Category: Environment & Biodiversity

Our greatest assets.

Trick Question: Ever been to Red Mountain?Trick Question: Ever been to Red Mountain?

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Most would agree that the physical landscape has played as much a role in our region’s history as the people, so we figured we’d give Mother Nature her due by profiling some of the amazing natural features and landmarks surrounding Whistler.

As with any history, it’s easiest to start at the beginning, so it only makes sense to go way back and profile the oldest thing in Whistler, Fissile Mountain.

Beginning over 200 million years ago sediment deposited in a large basin that was forming between the west coast of North America and smaller tectonic plates incoming from the Pacific. The ensuing tectonic clash created the Coast Mountains and left much of the ancient sediment basin covered with younger rock.

Fissile Mountain is our region’s notable exception, as it’s steep slopes of rotten shale and sandstone are actually a persistent exposure of this ancient sedimentary rock. For tens of millions of years now, Fissile has weathered stoically all the while witnessing the creation and growth of surrounding, much younger peaks.

Fissile Mountain is full of character. This rock face can be found between the Banana Couloir and the Northwest Face.

Undoubtedly local First Nations have their own set of stories from millennia of hunting goats, climbing around, or simply admiring the striking peak from a distance. Fissile’s first modern ascent is unrecorded, and was likely achieved by prospectors around the turn of the twentieth century. The Singing Pass area between Fissile and Whistler saw a fair bit of mining activity at the time, and for decades an old prospecting hut doubled as a popular hiking destination for residents and visitors to Alta Lake. Back then, however, there was no Fissile, it being known instead as “Red Mountain.”

Myrtle Philip takes in the sublime setting at “Red Mountain,” 1928. William “Mac” MacDermott photo.

For a long time we weren’t sure whether “Red Mountain” was today’s Fissile or it’s neighbour Overlord, both are in the same general area and composed of rotten, rust-coloured rock, but one of Neal Carter’s old climbing photos fully convinced us it was Fissile.

Shown below, the annotations on the backside of this 1923 Neal Carter photograph, which looks south from the near the summit of Wedge Mountain, clearly identified Fissile (only the top of which is visible) as “Red Mountain” while identifying Overlord as well. Note how the foreground peaks and glaciers (the Blackcomb backcountry, including Mount Pattison, Mount Trorey, and Mount Decker) are unidentified because at this time they were still unclimbed and unnamed.

Neal Carter’s 1923 photograph. The digital scan of the backside of the print has been reversed. Carter actually wrote the mountain annotations backwards. If you hold the original print up to a light, they can be seen through the image, appearing the right way around, pointing to their respective peaks. All the other writing (that which appears backwards here) doesn’t really show through the darker parts of the image.  “C.T.T.” (backwards) refers to Charles T. Townsend, Carter’s climbing partner who is visible in the right-hand foreground.

Red Mountain received its current name in 1965, based on a suggestion from the Fitzsimmons Names Committee, which consisted of local mountain-lover Karl Ricker, and interestingly enough, Neal Carter. “Fissile” is an adjective used by geologists for rocks that split easily, which will make sense to anyone who has ever slipped and skidded up (or down!) the loose, sharp rocks which cover Fissile’s flanks.

In 1968, the British Columbia Mountaineering Club, led by local climbing veteran Werner Himmelsbach, built a small backcountry hut at the base of Fissile beside Russett Lake. Now known as the Himmelsbach Hut and administered by BC Parks, the compact, sturdy, and easy-assembly Gothic Arch design has been replicated with several other backcountry huts throughout the Coast Mountains. In ensuing years the area grew in renown as a summer hiking and climbing area (the rotten rock isn’t pleasant to climb, but the north-facing snow and ice routes stay in great shape all summer long).

