been better. Sunny snow-less conditions over the Christmas break made for some picture perfect days at Wildhorse, then as the kids and workers returned to their regular schedules, we were treated to day after day of new snow and empty lineups at Red. Been too focused on shredding to stop for pics in the fog.
Elise – Carving the Main Run with -17 degree visual effects.
Warming up from a cold sled ride at Wildhorse.
Pulled Pork Poutine.
You’ve got to re-fuel the motor. Half priced butter chicken wings at Rafters (Thursday nights at Rafters) deserve a mention, but the pulled pork poutine at The Spot (Cedar Ave in Trail) is in class of it’s own. A 5000 calorie flavor explosion.
Breaking a trail to Record.
Laps on the Quim.
Elise and I, enjoying late afternoon sun on the Headwall.
The storms that inundated us through December have taken a break, but with consistently cold temps the snow remains dry and soft wherever it’s untracked.
Cam, linking together the openings below the OK Chute, on his birthday.
I never get tired of trees loaded up with pillows of powder.
“So well, just follow my track”. Guiding at Wildhorse.
Elise, getting her groove back in the powder at Wildhorse.