Category: Profiles

Profiles of Alta Lake and Whistler residents.

Ol’ MacOl’ Mac

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Last week’s post profiled a former Whistlerite who came to this valley with dreams of resort development, so I figured I’d switch it up this week and recount the story of a local figure who came here with very different intentions, to escape from the stresses of modernity into a quiet life of mountain-bound solitude.

William “Mac” MacDermott was born somewhere in the American Midwest in 1869 or 1870. We know little of his early life, but his experiences as a soldier during World War 1 eventually led him to the Canadian wilderness. Mac suffered severe injuries while fighting (some Alta Lake contemporaries mentioned that he also suffered from shell shock) and he left the army disillusioned with the senseless violence of modern civilization.

Mac (left) with local guest-lodge owner Russ Jordan and a boy (possibly Russ’s son) near Singing Pass, 1920s.

After the war he spent a brief stint prospecting for gold in the Cariboo before heading back down the PGE railway to Alta Lake, where he settled in 1919. The tranquility of this quiet mountain valley was perfectly suited to his gentle demeanor; Mac made Alta Lake his home for the next 25 years.

He built a handful of log cabins at the south end of Alta Lake, one for himself, the others he operated as rental properties during the summer months. I guess, in a sense,  Mac was a real estate developer too.

Vancouver’s Matheson family spent two months at Mac’s cabins every summer from 1927 until 1934. Betty Jane Warner (née Matheson) was just a young girl during this period, but in correspondence with the Whistler Museum from June of 2011, she vividly recalled those action-packed summer getaways.

We children thought [Mac] was wonderful, truly a favourite of ours and we would visit him often in his cabin. He played the juice harp, smoked a lot, was a great spitter, swore and turned his flapjacks by tossing them sky-high, hitting the ceiling and miraculously catching them back in the pan. A marvellous feat… He was a great hiker and would take [Matheson siblings] Jack, Claudia and me on many treks to Lost Lake and Green Lake.

A lifelong bachelor, Mac endeared himself so much with the Matheson family that he would often trek down to the city during the winter holidays, which could be quite cold and lonely up in the mountains. As Betty remembers

We would pick him up at the Abbotsford Hotel on Pender Street… He would always present each of we three children with one green dollar. There was no better gift or more welcome guest around our festive table than to have Mac join us for Christmas Day.

While beloved by children, other Alta Lake locals recall Mac’s cabin as a preferred spot for some of the men to “get away from the wives” for a few hours. On one occasion, Some of Alex Philip’s Vancouver friends were having such a good evening that they didn’t want to get back on the train to head back to the city, even though they had to work the next day. Knowing the PGE wouldn’t let them on the train soaking wet, the two men accidentally “fell” into the lake. Now stuck at Alta Lake, the men had no choice but to return to the party.

Ice-cutting day was an Alta Lake February tradition (ice blocks were cut out of the lake ice to provide refrigeration in insulated through the summer months), and after the work Alta Lake staples like Alex Philip and Bert Harrop would come over to enjoy some of Mac’s popular homebrews.

Aside from managing his cabins, Mac supported his simple mountain lifestyle with a variety of casual jobs; carpentry, building rowboats, and trapping, but it as a guide for work crews and hikers heading up into the mountains that he is best remembered.

Mac (2nd from left) with a crew of men helping Jimmy Fitzsimmons set up a load of dynamite to be hauled up to Fitzsimmons’ copper mine on the north flank of Whistler Mountain, circa 1919. The creek that they followed to get to the mine is known today as Fitzsimmons Creek, which runs along the edge of Whistler Village and provides the hydro-electricity for Whistler-Blackcomb mountain operations.

Mac’s stamina and enthusiasm on the trail were renowned among locals. Bob Williamson recalled how Mac would brew extra-strong tea to keep energy levels up ( “Awful tasting stuff” Bob remembered), and when that wouldn’t suffice, he’d engage in some “verbal coaching”: “holy ol’ moccasins can’t you climb that little bit?’ he’d shout. Everybody loved Mac.”

Mac’s favourite destination was up the Fitzsimmons Valley along the  Singing Pass Trail. In the sub-alpine meadows there was an old trappers’ cabin maintained by Mac and fellow Alta Lake mountain man Billy Bailiff, which they used on overnight hikes towards the larger peaks at the back of the Fitzsimmons Range.

In the Whistler Archives we have a great collection of photos from a 1928 hike that Mac took with Myrtle Philip, and two of her young staff from Rainbow Lodge, Lena Hanson and Mollie Stephenson.

