Nelson (BC), Canada – Let’s just put this into simple terms: a day spent with Valhalla Powdercats in the Valhalla Range of British Columbia ranked amongst the very best days of skiing ever experienced in my entire 32 years in the sport. Snowcat skiing, while not as luxurious as heli-skiing, is still a gratifying way to get fresh powder at every turn.
(photo: Steve Kijak) |
Even though it may be referred to as the poor-man’s answer to heli-skiing, accessing the goods via snowcat is certainly is not for the poor. A day of cat skiing costs more than six times as much as a single day lift ticket at a resort, but once you experience it for yourself, you’ll understand the value. The euphoric feeling of skiing untracked bottomless champagne powder out in the Canadian backcountry is utterly priceless.
Valhalla Powdercats bases its operation in an artist’s studio the Slocan Valley, just 30 minutes from the quirky British Columbian town of Nelson. As the guests arrive at 7:30am, they boot up and sign liability waivers in the studio while sipping coffee and munching down pastry, fueling up for a big day in the backcountry. Guests who wish to rent fat skis are fitted at this time as well.
Our group this day was comprised of an interesting mix of people: a nice couple from Vermont, a snowboarder from San Diego, a snowboarder from Los Angeles, two Swiss gentlemen, a local from Nelson, and two of us from Ithaca, N.Y. It’s important that potential participants recognize their limitations. One of my travelling companions backed out because he was afraid that he might hold up the group, as he did not have a lot of experience skiing deep powder. In retrospect, it turned out that this was a very wise decision.
This group of skiers and riders were all skilled experts. One weak link might have cost the group some precious vertical over the course of the day. Valhalla Powdercats specializes in challenging terrain, and therefore requests that their guests are solid skiers in good physical condition. I give my traveling companion a lot of credit for making this decision in behalf of the rest of the group. Nearby Whitewater Winter Resort kept him entertained as he enjoyed fresh snow that fell throughout the day.
The group became acquainted with one another during the 20-minute van ride from the studio to the waiting cats. We were taken up ice-covered logging roads in a two-wheel drive van. It was essential that the van did not stop on this icy road, or else the wheels would spin and we would be walking to where the snowcats were parked. The weight of 11 people and their gear certainly helped keep traction. Our driver skillfully kept the wheels turning.
Flakes began to fall from the overcast sky as we arrived at the snowcats. We boarded the cat and began our day in the backcountry with a 45-minute drive to the top of the slope of our first descent. We stopped half-way up the mountain, where we disembarked for our safety orientation. We were in avalanche country, so it was essential that each person is aware of the risks and understands how to use the equipment and knows what to do in the event of a slide. This was a little disturbing, of course, but a necessary discussion.
We learned how to use the avalanche beacons and paired up and did search exercises. This was not difficult, and my partner and I were able to locate the beacon in a matter of a couple of minutes. We also learned the technique of using an avalanche probe. We piled back into the cat for the final ascent to our first run.
It was snowing heavily when we arrived at the top of the mountain, and fresh snow was already accumulating. The cat dropped us off above tree line in the high Alpine, where everything was covered in an unblemished coating of white. Paul, our guide, delivered specific instructions as to which side of his line to stay on and where it was okay to ski, as well as where not to go, before laying down the first tracks. Doug, our other guide, ran sweep, making sure no one strayed. There were some places where a wrong turn could send you down into a different drainage away from the one where the cat would be picking us up, so it was essential to stay within sight of the tracks of the guide.
Tranquility (photo: Eric Krupka) |
Our first turns of the day were delightfully effortless. We floated through the whiteness, so soft and delicious. There was not much contrast between air and snow. The feeling of weightlessness suddenly intensified. The pitch steepened. I had to remind myself to keep my hands and balance forward in anticipation of terrain changes that may not be detectable by sight. My heart was pumping and the adrenaline was flowing. Completely stoned on a pure endorphin buzz fueled by fluffy powder in a beautiful winter wonderland, I came to a stop laughing in ecstasy. The group reassembled at the top of the tree line, grins on everyone’s faces. We were up to our knees in the fluff and there was no sign of it stopping.
Descending beyond the Alpine, the next stretch of our run was through the trees. There were all kinds of terrain changes as well as a series of large boulders begging to be launched from. Landings were merely a soft phfuff. Just when I was peaking with delight, we dropped out onto the cat track and the snowcat was waiting a few yards away. In the cat, our guides handed out homemade energy bars and muffins for a snack. Bottled water and juice were both available to us throughout the day.
