I’ve been known to come up with some crazy ideas. This one hits the list at number one. We decided in September (2021) to cancel our January 2022 trip to Hawaii. The protocols for PCR testing and quarantine seemed way too complicated and risky. So with that, I started looking at some ski vacation ideas. The heli-ski and cat-ski operations book up two years in advance. You know, the ones where you get to go have a massage after each ski day? Hindsight.
I follow Backcountry Lodges of BC on Instagram. Early October I saw the most amazing photos of a place called Mallard Lodge. I decided to do some research. It is owned by The Canadian Adventure Company, a family-run operation near Valemount, BC. The lodge is toted as one of the most remote backcountry lodges in North America accessed only by a thirty-minute helicopter ride into the middle of nowhere. The introvert in me loved this idea. The terrain looked fairly mellow with low avalanche risk. The Hut itself stated that it had a propane incinerating toilet and a shower. All meals for the day were prepared by an in-house chef. Sounded like the perfect adventure.
If you follow along with my Instagram page, you know that this trip did go completely sideways but it worked out in the end. We were booked to be at the lodge on January 30th. Our dog, Kekoa had other plans. The Monday prior to our departure Kekoa got very sick, very quickly. So I took him to the vet that afternoon. They asked if he had ingested anything. He has been known to eat my socks. I usually witness this however because he thinks it’s super fun to grab one and run away. I then chase him around the dining room table. Sometimes he drops it, sometimes he eats it. I suspected that he had consumed one of my socks in private this time.
The veterinarian did an x-ray and there was indeed “something” lodged in his colon. She wanted to keep him overnight hooked up to an IV to see if he would pass it on his own. I got a call the next morning that he did not pass it and he needed surgery immediately. Perfect timing.
Kekoa is my pandemic puppy. When my world had fallen apart, he became my new project and companion. We had had many pets before but were guilty of being those people with a young family, full-time jobs and no time to properly train or attend to them. This combination usually makes for asshole pets that are always in trouble and neighbours that hate you. This time was going to be different. I have to say that over the past eighteen months, he has hardly left my side. He has climbed mountains with me, run hundreds of kilometres with me, has been biking, hiking, cross-country skiing and everything in between with me. We’ve had some bear encounters together and he goes everywhere in the car with me too. He does not, nor will not, ever sleep in my bed. We must draw a line.
Needless to say, I was worried sick that I was going to lose him. Where they had to cut his intestine was a high bacteria area. The vet warned me that it would be a full ten days before he was out of the woods in terms of developing an infection. There was no way I was leaving him. By the way, it was indeed my sock that she removed along with a very large mass of tangled grass.
We emailed the lodge owners with our news. They were so gracious and understanding and allowed us to change our trip date. We also opted for the four-night stay rather than the seven-night stay as we had also booked a sledding clinic the weekend prior so it was a lot all at the same time. In the end, I believe there was some sort of hut god looking down on us because I’m not sure we would have survived seven nights!
Rebooking hotels for the night before in Valemount proved to be almost impossible. After searching online with every hotel, motel, inn, guest ranch and Airbnb, we were starting to panic. Chris then started phoning down the list getting further and further away from Valemount. Finally, we found a room at the Lobstick Lodge in Jasper. Say that out loud without laughing. We also had to pay for two nights, despite only staying one. The things we do for a vacation after two long years without one.
The drive up to Jasper was a bit hairy. At least it was for me. It was snowing, icy and very socked in. Neither of us had been on the Icefields Parkway since we were kids and it was unfortunate that we couldn’t see the majestic mountains on our drive up.
My anxiety was through the roof. I usually get travel anxiety. However, two years with no practice and having zero idea of what to expect over the next five days had my guts in knots. I’ve been on helicopters a few times before. Each time I had very bad motion sickness. So that was my number one concern. My other concerns were getting sick with covid and being in the middle of nowhere. The others were just all irrational anxiety provoked thoughts that I usually have prior to travel. Thank goodness, Chris is patient and has been living with this for over twenty years. He knows when to entertain my worry and when to ignore it.
We arrived in Valemount Sunday morning at the helipad. There seemed to be quite a few people that were there. My assumption was that there was a maximum of six people that could fit into the lodge. I was also noticing quite quickly that I was the only female. I had wondered about this in the weeks leading up to the trip as I was following their Instagram and I was not seeing very many females in any of the photos.
We were given our run-down of the helicopter ride and arrival at the Hut. When asked if there were any questions, I stated, “I see I am a little outnumbered.” There were a lot of laughs and then the guide said that they definitely do not get many female guests but it was, “getting better”. Later in the week, when the topic came up again, the Hut owner, Paul and the ski-guide, Dave, said that there was about a one to ten ratio for female to male guests. Maybe you will figure out why a little later on in my story but looking back, I’m pretty proud of the fact that I accomplished this.