With the rapid growth of Whistler Mountain, and major advancements in ski technique and equipment, it wasn’t long before skiers followed suit. Many pioneers have been forgotten with the passage of time, but John Baldwin’s “Whistler Backcountry” map credits Jim Vaillancourt with the Saddle Chute’s first descent way back in 1980, and the imposing Northeast Face route was first skied by the prolific skiing/climbing duo of Jia Condon and Rich Prohaska in 1990.

As a result the entire north side of Fissile Mountain has become an absolute classic among steep-ski enthusiasts, with close to a dozen named runs. These days it’s a genuine race across the Musical Bumps to get there first when in prime condition. (Don’t be fooled though, folks. This is serious mountain terrain that deserves caution and respect.)

This is why Fissile is such a favourite among backcountry skiers.

Fissile is undoubtedly one of Whistler’s most iconic peaks. Even if you’ve never skied or climbed its flanks it has probably left an impression on you, as the jagged pyramid is plainly visible from all over the ski resort.

Fissile dominates the view from many points within Whistler-Blackcomb, including here at the top of the old Orange Chair. George Benjamin photo.

It’s visual impact is so strong that when Eldon Beck first began conceiving the layout for Whistler Village in the late 1970s, his starting point was the Village Gate entrance, which he designed specifically so that Fissile would be visible to greet incoming tourists. On one of Beck’s original drawings held in our archives, he even labelled “an entrance of importance with a view of Mt. Fissel [sic].” (For more on the design of Whistler Village, check this post.) Inspired viewscapes such as this have shaped the experiences of countless visitors to Whistler over the years, and convinced more than a few of us to stay.

How about you? Do you have any interesting Fissile stories? What is your favourite local peak?

Camping with Old BillCamping with Old Bill

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As the end of summer approaches many people might make the most of it by going on one last camping trip before heading back to work and school.  To all those, the Museum would like to offer the advice of Old Bill, suitable for all seasons.

Waiting for the train at Alta Lake station, 1937. Left to right: Bill Bailiff, Mr and Mrs Racey, Ed Droll, Betty Woollard, Larry, Flo and Bob Williamson.

Born in Liverpool, Bill Bailiff moved to Canada and began working for the Pacific Great Eastern railway in 1913.  He soon quit over unsafe working conditions and walked up the unfinished track to make his home at Alta Lake.  Bill settled in a log cabin on the Pemberton Trail near Scotia Creek and kept a trapline up the Cheakamus and in Fitzsimmons Pass.  As the community around Alta Lake grew Bill became an involved resident so that at the time of his death in 1958 he had been serving as the president of the Alta Lake Community Club.

First Alta Lake Community Club picnic on the point at Rainbow.

Founded in 1924 the Alta Lake Community Club regularly held dances, card parties, and film nights, as well as constructing the first school building in the area.  The club also put out a weekly newsletter called the Community Weekly Sunset to which Bill, as president, contributed a column on life in the mountains.  Going through the archives I found one of these columns entitled “What Not to Do” and thought it was time to share the advice of Old Bill.

Original illustration from the Community Weekly Sunset.

1. Don’t ever make your campfire against a tree and in summertime don’t make it against a log or windfall.  make it where it can be controlled at any time.  Remember, fire is a good servant but a bad master.

2. If in company never carry a firearm loaded.  By loaded I mean a live shell in the chamber.  Be careful of that sharp axe, best to have it covered as anyone brushing against you could receive a nasty cut.

3. Don’t go sliding down a steep snowbank as you may not be able to stop and the rocks below are harder and sharper than your bones.

4. If on a glacier don’t ever attempt to cross on a snowbridge over a crevice as these are liable to give way anytime so leave that to the experienced mountaineers who rope themselves.

5. Don’t be a litterbug around a campsite clean it up as someone else might be along to use it and don’t stay too long on a snowfield without dark glasses on as you may get a terrific headache from partial snowblindness.

6. Remember your forest ranger is your friend and you’ll find him very nice and co-operative providing you are not a careless firebug who none of us has any use for.

7. Don’t go killing wild life needlessly as some species are nearing extinction from indiscriminate slaughter.  Much better to try a shot with your camera and picture them.