Mac with Lena Hanson and Mollie Stephenson at the Singing Pass trapper’s cabin (photo by Myrtle Philip), 1928. The Seventh Heaven ski area and Blackcomb Peak are visible at far right background.

 

Inside the cabin.

After spending a night at the cabin, they headed up over Cowboy Ridge to Fissile (then known as Red Mountain).

Mac and the girls snow-climbing on the flanks of Fissile Mountain, during the same 1928 hike.

This was exactly the life that Mac had envisioned when he first escaped to this remote Canadian outpost. He stayed on at Alta Lake until his death in 1946 at the age of 76.

Locals Profile – Walter ZebrowskiLocals Profile – Walter Zebrowski

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Extensive (excessive?) development. Cutting-edge facilities. Running Water. It’s easy to take Whistler as we know it today for granted. With these mountains, these lakes, this snow, how could things have turned out otherwise? But it doesn’t work that way.

Everything around us is a product of the past.  Stuff happens, and usually, people are behind it.

One of the most influential figures in the early development of what eventually became Whistler was the strong-willed and gregarious Polish immigrant Walter Zebrowski.

Zebrowski’s WW2-era skis now rest in the Whistler Museum Archives.

Born in Skierniewice, Poland in 1913, Zebrowski was uprooted from his quiet, small-town life as a soldier during World War 2. This fascinating story is far too long to tell here (his book-length biography In Search of Freedom is available at the museum for those curious for more details), but it led him from Poland to Portugal, England to Uzbekistan, Iran, Iraq, Israel, Egypt and many points in between. By war’s end he had attained the rank of Lieutenant Colonel, escaped from the Nazis twice, and received various medals and awards from Poland, Britain, France, and Italy. Of special note to mountain-folk, he specialized in mountain warfare and many of his exploits were carried out on skis.

After the war, rather than return to communist Poland, Zebrowski traveled to Canada’s west coast to establish a new life. From 1948 until 1964 he lived in Burnaby with his wife Hanka and his daughter Eva, establishing a successful chicken farm among other business ventures.

His new home allowed him to re-visit his love of the mountains, often visiting the North Shore and Garibaldi Park. It was during one of his frequent ski trips to Diamond Head Chalet (near today’s Elfin Lakes huts) that he developed his vision for the potential development of a ski resort in the southern Coast Mountains.

Beginning in the early 1960s he began exploring for suitable lands. By 1962 he began winding down his farm and was preparing to move to the mountains, having purchased lots around where Creekside is today. Keep in mind that Whistler Mountain didn’t begin ski operations until February 1966 (some call this luck or “right place, right time”; others call it vision.)

Over the next three decades Zebrowski was one of the most active developers in the Whistler Valley. He started out alone in the woods, clearing the land and building roads with his bulldozer. By the time he was done he had developed most of today’s Nordic Estates neighborhood, played a central role in the establishment of the Whistler Water Works, the volunteer fire department, the Whistler Rotary Club, the Chamber of Commerce, and even brought television to the valley for the first time. If you’re outside, look up to the top of Sproatt Mountain where you can see his tv-signal repeater station.

Walter makes an appearance in the Squamish Citizen, circa 1985.

Of all his contributions to Whistler my personal favourite is the beautiful Eva Lake Park. Dedicated to his daughter, this pocket of wilderness hidden in the middle of Nordic was actually fully landscaped by Walter while doubtful onlookers watched in puzzlement. He even stocked the lake with trout, which, despite the naysayers, continue to thrive in the small pond to this day. Reading, writing, or merely soaking in the solitude is my favourite “quiet time” activity this town has to offer.

Still at it at 80!

A relentless booster of Whistler, his influence extended far beyond his own projects. Passionate and outspoken, he never hesitated to offer his opinion in all aspects of the community. His philanthropy extended to many local organizations including the museum, and his commemorative scholarship supports youth who exemplify his ideals citizenship. One of Whistler’s earliest champions, Walter Zebrowski passed away in 1996 but his legacy continues to thrive, built into the very landscape of his adopted home.

Walter feeding the fish at Eva Lake Park.

Cliff Fenner: Mountain Man.Cliff Fenner: Mountain Man.

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While our events and exhibitions garner most of the attention, there is a third, equally important component of the Museum’s activities: managing our archives. This might not sound that exciting, but an archive is essentially a community’s collective memory, at least on paper. If you considers the sharpness of some people’s memories around here you begin to realize how crucial our archives are.

Anyone interested in the history of our local mountains will be excited by one of Sarah and Brad‘s latest projects: accessioning the Cliff Fenner fonds. (“Fond” is archive-speak for a distinct collection of documents, usually an organization’s documents or someone’s personal files.)