We arrived at the Hut around 1:30 pm. We were given an orientation by Paul and then we had a bite to eat. Then it was time for our avalanche simulation exercise. I found out then, that my transceiver did not want to stay in search mode, which was ok because send of course is the most important. We had also done an avalanche simulation the weekend before with our sledding clinic. It’s always great to get a really good refresher.
After that, we geared up and started up the mountain to get a couple of runs in. The visibility wasn’t great but the snow conditions looked amazing. Once again, I could feel my gut-wrenching anxiety bubbling up. This time it was the uncertainty of how advanced this group of skiers would be. Due to our shit winter conditions and January being dedicated to covid-illness and the dog, we had not had our skis out once. It seemed that everyone else in the group had been out at least twenty or so ski days.
Chris is not really into fitness… ok, he’s not into it at all. He loves to ski and is an amazing skier but climbing up mountains for hours to ski down for a few minutes really isn’t his jam. He knows that I get my kicks off of the climb up and fear the ski down. Great pair we make! I warned Chris in October that he needed to start working on his fitness. As a retired personal trainer I know that it’s like leading a horse to water. Maybe even more so when it is your spouse.
Turns out, I was right. Imagine that. He was really struggling with the climbs. Our house sits at 1184m. The Hut sits at 1994m. We were touring up to about 2500m. As conditioned as I am, I could feel the change in elevation. I can’t imagine what it felt like for Chris. Ski-touring is a process and if you don’t enjoy that process, you likely will hate it. Add in the fact that we got very unlucky with our temperatures for the week and it made for a much more challenging situation.
The key to ski-touring is to NOT EVER sweat. I sweat easily and fast but with -15C our first day, it took a little longer for that to happen. The key to staying happy is staying dry. This means you have to be willing to stop on a dime take your pack off and any layers you need off, stuff them into your already full pack, put the pack back on and hope that your hands don’t freeze. A lot of times when I ski tour, I don’t even wear gloves on the climbs but it was cold and fingers get cold fast. Transitioning and layering up and down is pretty miserable when it’s cold. Chris definitely needs more practice at that too. He didn’t want to stop to un-layer and his insulated layer and his shell were literally freezing together. I don’t know how he did it.
Transitioning from tour mode to ski mode involves taking your skis off, taking your skins off your skis, ensuring they don’t get snow on them – folding them and putting them in your pack. Then you have to flip your bindings to ski mode. Tighten all the buckles on your boots, flip your boots from walk mode to ski mode. Put your warm layers on. Put your helmet and goggles on and then put your skis on. Whew. It gets faster each time once you get your system down. But again, when it’s cold, it is a bit of a miserable process. This is also why you don’t want to sweat when you climb. You will freeze your ass off on the ski down.
On our first day, we were out about two and a half hours. Chasing daylight by then. Back at the hut, we were greeted with a warm bowl of creamy mushroom soup and a charcuterie. In case you are wondering, yes, I brought wine! We had a weight allowance of forty pounds, which included all of our luggage and ski pack, with probe and shovel. It actually wasn’t as hard as I expected. I am the queen of overpacking but turns out you don’t need a whole lot when you’re in the middle of nowhere. No fashion shows that is for sure! So wine was definitely prioritized.
The next source of anxiety was the bathroom facilities and the fact that I was the only female. The toilet was in a separate outbuilding which was a brisk 45-second walk from the Hut. There was a separate port-a-potty for me to tinkle in and then a propane incinerating toilet for the – well, you know. There was also a pee-tree for the men outside. I felt blessed to have my own pee potty. That being said, I found it very hard to relax and my belly was very unhappy for the first couple of days. I might add here now that I discovered that men crap way more than women. One day of a man’s crap was probably equivalent to a weeks worth for me. I found it disgusting and intriguing all at the same time. Chris was asking me what the hell I was doing looking in the toilet and inspecting the shit. I told him that I was NOT inspecting it but when you have to lift a lid, it’s kind of hard not to notice. He then told me that he closes his eyes when he lifts lids. Ummm… ok… (insert eye ROLL).
I’m not quite done with the potty talk yet. Aren’t you lucky? The first night, I made two trips out to the port-a-potty. That got old very fast, especially when the temperatures dipped down to -30. Getting out of my bunk bed, putting on shoes and a jacket and headlamp to trek down the stairs and to the toilet hut was over-stimulating and made it very hard to get back to sleep. So from then on I peed into a cup and then disposed of it in the morning. Chris thought I was disgusting UNTIL he found out that all of the other men had what they called “piss bottles” too! Hahaha – not so disgusting now am I? I also bet its way easier for a man to pee into a bottle than it is for a woman to pee into a cup. Ok – now I am done with the potty talk. But you wanted the full experience. So there you have it.
