Whitefish, MT to Fernie, BC

We made the drive from Whitefish, MT to Fernie, BC under the dark of night (bear with me, I recently watched the Lord of the Rings trilogy), which hampered our viewing a bit. But it’s amazing how even in darkness it’s easy to tell when you are driving on a road with steep drop offs that winds its way below avalanche path after avalanche path, so perhaps nightfall was to our benefit. As we made our way closer to Fernie, we were able to see in the darkness the outlines of massive, white vertical lines and said to each other “Are those really the mountains?” The scope of the slide paths lit up by the scant moonlight gave British Columbia even more of an air of enormity making it seem even more exciting and intimidating then we had thought. As we pulled into the RV park, I couldn’t wait to get to bed so night would pass quickly and we could see what awaited us.

Holy mountains! From the vantage point of the trailer, we could easily visualize the cliff bands and huge bowls that make the skyline of the Fernie Ski Resort so formidable, a vista we have drooled over many times in many ski publications. As we digested our surroundings by daylight, I asked Ryan with trepidation and anticipation “What on earth are we going to ski?” To say that the Lizard Range, the range that looms above Fernie, is impressive would be an understatement. It is awe and fear inspiring especially when one is contemplating skiing it.

It can take skiers years to a lifetime to learn the nuances of the mountains that they ski. What skis well in certain weather conditions? What terrain is safe to ski when different avalanche conditions are at play? What ski lines get sun in the morning and the afternoon? Where does the snow blow in? Given the nomadic theme of our trip, we had mere days to get as many answers to these questions as possible; therefore, Ryan and I had come up with a plan of attack for arriving in new areas. First step, visit the local backcountry ski store to ask the people who ski it.

We arrived at the Backcountry Hut in downtown Fernie just in time to hear one of the local skiers comment to one of the workers that “we have been in this weird vortex of no snow for like a month.” I’ll tell you what, these are not words one wants to hear on a ski trip. Yes, the snow banks along the roadway seemed a little short to us, but maybe there was a huge difference in elevation between the base of the mountains and the town? Maybe it was because they have had so much snow that they needed to haul it out of town in trucks like they do in NYC? Or maybe it was that once every 15 year ‘vortex of no snow” had descended upon Fernie, BC on the one year we planned to ski it?

We didn’t have much luck with the guy that worked at the backcountry store as he was more familiar with the side country off the lifts. We had gleaned enough information to make our first foray into the Fernie backcountry a skin into an area called Tunnel Creek appropriately named for it’s proximity to a road tunnel. We started the climb up an unplowed logging road and were quickly greeted by a humongous pile of avalanche debris about 15 feet tall by 100 feet wide. See the picture below. What was incredible about the debris pile was not only the massive size of it with chunks of ice the size of refrigerators and trees snapped like twigs; but you couldn’t see where it came from! One would think that an avalanche path capable of producing that large of an avalanche would be hard to miss but truly, it was nowhere in sight. And the slope angle of the terrain that it slid on didn’t even look steep enough to produce an avalanche. If I had climbed along the road prior to the avalanche coming down upon it, I wouldn’t have even thought twice about crossing the area, that is how benign this terrain looked. It was really amazing and really spooky. We would later find out that it avalanched from about 2500 vertical feet above during a warming cycle in January and warm weather tends to produce wet avalanches that are denser. Well, at least it was confirmation that they had snow at one point!

It was a long slog to a cirque that offered some short ski lines in any direction, but by the time we made it to that point we were too tired to climb further. We opted to ski the soft snow along the side of the road, which was not an open bowl but would get the job done. When we finished our day, we checked back at the store because the kid we spoke with earlier suggested we come back to talk with the girl who would be working that night as she was more familiar with backcountry routes. Ryan told her what we had skied that day and inquired about easier access in the area to which she promptly suggested we buy a snowmobile because the only easy access in Fernie was by bile or by the lifts….Just what our budget didn’t want to hear!

The town of Fernie looks out of place given it’s history steeped in timber and mining. The buildings in downtown Fernie are built of brick and stone which lends its look to that of Beacon Street in Boston then one of an industrial town. It turns out that two fires devastated downtown Fernie in the early 1900’s leading to a city ordinance that all buildings be built of “fireproof” material mainly brick and stone. I am not sure the effectiveness of the ordinance on fireproofing, but from an aesthetic standpoint the ordinance worked in the towns favor. Despite boasting a population of 7000 people in the winter months, the bustling downtown area was more of a bust, with only one bar as far as we could tell and no restaurants. But with the Three Sister’s peaks as a backdrop, the view is hard to beat. No matter where you stood in downtown Fernie, you were always under the watchful gaze of the ladies in all their grandeur.  Our friends, Mike and Shannon, were in Fernie the same time that we were and despite the lack of nightlife, we managed to find a great sushi restaurant with lots of good wine and laughter.

Canada is a quirky place as most countries are. While we had anticipated the giant mountains and expansive vistas that we would behold, nothing could prepare us for the sight of the “World’s Largest Truck” or the “World’s Largest Set of Ski Poles.” As I get up in years, while I may forget the look of a peak or two but I am not sure I am ever going to forget what the “World’s Largest Piggy Bank” looked like. Truly an amazing cultural experience.