Cliff Fenner was born in 1909 in England where he built a solid career in the timber industry. After helping manage and maintain the crucial  flow of commodities for the Allied war effort, in 1947 he moved to Vancouver. Here he bounced around a few more logging camps, then helped run Mount Seymour Park for a few years, before accepting the position of Park Supervisor for Garibaldi Provincial Park in 1953.

A Vancouver Province article on Fenner.

For the next few decades Fenner’s job mainly consisted of hiking around Garibaldi’s vast mountainscapes observing wildlife, leading trail crews, and advising on the park’s development. Dream job, anyone?

A year into his warden career Fenner described this twist in his life’s path in a way that’s easy to relate to today:

“I have always loved the outdoors. I’ve had city jobs, of course. Even thought about building up my own business, but I’d been exposed to too much good, fresh air.”

Lucky for us, Fenner was more than capable behind the lens; after retiring from the park service he made his living as a travel photographer and writer. Today our archives hold an extensive collection of his photos taken over more than two decades amongst the Coast Mountains.

Other interesting documents in the Fenner Fonds also include:

Another Fenner photo from the same issue of BC Motorist, showing Creekside in its infancy.

We’ve just started to browse the documents and photos, so surely there’s still some goodies yet to be found in there.

An unidentified climbing partner on one of Cliff’s mountaineering trips near Bralorne.

 

George Bury – Whistler’s Least-Known DreamerGeorge Bury – Whistler’s Least-Known Dreamer

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We’re currently in the midst of our 100 Years of Dreams celebrations. The events so far have been a great success and there’s still lots going on this weekend. Check the Museum website for a full rundown.

Since we’re celebrating the 100th anniversary of Alex & Myrtle’s first visit to Alta Lake their story has been getting a lot of coverage of late, but we came up with the “100 Years Of Dreams” tagline because we wanted to celebrate all of the dreamers and icons that have called this valley home over the last century. Far less-known, but nearly just as consequential, is the story of George Bury.

Although the development of the Whistler area for skiing is typically attributed to a group of Vancouver businessmen looking for the next place to host a Winter Olympics in the 1960s, there were earlier attempts at ski development in the area. In May 1939, George Bury and three other skiers found themselves on what they, along with their floatplane pilot, thought was the shore of Alta Lake, laden with eight-foot long skis and 70 pound packs of gear.

On Cheakamus Lake.

They had made the entire journey from Seabird Island in Richmond in the plane and were eager to start skiing. Thus began a ten-day exploratory trip of the area, although in 2007 as Bury looked at maps while recounting his experience, he conceded that it was actually the shores of Cheakamus Lake from which they began their journey.

The crew.

The party included Austrian George Eisenschimel, who had escaped his home country just before Hitler annexed it, and went on to travel through Switzerland, to South America and then British Columbia. Eisenschimel had the idea of developing the area for skiing and took the step of contacting Bury, who at the time was well known for being the four-way champion of Western Canada. This skiing discipline encompassed jumping, cross-country, slalom and downhill. In addition to Eisenschimel, Howard Hamil was a part of the trip. Before hearing from Eisenschimel, Bury had also looked at maps of the region and thought that it had great potential for development.

Their camp near Black Tusk Meadows.

The group was greeted by warm spring conditions, and they spent their time hiking up, heating snow to produce drinking water, and then skiing down to search for another appealing ridge over the ten-day period. Ending their trip with a run down the face of The Barrier, they skied to the edge of the snowline and then hiked to the PGE railroad, where George stood in the middle of the tracks until he was able to flag down the next train and hitch a ride to Squamish.

A timeless tuck.

Not long after this trip, the idea of developing the area for skiing was sidetracked when Bury joined the Royal Canadian Air Force (RCAF) at the beginning of the Second World War. In 1940, a Province Newspaper column entitled, “Athletes in Uniform,” described Bury as “one of the best all-round skiers in the city,” going on to state that, “George joined the Air Force as an air gunner [the previous] April and went to Montreal for training.” After the end of the war, Bury continued his career in radio and communications and never looked back. The group from that 1939 expedition never got back in touch.

In 2007 Bury made his first return to the region since the 1939 ski expedition, aside from his radio, radar and microwave technology training bringing him back to install B.C. Hydro’s microwave system on Black Tusk. Now 98 years old, George and his wife Leona live on Manitoulin Island in Ontario. He still skis, teaching cross-country skiing to First Nations children in the winters, and he is still in possession of his ski instructor’s license- the 38th ever issued in Canada.

Waxing their skis and displaying the height of inter-war era ski fashion.