Now let’s move on to sleeping arrangements. All the bunks were situated on the top level of the Hut. Unfortunately, Paul put Chris and I together and by together I do not mean in the same bed. I mean the same bunk arrangement. This means I was close enough to hear his rumbling snores but far enough away that I couldn’t kick him. Each bunk had a little shelf at the foot of the bed, night light and the warmest alpaca duvets that you could ever imagine. There was also a nice blackout curtain that you could pull across for privacy. These were much appreciated when the woodstove ran out of warmth by morning in -30C temperatures. That being said, I was still sleeping in long underwear, pyjama pants, a wool tank, t-shirt and sweatshirt… and a toque. Although, I did end up ripping half of it off a couple of nights.
Chris insists that others were also snoring but I could not hear anyone but him when I was awake for my pee into a cup sleep interruptions. The first night, sleep was very little. I was worried that Chris was going to keep the entire Hut awake with his snoring. I think my anxiety was just a little out of control period though. Lucky for me, Kekoa had been prescribed diazepam for a reaction he had to one of the antibiotics he was given for his surgery, so I brought it with me “just in case”. Just in case happened. I may now have to come up with some ways to convince the vet to prescribe more valium for him. The shit works great. I also learned later that week that I was not the only one with magical pills to help with sleep. It’s always nice knowing you’re not in the minority.
When I got up in the morning I was worried about how I was going to survive a whole day of activity on five hours of sleep. According to my Whoop strap, my recovery score was 2%. I had never seen that low of a recovery before. Essentially, it was telling me I should stay in bed for the day. That was not an option.
Ryan, our chef for the week @sharpkniveswilltravel prepared us a hearty breakfast each morning. He was one hard-working man. The other caretaker was not there for the week, so Ryan and Paul picked up the slack and busted their butts to make everything happen each day. Ryan was in the Hut by 6:15 am getting things going for the day. Paul, Ryan and ski guide, Dave had separate sleeping quarters. Ryan would stoke the fire and have coffee going in half a dozen French presses each morning. Turns out adventurists drink a LOT of coffee. The morning routine was coffee, Wordle for Chris, Paul and I and then breakfast at 8am. We would then get our gear on and head outside to skin up our skis. It was so cold that ice was forming on the bottom of our skis so we had to scrape the ice off before skinning. The third day, that got old and I brought my skis in and held them close to the woodstove to melt the ice. Worked like a charm.
We did our transceiver check and headed up the mountain. On day two, Chris’s nerves were bad. He knew he wouldn’t be able to manage a full day, so Paul and Dave came up with a plan so that there was a mid-day exit strategy for him. This was so thoughtful as Paul had to come up as a tail guide after his morning duties and ski back down with Chris. It worked great and was so much appreciated. So day two, after Chris went back down the mountain with Paul, I continued on with Dave, our ACMG guide and the rest of the boys. We did a big climb up to the ridge of the mountain. All was well until we got up to the ridge and I looked over the other side. Then the pant-shitting commenced. Where we had to drop-in was quite narrow as there were rocks to navigate. It was also very steep and the snow was wind-affected (hard). Suddenly, it was my turn and I was so scared that I really couldn’t focus or hear anything Dave was saying to me. So I took my first turn, fell and then started sliding. I could feel snow sliding with me and I wasn’t stopping. Dave ran over (his skis were off) and grabbed me. Then I’m not sure where he went but my skis were buried and I could not get them out. I started to cry uncontrollably. I had never skied in big terrain like this. I thought I was going to die in an avalanche or break my leg trying to get down that steep pitch. I felt like a huge, sissy girl.
There was a father/son duo in the group. The father, Gilles, works for Avalanche Canada. He was so sweet and came over to me and explained the terrain and that we were safe and protected. He and Dave calmed me right down and were just so kind. This was the definition of imposter syndrome. I told them I was so sorry and that I was way out of my league. But they were ALL so kind and encouraging and continued the entire week to encourage me as we skied down the various runs.
I felt very frustrated as I was on skis at the age of four. Once upon a time, I was a great skier. But, I moved to the flatlands for university, got married, had kids and skied very little until about six years ago and in that time, I have not skied that type of terrain. So I definitely was out of my league. I could climb all day but age seems to have created a lot more fear than I once had as a child and young adult. I guess certain responsibilities do that to a person.
