Naturally Rich in Northern BC.
A much-needed recharge from the competition life.
From Issue 104 2022
Words & Images Abby Cooper.
Rich. Filthy rich, but not the way you measure with currency or tangible items. Golden moments that make life rich; positive, disruptive experiences. The abundance of culture, friendly communities and mountains to explore are just the surface-level riches that Northern British Columbia (BC) offers. And of course, there’s the unfathomably light, bottomless powder.
Without much in the way of expectations, a sleepy Jess Hotter shuffled skis into thetruck-bed by headlamp at 4am. Tuckered out from a chest infection and some big days of preparing and competing in hardpack conditions at the Kicking Horse Mountain Resort Freeride World Tour (FWT) stop in Golden BC (stomping second place, might we add) Jess was craving a mind, body and soul recharge.
Kiwi FWT teammate, Blake Marshall, Spain based Abel Moga, and Canadian resident Ian Morrison completed the crew to make a solid road-tripping four-pack. Starting from the vaguely central point of Pemberton BC, it was an early up to begin the journey north.
“Shames feels a lot like the club fields back in New Zealand.”
Jess’s pleas for thrift store stops, filmer Jeff Thomas’s need for Tim Horton’s subpar coffee and Ian’s Smirnoff Ice antics broke up the first big drive, eventually depositing the crew in the jaw-dropping Pine Pass.
Tucked into a picturesque A-frame, we rested under the milky skies that engulfed the tippy tops of the Northern Rockies and prepared to sample the offerings of Powder King Mountain Resort. Quaint in infrastructure and boisterous in personality, Powder King served up zero lift lines, perfect corduroy and a moody backdrop of the notorious Northern Canadian Rocky Mountains.
Despite not scoring one of the plentiful and notoriously deep powder days that the resort is named after, the four-pack were all big smiles. They welcomed a short ski tour for soul turns and chairlift laps for the perfect corduroy. A necessary first step to recharging was embracing “chill” on skis. And it broke up the massive drive, of course.
On the road again, our eyes feasted on the towering views of the Seven Sisters Mountains, the magnificent Rouche De Bull Mountain, the large-and-in-charge Hudson Bay Mountain of Smithers, BC and the tempting Babines. Meanwhile, inside the truck, a broken audio system and patchy service struggled to stream the Olympic halfpipe finals.
At the Swiss-inspired downtown of Smithers, we pulled into Northern BC’s best gear shop, Local Supply Co, for last-minute boot mods for Jess and Blake. It’s unheard-of in most North American ski shops to just walk in and get treated like the town mayor, but that’s the hospitality baseline in the north.
Visual clues alluded to the rich indigenous culture while we stacked the kilometres. Signage, artwork and villages oozing with local cultural peppered the landscape. Embracing inquisitiveness, we stopped at the historical village of K’san. A handful of stark, upright, colourful totems lined the maintained grounds, rising high above seven traditional longhouses.
"Life moved slower up north, quite literally due to the antiquated chairlift."
Once a bustling, important trade and transportation hub for the Gitxsan people, the village was strategically built on the confluence of the Bulkley and Skeena Rivers. The preserved history breathed life into our visit. The surface gold was great, but it was even richer as you dug deeper. As Jess explains,
“I was super-stoked to see there is more inclusivity up north with the indigenous people of the area. You can really feel there is a lot of rich and respected history. Each stop had me excited to learn more and solidified that fact. I really connected with the pace of life up there.”
Trucking on, we followed the moonlight reflecting off the salmon-rich Skeena River for a few hours to Terrace, BC. Waking to electric pink views of the Sleeping Beauty Mountain range; Ian, Blake and Abel stood on the porch of our cabin at Hidden Acres Farm and Treehouse. The steaming coffee in our hands mimicked the steam rising off the river in the distance. Awake equally from caffeine and brisk mountain air, we were all chomping at the bit to investigate the humbly hyped “champagne snow” that’s apparently on tap at Shames Mountain Co-op.
Shames is Canada’s first non-profit, community service ski co-operative, relying on local businesses and funding to continue operating. What it really means is that while the resort has 1600m vertical, two lifts and 28 cut runs, “Shames feels a lot like the club fields back in New Zealand.”
It has a vibe that’s hard to describe.
“Everyone shows up in whatever ski gear they’ve managed to wrangle, and a great attitude. Everyone gives you a warm welcome and loves to share their home mountain,” says Jess. “We had so many people encouraging us to come back and tell our friends about the place they call home. It was so refreshing.”