Fifteen minutes later, we were back out on the mountain tracking up more fresh snow. I felt so free, swerving around trees and getting light and airy over the boulders blanketed in feet of snow. There were some guys in the group who went for the big air and even threw some helis and grabs while they were up there. At one point we had to make a choice: launch a 20-foot cliff, or take a sneak route that did not involve much air, but was technically more challenging. My buddy took the cliff route, and I opted for the sneak route. You needed speed to make the cliff launch spectacular, but I had a spectacular moment myself as my ski tip got stuck on a tree on the side of a narrow chute I was trying to clear. I found my body going down the chute while my ski remained high on the slope wedged into the tree, leg and ski boot still attached. I warned the group waiting below that I was in a bit of trouble so they wouldn’t leave me hanging (literally). But I worked my ski out and slid down the chute on my butt. Not a very pretty moment, but but I was happy to provide some entertainment. The only thing injured was my ego, but that healed very quickly as the powder turns deepened and the dry snow sprayed gently upon my face, the light flakes choking me as I inhaled.
Valhalla’s snowcats sport custom built cabins that seat 14 people. The seats were similar to those you would find on a school bus. Hooks on the walls held our backpacks that swung as the cat rumbled upward. There were windows, but visibility was masked by the effects of a pack of sweaty, damp, heavy-breathing and snow-covered skiers that make for a lot of condensation.
The time on the cat between runs went rather quickly. Conversation was lively and the camaraderie between us grew with each run. Before we knew it, we were at the top of a mountain with fresh snow beckoning for our tracks.
(photo: Steve Kijak) |
One of the Swiss fellows was celebrating his 60th birthday. Our guides allowed the birthday boy to make the first tracks for an entire run. We were in a drainage that funneled down to where the cat was meeting us, and our guides were comfortable enough with the terrain to allow our new friend to lay down the first tracks, and the rest of us followed him down. It was quite an honor to ski with two seasoned veterans of the Swiss Alps. Each of these veterans had nearly 20 years on the average age of the rest of the group.
After five runs our bellies were roaring for nourishment. Lunch was an assortment of sandwiches washed down with juice or bottled water. We didn’t waste any time eating and consumed our lunch during a mid-day cat ride into a new drainage.
The snow kept on piling up. Face shots were had by all, one after the other, again and again. We were completely intoxicated by the quality and quantity of the snow, drunk on champagne powder. It was incredibly amazing and wonderful. Truly the best buzz I’ve ever experienced. The afternoon runs were deeper and steeper. I hoped it would never end.
By 4 p.m., however, it did, but only after we had logged 10 runs and 16,500 vertical feet. That is about as much as any group will do in a day. A quality group of expert level skiers and riders, along with capable guides, can maximize the vertical skied in a day. Our guides chose the routes we skied that day based on snow, visibility, weather, overall skier ability and avalanche conditions.
While out on the mountain, the worries of avalanches faded with each run. There were times where the snow would slough, but it did not feel like we were in any danger. Our guides took careful notes on the wind, weather, snow quality and behavior. Each day the notes and weather conditions are carefully consulted, and the locations to be skied are determined by these data. Though the guides were fun and easy-going, it was apparent that they were doing their jobs well and keeping tabs on all the variables necessary for the safest backcountry ski experience.
The end of the day came sooner than I had hoped. Though mentally I wanted more of this good drug called catskiing, physically, my body was thankful that it was over and ready for a beer, a nice rest and a therapeutic soak in the nearby hot springs.
Our last run was the longest, though we still did the last stretch down to the van in the snowcat. The van ride down was scarier than any of the skiing we had done. The icy roads were like a bobsled run. Suddenly we were sliding sideways and 2 wheels went up on the bank. The weight of 11 people kept us from tipping over, but it was certainly a scare. Our driver capably guided the van back onto the icy road and safely got us back to the studio.
We said our farewells to the group, thanked and tipped our guides and headed back to Nelson for dinner and drinks to toast a great day of powder skiing in the Kootenay backcountry.
IF YOU GO:
There are nearly a dozen cat-skiing operators in the Nelson area. Each outfit obtains permits to run their operation on provincial land. Valhalla Powdercats operate on terrain that is five times the size of Whistler! The variety of terrain is immense and there are numerous choices that the guides make each day based on weather and snow conditions as to where they will bring their group. The roads are plowed by the snowcats, or may follow existing logging roads. More information may be obtained at www.valhallapow.com.
The BC Heli and Snowcat Skiing Operators Association oversees backcountry skiing operations in British Columbia, Alberta and the Yukon Territory. This organization defined the standards and operating guidelines to ensure minimal impact on the environment and to promote safe backcountry practices. More information may be found at www.helicatcanada.com.
If you visit British Columbia, it is recommended that you make a reservation with a cat operator in advance. It is also possible to fill in cancellations or go stand-by with short notice. The standby price is often a discounted price, as the outfitters want to fill their cats each day, though you won’t be guaranteed a spot on a trip with just a day’s notice. But with 12 operators in the Nelson area, chances are pretty good that if you have a couple of days to choose from, you can get in on standby. You’ll be glad you did.