Our second day was a good seven-hour day. It was cold and there was a windchill of about -35C all day. The cold really takes a lot of energy out of a person. Your body has to work that much harder to regulate. You also are not thirsty and therefore do not drink enough. I of all people know that you have to push fluids regardless when you’re working hard even in the ice-cold weather. I had a hydration pack and I always blow the water back into the reservoir but in those conditions, the valve and tube froze and I could not get a drop of water out. Thankfully, they had some extra water bottles at the Hut and the next days they were filled with hot water. I will never do a winter activity with a hydration pack again.
Day three I was beat. The mental fatigue of the previous day, the elevation, the lack of sleep and my downhill legs had me tired. So I opted to use the mid-day exit strategy with Chris. I was having some major FOMO, but I know my limits and had I pushed again that day, I may have ended up injured. I had downloaded some shows before I left and I snuggled in my bunk and had a great afternoon. Ryan once again fed us so well. There was no weight loss on this trip!
Our fourth and final ski day, we headed out as a group. It was another bluebird day but it had warmed up to -20C overnight and there was no wind. I had layered the same as the other days, which included a merino wool tank, two merino wool long sleeves, a light wind-shell, my insulated puffy and my ski shell. That quickly proved to be too much about ten minutes into the skin up. I ended up taking off the shell and one of the long sleeve shirts. I was hiking without gloves for a short time too. Amazing what a few degrees and no wind does.
We made two runs as a group. Each of us went one at a time. There was another steep pitch (steep for me) and Pat, one of the young guys in the group was super encouraging and suggested places for me to turn. Pat was actually there taking professional photos for the week. He and Paul, the Hut owner, were old friends. Pat took some absolutely amazing photos and we got to have a mini-slide show on his laptop the night before we left. He is on Instagram as Paul Valade.
After those two runs, the group split off and Paul took Chris and I back down to the Hut. He then offered to take me back out for a couple more runs. I was so grateful to him because I really wasn’t ready to stop climbing and skiing yet and it was our last day. He took me to a run not far from the Hut that was the perfect pitch for me and had the most beautiful powder I had ever skied. It was glorious. So we did that run twice and my heart was so full.
The next day, the helicopter picked up three of us to take us back to Valemount. We dropped Paul off at the top of one of the mountains so he could meet up with the rest of the group. It was a crazy feeling landing on top of the mountain. We then took off from there for our thirty-minute ride back. It was a clear day so we got to see all that we couldn’t on the way in. The majesty of those mountains was breathtaking. The peaks just go on and on forever. Our helicopter pilot, Matt was a former Olympic Slalomn snowboarder. Super cool!
I think one of my favourite parts of the trip was meeting all the people… men – haha! Aside from Gilles and Pat, the father/son duo, each other person was there solo. There was a delightful man, Ken, a newly retired banker from London, who gave me a motivational speech for the remainder of our day two after my crying episode. He climbed behind me and kept telling me that no other women were out here doing this and that I can’t compare myself to a bunch of young guys who had been skiing all season. Although, Ken had been in Canada with his wife since mid-December and he had skied twenty-five days at resorts, done a cat-ski trip and had ski-toured. His wife set sail back to London when he travelled to Valemount for this trip. He was then heading home and going to Iceland to ski with friends for two weeks. That is the kind of energy I want when I am that age.
There was another man, Mark, a retired orthopedic surgeon from Las Vegas. How does a guy who lives in Vegas know how to ski? He was very fit and an amazing skier. He goes every winter. Then there was another young man, Will, from SanFransisco who works for Google. He had been staying in Whistler for the winter as covid had given him the opportunity to work from wherever he wanted. Someone in the group asked him where he went to school to be at Google working the job he does. He replied, “oh, just Berkley”. We all had a good laugh… “oh, just Berkley.” He was not only extremely fit but extremely intelligent and very interesting to listen to as well.
Ryan, our chef for the week also had so many amazing stories to share. He has done many retreats all over the place where he is the chef for the week. You would have to love people doing that job and he does. He was stuck with Chris more than he likely wanted to be during our time there but he made him feel welcome the entire time.
The amount of work it takes to run a solar-powered Hut during an insanely cold week is incredible. It exhausts me just watching them get all that needs to be done in a day done.
All in all, I’m so glad that we went. This really pushed me (and Chris) out of our comfort zones. The physical challenge of skiing down the slopes was good for me as you can’t improve without practice. I think we can get very complacent as we age if we don’t. I am not sure I will book another hut trip again soon, although I’m not saying I will never do it again either. Chris says he will be a little more involved in whatever sort of trip I book next, rather than just handing me his credit card to book it all. He’s now threatening me with a golf trip. That would likely be equal in suffering for me.
So there you have it. All the details of surviving my first ever winter backcountry hut adventure. Now all that remains are some fabulous memories, a lot of learning experiences and lots to look back on and laugh about. Man-shits and all.