Without a doubt, 78,000 acres of accessible backcountry is plenty for the surrounding population, but what makes it more magical is the locals’ willingness to show you around, cheer you on, and set a bomber skin track. Shames is a very special place where the declining culture of a true backcountry community is well preserved.
Three of the four were eager to break their competitive circuit up with some good old-fashioned powder medicine, and Ian never complains about pow. As Jess put it,
“snow had been very low quality for the whole Freeride World Tour season, so we were just hoping we could ski something that wasn’t ice and crust. We were pleasantly surprised to find that the only place in Canada that had fresh snow was where we were! Those first turns really set the mood for the rest of the trip. I think we were all just so happy to have some good snow to work with.”
“As the week went on, we chased good aspects for pow and scored some awesome stuff. I was mind-blown by Blake and Abel and the crazy stuff they were pulling on those slack country days!”
For days on end, we sipped coffee at the cabins and drove the narrow pass to Shames for another day sessioning powder in paradise.
“The peaks are mind-blowing, and the valley is so tight and steep that everything around it avalanches. You can’t see the tops of the peaks and the huge bowls hidden behind; there’s something very humbling about driving that road.”
The Decompression Session was on. Life moved slower up north, quite literally due to the antiquated chairlift technology, but also in the lack of hustle and bustle. There was plenty of great snow, epic vistas and smiles for all. Competitiveness didn’t need to exist to have an incredible day on skis. Abel couldn’t stop laughing after he nailed a double backflip off a small take-off with an endless tranny that the crew had stomped out.
The giggles oozed from his face.
“Whatcha laughing at, Abel?” asked Jess after a few minutes of relentless laughter.
“Northern BC is crazy,” he replied.
Life money. Stomping in deep snow, with big open skies and not a soul in sight after a 10-minute tour. Rich. With no downtime in lift lines, we had some tired legs after a few days and decided to take a chill day to sate the hunger for cultural connection.
Just north of Terrace, BC is a special place called the Nass Valley.
“Exploring the Nass Valley and getting to see the power of nature up there was mind-blowing,” recalls Jess. “To see a lava flow so large it destroyed villages, rerouted rivers and cut off settlements was crazy. People never cease to amaze me with how they find a way to exist and thrive in such remote places, and still have such rich culture and art.”
Visiting Anhluut’ukwsim Laxmihl Angwinga’asanskwhl Nisga’a Memorial Lava Bed Park, we learned that it’s one of the youngest volcanoes in Canada, last erupting just 263 years ago. Taking in the bare basalt fields’ magnitude, we were humbled by the power of the event. The view served an unwavering reminder that nothing is forever and everything is fragile; its most recent feruption took the lives of 2000 valley residents.
At the edge of the lava bed, we were drawn to the Nass River’s turquoise colour, amplified by its black borders. Walking across the Gitwinksihlkw Suspension Bridge was like stepping back in time. A bridge has stood in this very spot for over 400 years linking the Gitwinksihlkw Village with the rest of the valley.
A short drive northwest from the lava fields lies a hot spring that we couldn’t pass up visiting. From the parking lot, a snowy boardwalk through the coastal forest led us to the sulphur sanctuary of Aiyansh Hot Springs. A warm sitting area in the rich silty ground with gently flowing water had us feeling more grounded than ever.
Without puffies and Goretex, without skiing to define us, we relished just being there. Feeling the earth without any of our “normal” ski antics to distract us, we could connect with the traditions and sacred places of Northern BC. The springs are traditionally a healing ground for the Nisga’a people, and it was an honour to experience their tradition. Another golden moment.
Recharged and relaxed, we all welcomed a few more days in the Shames area to complete our trip. Jess shares, “on one of the last days, we skied a line each off the backside of the ski area. After doing lots of smaller laps, it felt great to ski a longer line that more suited my style of skiing and ski the best snow I’d had all season.”
Pristine powder, limited cell service and a connection to the land; Northern BC did more than recharge our baseline – it exceeded all expectations.
There’s something about being connected to both the past and present cultures when you visit a new area that brings an authenticity to the experience. Feeling rich on that oh-so-special life money, Jess admits,
“visiting Northern BC was a great reset for me. It gave me a chance to push myself in safer snow conditions and clear my mind when it came to competitions. It was like having a little treat after qualifying to the FWT finals.”
Powder King Mountain Resort—https://www.powderking.com/
Shames Mountain—https://mymountaincoop.ca/