Our camp spot at the Snow Valley Hotel and RV Park was situated next to a trailer that had been tastefully spray painted black with red symbols. As my gaze fell upon it while sipping my morning tea, my imagination conjured up images of the inhabitants being snowmobiling, beer guzzling, smoking, loud talking, oversized guys with piercings in their lips, tongues, eyes and cheeks that would keep us up all night blaring metal death rock, lighting things on fire and telling sexist jokes. It took us days to meet them assumingly because they were sleeping off their hang-overs all day and only came out by the black of darkness. So when finally our paths crossed with these creatures of the night, I was humbled to meet two of the nicest, most clean cut, funny and charming Canadian nationals who went to bed early because they were out snowboarding well before dawn…and certainly before Ryan and I. I was so impressed that I started running the list of single girls I know in my head to come up with someone I could convince to drive up to meet them. Another lesson learned, you can’t judge a person by their trailer. Turns out that given the low snow pack, they would snowmobile 20 miles out to get to decent snow to snowboard. As we enjoyed a nice cold beer with them they, too, confirmed for us that this was the worst snow year Fernie has seen in 13 years. Yahoo!!!

Not to be deterred by the seemingly lack of access except by snowmobile or lift, we attempted a climb through the ski area determined to gain access to a backcountry area known as Fish Bowl. Given our budget, which allows inbound skiing on powder days only, and the lack of a one up ticket it was climbing or no ski turns that day.  Fish Bowl gets the dubious distinction of being  “slackcountry” meaning it is backcountry terrain that can be accessed off the lifts minimizing the amount of effort needed to get there. I rarely use the term “slackcountry” because some skiers and boarders are mislead by the name into thinking that the close proximity to the lifts and that these areas are accessed by gates off the ski area act as a green light to ski without proper precautions in place. These areas are sometimes treated as less dangerous terrain then the backcountry when in fact, slackcountry has the same avalanche risk, the same self rescue policies and the same hazards as backcountry and should, therefore, be treated with as much caution.  Many times we have seen people traveling in these areas without any of the recommended backcountry equipment or even a clue which puts everyone, most especially themselves, at risk. I was skiing slackcountry in Washington and had just dropped in to ski a bowl when a group of three guys started jumping on a cornice, a build up of snow and ice off a terrain feature (in this case a ridge) formed by wind, in an attempt to break the cornice off. Cornices can be as big as cars and weigh thousands of pounds so this is not something you want shushing down the mountain slope with you. The cornice was poised just above my head so needless to say it was one of the most nerve-wracking ski runs for both myself and Ryan, who was watching me from the bottom. These are not necessarily brain surgeons roaming around the slackcountry.

But I digress, our goal was to reach Fish Bowl and after four miles of skinning just on the approach with the climbing still ahead, we once again aborted our mission. Actually, as frustrated as we were by the lack of quality ski turns down the hill, it felt really good to be enjoying some physical exertion surrounded by these amazing views. Really, how bad could it be? As I have said many times, a bad day on your skis is better then just about any day when you’re not.

In the days to follow, we would awake to the soothing sounds of avalanche bombs exploding in mountains above us. The bombs were like a sirens’ song beckoning us into the mountains to dive in to the first six inches of new snow Fernie had seen in over four weeks. We took full advantage by splurging on ski tickets with a plan to head to the slackcountry once the inbounds powder was chewed up. Being the romantic that Ryan is, and in honor of St Valentine’s Day, Ryan arranged a romantic sleigh ride through the snow to whisk us to the base of the lifts…..I am SO just kidding. Fernie Ski Resort utilizes horse drawn sleighs as its primary mode of transportation to move skiers around their base area, which is a fabulous way to begin your day.

We skied those six inches for all they were worth. When powder was in short supply we went further and further off the beaten path to find the goods and were successful all day. The terrain at Fernie is misleading because while the upper lifts sit at the base of the cliff bands and huge bowls I described earlier, this terrain is sadly off limits to skiing which is a humongous tease. From a safety stand point I get it because if one of the bowls came down it would risk taking out skiers on the inbound terrain below. But from a skiers stand point, it was painful to see all that untracked snow daring you to drop in and make your mark just out of reach. Nevertheless, we found great lines and with improving visibility in the afternoon we headed towards Fish Bowl, finally, just in time for ski patrol to close the gates. Again feeling the pain of the knowledge that there was untracked snow awaiting my ski turns that I couldn’t have access to, I aggressively inquired from the unfortunate ski patroller standing nearest me “What the feck?” (I didn’t really say that or anything close to that but you are getting the magnitude of the situation and how I was feeling at that moment…) He pointed to the cornice the size of a bus that came down in the bowl to the right and the level two avalanche, big enough to take out a skier, that came down in the bowl to the left. It turns out that there was a temperature inversion that day meaning the temperature was warmer high up leading to snow melt causing natural avalanches to release…. Ooops, my bad….Nevertheless, we had a great day playing in the Lizards.

The next day we couldn't wait to make our way to Nelson, BC, apparently, the unofficial home of hippies, draft dodgers and grass peddlers.

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