#hutlife
As an IT Consultant living in the modern world, with a number of computer-based hobbies (photo editing, music production, and now “blogger”…), it can be difficult to disconnect. A constant stream of emails, meetings, Facebook/Slack/Hangouts/Signal/Teams and SMS messages, as well as the odd panic phone call from a client in distress, inundate day-to-day life. Throw in mortgage payments, hydro bills, home repairs, tax management for myself and my company - Atwell Systems Inc, GST payments, strata fees, investment management, client invoicing and follow-ups, and the odd sick puppy, and this whole adulting thing gets a bit fucking ridiculous.
Sure, I manage to get out a lot, but the anxiety-inducing torrent of news, communications, and social media doesn’t stop when I walk out the door. Generally, this level of nomadic connectivity allows for a very desirable work-life balance with my career and lifestyle, but holy shit does it ever feel good to take an extended break every now and again.
Hiking into the wilderness and camping provides an excellent escape; an intimate connection with the world around you. But anyone that speaks fondly of mid-winter camping is either an insane masochist, or blatantly lying to you.
Enter the backcountry cabin.
Trophy Hut - Wells Gray Provincial Park
Providing at-your-doorstep access to incredible skiing at high elevation, and a cozy warm abode to dry yourself and gear, the only messages received are generally of the esoteric, spiritual kind. British Columbia is somewhat of a haven for these huts, often built on crown land as a memorial to past adventurers that would likely be extremely proud to carry such a namesake. Most are secretive and off the map, built by a collection of motivated friends with their own resources and time. Others are managed by various outdoor community groups, such as the Alpine Club of Canada, UBC Varcity Outdoor Club, or the BC Mountaineering Club. Finally, moving up the socio-economic chain, commercial ventures are developed and maintained by private families and organizations, and range from basic and affordable, to five star experiences for the truly elite.
Needless to say, I was stoked to get the message from Audrey and Mike that they were planning on celebrating Audrey's 30th birthday at the Alpine Club of Canada's Wendy Thompson Hut, in the Duffey Lake area near Pemberton, BC. What better way to celebrate with good friends than hauling back-breaking amounts of beer, whisky, boxed wine, jars of peanut butter, frozen tuna, portable speakers, camera equipment, and Monopoly Deal, deep into the backcountry for a few nights of debauchery and laughter surrounded by a backyard winter playground.
Giles C., Smash Mountain alumni, was even making an appearance, down from Rossland for the experience. Chef extraordinaire, philosopher, bass music head, slingshot slayer of overly aggressive grouse, gorilla-legged mountain speed demon, and ruthless conqueror of the Scoville scale; the only thing that makes him sweat is if someone happens to be talking about rock climbing near him. He's a great friend, and fellow splitboarder, so it was an absolute treat having the man in attendance. We met in Vancouver on Friday evening, and headed up the Sea to Sky, spending the evening in Squamish getting organized, wasting no time diving into light philosophical discussions such as the concept of free will (spoiler alert: it doesn’t exist).
We had a plan to try to get North of Whistler Saturday night to reduce travel on the following cabin approach day, and the snow conditions were all time with high avy danger on the coast, so we loaded up the sled to double into a new zone up the Soo Valley with a buddy, Sam. We had a nice little adventure up the beautiful valley to a warming hut, but struck out on the ski line choice below the hut, and ended up with a piss poor ratio of actual snowboarding to survival wallowing through creek gullies and flat clearcuts in chest deep snow. Hey, you can't win them all, and good times were still had all around. Sometimes on a high avalanche risk day, playing it safe is the right choice at the expense of good snowboarding.
January 18th, 2020 - Soo Valley warming hut
Things started out pretty decent…
But quickly turned into this…
After a night in Whistler posted up with the ridiculously gracious hosts at Sam's place, we headed up the road to Pemberton and Mt. Currie Coffee to organize and caffienate. Our tactic turned out to be a wise one, as the remaining six people from our party coming up from Vancouver were stuck in Whistler traffic chaos, and were significantly delayed, so we packed our bags and sipped an extra Americano, and hopped back in the truck to wind our way up the Duffey Lake Highway, roughly a 3 hour drive from Vancouver, and the epicentre of ski touring in the Coast Mountains.
January 19th, 2020 - Marinating sashimi-grade ahi tuna steaks outside a coffee shop is exactly the culinary experience I have come to expect from this man
The hike into the Marriott Basin, home of the Wendy Thompson Hut, is roughly 7km long and 550m elevation gain. Much of the approach is quite flat, with two steep sections in the middle and end of the tour. Not a particularly demanding day, but with a number of inefficient choices weighing down the pack, my lower back was happy to see the cabin after a little under 3 hours. Giles had recently completed a heinous 15.5 hour approach to a cabin in Jasper National Park, and my mind was constantly questioning the abilities, and level of mental stability, required to complete such an endeavour.