9. Don’t be an old grouch round the camp or on the trail as this has a bad morale effect on others.  If the going is tough take it with a smile and joke about it as it makes it easier and pleasanter.

From a different issue but still applicable. Original illustration in the Community Weekly Sunset.

Sound advice, 90 years ago or today. Happy camping!

Molly & McGeeMolly & McGee

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There’s a photograph in the Museum collection of an unlikely pair of friends: a bear cub and a piglet, leaning into each other as they happily lay on their backs. Until very recently, we assumed that the bear cub in the picture was none other than Alta Lake’s most famous bear cub: Teddy.

The photograph in question. If you look deep into the background you will see a dog looking on – his name was Freckles and he preferred to keep to himself. The original print belonging to the Museum was very faded, so we weren’t able to see that this bear does not have a distinctive white patch on its chest. This print came from former resident Norm Barr, and the bear’s lack of markings is easy to spot.

For those of you who have never heard the story of Teddy, it goes like this: In 1926, Whistler pioneer Myrtle Philip was out picking berries to make a pie with some Rainbow Lodge guests in the woods when they heard a whimpering sound. They soon discovered it was coming from a lone bear cub, whose mother was nowhere to be found.

Eventually, they decided to take the bear back to Rainbow Lodge, where he was given the name Teddy and spent the summer happily playing with lodge guests. By the fall, Teddy was getting too big to remain at the lodge, and was taken to the Stanley Park Zoo, where he lived out his days. Myrtle continued to visit him at the zoo over the years, where he would run up to the bars to greet her.

Teddy the bear in 1926 – note the white patch of fur on his chest.

Teddy is the subject of many photos in the Museum collection, so it was easy to surmise that the bear in the photograph with a piglet must be Teddy as well. Recently, Archivist Sarah Drewery interviewed Norm Barr, the son of former Parkhurst owners Ross and Alison Barr, and discovered that there was another bear cub in the Alta Lake area, a decade after Teddy. This bear was named Molly, and Molly’s best friend was McGee – a piglet that had been purchased in New Westminster by a teenage Betsy Henderson (née DeBeck).

Betsy was interviewed this past month about the two summers she spent at Green Lake with her family, in 1936 and 1937. Her brothers worked in the logging industry, and her mother was eager to get the whole family together, so they rented a cabin at what used to be the Lineham’s mink ranch, prior to the Depression. According to Betsy, the remnants of the mink ranch remained, in the form of cages all over the property.

Making their way to Green Lake, the family of six didn’t travel lightly. At a time when travelling meant you had to take the train, the DeBecks managed to bring what might as well have been their own zoo with them: a cow, McGee, Molly, and a spaniel named Freckles. Not to be limited to four animals, they also rented two horses, and had a third horse which her brother Denis apparently found. Not one of them had prior experience riding a horse as they led their rentals away from the barn, but that’s another story altogether.

So if McGee came from a farmer’s market in New Westminster, where did Molly come from? Apparently Molly formerly went by the name “Crisco,” after her penchant for breaking into the cookhouse in Bella Coola, where she lived, and eating Crisco to her heart’s content. Betsy’s father Edward was working in Bella Coola, and decided to bring the bear cub to his family, staying at the mink ranch. As you can imagine, her owners were not remotely reluctant to give her away. Although Betsy’s mother initially said she would leave the instant the bear cub arrived, she was easily swayed when Molly got off the train and promptly wrapped her arms around her legs.

Molly standing on her hind legs. She looks quite different from Teddy in this photograph.

The travel from Bella Coola included taking a ship to Vancouver, and then the train from Vancouver to Alta Lake. While onboard the ship, Molly spent her time in Edward’s sleeper cabin. When Edward ran into a friend who had a rough night on the boat and needed some sleep, he promptly turned over the keys to his cabin, neglecting to mention that Molly was fast asleep on the couch. It seems that the friend initially thought he was hallucinating, but was a bit of a jokester too, so he quickly saw the humor in the situation.