We got comfy, cranked the wood stove, and settled in to wait for the rest of the crew. There were a number of beginners, and even a couple on suffer slippers (i.e. snowshoes), so we were expecting the procession to make a fashionably late entrance.
Charcuterie prepped and served for our late arrivals
The weary crew arrived after dark with smiles on their faces, and libations and celebrations began.
Giles forgot the sprouts in Sam’s fridge in Whistler, so the seared tuna burgers were completely ruined.
Spirits were high the next morning, as the squad prepared for a day of reasonably organized pow hunting. In order to maximize efficiencies on these trips, multi-tasking is key. Staying loose and limber along with proper hygiene in the backcountry are extremely important, as well as “looking hella dope” throughout, and I encourage the viewers at home to take careful notes of Halfdan and Audrey’s high level of skill in achieving all three with this instructional video:
With the squad looking so fresh and so clean, it was time to hit the skin track.
The crew - ready to “get pitted”
We dug out a pit to analyze the snow pack. Tests came back as expected, with a persistent deep layer down 90-100cms that was only reactive under significant force. As a general rule: if you’re hurting your hand on the shovel during a compression test with no results, chances are the stability is pretty good. Shout out to Halfdan for sacrificing himself demonstrating this point.
And so we shred…
Some of the crew took the “get pitted” mantra quite literally.
Good times were had on the warm-up, so it was time to head back up for another. We were fortunate to be met with gradually clearing skies, and the true beauty of the Marriott Basin began to present itself.
We decided to take our chances with the “sucker hole” of visibility and clearing skies, and venture up into the alpine, to look around, and as the best approach to access some lines across the basin to finish the day.
Credit to Giles with the assist for a solid Photoshop cleanup on this one. Skimo bro in training, Mike M, showing how it’s done with the ski-on skin removal.
We wrapped up with an apres beer outside, taking in the last of the day’s light, followed by an excellent curry prepared by Mike, and some brutally cutthroat Monopoly Deal.
The following day included some more - you guessed it - backcountry skiing. To steal a line from the birthday girl used two nights earlier during an in-depth review of the tuna burgers: it was “fucked good”.
Another bonus of our Kootenay-based renaissance man, Giles, joining the trip, was there was another f-stop addict out there snapping pics, which is somewhat of a rarity for whatever reason with my typical crew. Here’s a few of his shots of yours truly from weekend:
Following a completely acceptable morning shred, we gathered back at the hut, packed and cleaned up, readying for departure. After an obligatory group photo in front of the hut, we split into smaller groups and flailed our way back to the highway through a somewhat ridiculously varied mix of conditions. As far as splitboard exits go, it wasn’t the worst, though it definitely wasn’t the best, and we did opt for an initial skin up to get one more short shot of quality skiing, bypassing the long flat section by the lake and meadows.
The Jan. 2020 Wendy Thompson “Get Pitted” Squad
Back at highway after a reasonably success split-ski out on the flat road using the “single skin technique”
After a celebratory beverage at the truck, it was time to descend down to Pemberton, where we assumed civilization was still waiting for us, along with all the associated creature comforts. Netflix, Skip the Dishes, 5g cellular networks, 24 hour news cycles, conference calls, Internet banking, and Trumps’ shit stained Twitter feed were all about to crash back into our lives.
“I think we have enough Cliff Bars left to survive a few more nights if we just turned around…
How much coffee do we have left? Shit, only that much?
Fuck.
Well, back to modern society then.”
I’m well adapted at this point to survive the modern era’s bombardment of media and technology, but I’m just not capable of living without my morning JJ Bean Fair Trade Organic Dark Roast.
As we roll into Pemberton, my cell phone explodes in a chaotic fireworks display of alarms, advertisements, notifications, communications, proclamations, and spam. My primary client had managed to forget that I had notified them of my trip through multiple streams of prior communications, and a cascading tone of desperation through seven well-crafted voicemails told the story of a disrupted “guest wifi” that needed immediate resolution.
Those poor guests. Their level of suffering sounded unimaginable. Cellular data being consumed at an alarming rate, likely primarily by desperate onsite auditors trying to reduce workplace boredom commonly associated with auditing, by using their personal devices to view the streaming TV series du jour.
Truly a crisis of biblical proportions.
Kidding aside, that is the crisis-filled, anxiety-ridden life we live today. We don’t have to outrun a predatory lion while on a hunt to feed our families, or worry about marauding bands of tribespeople from the next valley over. Evolutionarily speaking, we’re still the same “fight or flight” Mesolithic homo sapiens, we’ve just found new stuff to fight, and different methods of escape.
The fight against bad wifi rages on, but fortunately the flight to peace, solitude, and face shots is often just a short journey away.