After the second summer at Green Lake in 1937, the DeBeck family was moving on to Victoria. While they had a large lot in New Westminster and were able to keep animals, they were moving to a small city lot in Victoria, and had to say goodbye to their motley crew of pets, save for Freckles the spaniel. The DeBecks approached the Alaric family, who had a logging operation on Green Lake, and sold them the cow, Molly and McGee.

Molly and McGee enjoy a meal together in 1937.

The story of Molly the Bear highlights how easy it is for something to take hold and then continue to be perpetuated until it becomes an inextricable part of the history, taken to be true. One such tale is that Teddy and the piglet (now know to be Molly and McGee) were the best of friends until one day Teddy got a bit hungry and decided to eat the piglet. There is no truth to this, but it was repeated so many times it became easy to believe. Even when we learned that the piglet wasn’t consumed, we no longer questioned whether the bear in the photograph was Teddy. It’s amazing to realize the power of a single image.

By collecting oral histories, we are working to build a stronger understanding of Whistler’s history – Molly is just a small (and cute!) example of how effective these interviews are proving to be. Perhaps there are other photographs in the collection like this one, waiting for the story behind them to be unlocked as we speak with early residents of the valley.

November Speaker Series: Johnny “Foon” Chilton and “The Energy of the Mountains”November Speaker Series: Johnny “Foon” Chilton and “The Energy of the Mountains”

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While there are dozens of different reasons why people love the mountains, for the most part they boil down to one thing: energy. Whether it’s the raw, encompassing power of mountain environments, the vitality one feels when immersed in the alpine, or even the myriad spiritual associations that have been made with these sublime landscapes, the mountains’ unique  energy is undeniable.

It’s also infectious, a fact made apparent when you speak to Johnny “Foon” Chilton. This November 16th the prolific Pemberton-based ski-mountaineer will be sharing his passion for the mountains at the Whistler Museum as part of our monthly Speaker Series.

Johnny at Mount Fee, mid-nineties.

Skiing professionally for nearly two decades Chilton has racked up dozens of first descents throughout B.C.’s Coast Mountains. Two years ago Chilton embarked upon his latest mountain adventure, one that sees him on the opposite end of the ski-industry spectrum.

A cabinet-maker by trade, Chilton began handcrafting skis designed specifically for the Coast Mountains’ legendary terrain, as well as the discerning tastes of their hard-charging skiers. What’s more, all the wood in Foon’s skis comes from trees grown right here in the Coast Mountains.

The end product is an extension of Johnny’s conviction that when it comes to ski design, soul is just as crucial as sidecut, Here’s his take on the inspiration for Foon Skis’ compelling life-cycle:

The mountains are alive; alive as a greater organism.  We, like the trees and animals that live on the mountains, are a part of THEM. Not the other way around. And as such I have been inspired to make skis that are part of the mountains, made from the trees of B.C.’s Coast mountains with the hands and the energy of a man from B.C.’s Coast mountains.

Drawing from his first-hand knowledge of the history of coastal ski mountaineering, Chilton’s aim for the talk is to inspire and share what the mountains mean to him. Expect a presentation full of drama, passion, and amazing photos, and expect to leave energized for another winter of mountain adventure.

Johnny skiing Mount Howard, in the Duffey Lake region of the Coast Mountains.

Advanced ticket purchase is recommended, as capacity for this event is limited to 50. Tickets are available for purchase at the Museum, or by calling 604-932-2019.

Sign up to our Facebook event page here.

Complimentary tea & coffee courtesy of Whistler Roasting Company will be provided, and there will be a cash bar as well.                                                      

The Whistler Museum Speaker Series is an ongoing series of presentations covering a wide variety of topics related to mountain history, culture, and environment, travel, and adventure. Presentations are held in the evening at the Museum. It occurs on the third Wednesday of most months.