Category: Ski-Town Stories

From Whistler to Blackcomb to Whistler Blackcomb.

Power Up!Power Up!

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Throughout BC we are blessed with an abundance of mighty rivers from which we get almost 90% of our electricity. Here in Whistler we’re surrounded by hydro-generating stations of all sizes, notably the IPP on Fitzsimmons Creek which provides for all of Whistler-Blackcomb’s electricity needs. [Correction – it produces the equivalent of all W-B’s electricity needs, but the power is sent to the province’s main power grid.]

A helpful little diagram of W-B’s Fitzsimmons Creek hydro-electricity plant.

Considering this natural bounty, it’s hard to believe that a mere 50 years ago Alta Lake residents had still not entered the modern electric era.

As Whistlerites have always been wont to do, a few residents took matters into their own hands. Bob Williamson installed a small wind-powered turbine at the south end of Alta Lake but it could only power a few lights when the wind picked up. Dick Fairhurst was more successful with the water-wheel and generator he installed on Scotia Creek in 1954, providing steady, reliable power for his Cypress Lodge (the old hostel building next to Rainbow Park). In later years the Philips had also purchased a gas-powered generator for Rainbow Lodge. But aside from these few enterprising DIY-ers, Alta Lake residents continued on with pre-electric living.

Alta Lake resident Bob Williamson working on a power line, circa 1940s.

Heating was mostly from firewood (some residents had oil or coal-burning furnaces) and bed-time reading was done by candlelight or gas lantern. Refrigeration was accomplished in sheds full of thick ice blocks cut from Alta Lake in winter and insulated through the summer with sawdust from local mills.

This lack of hydro service must have been especially frustrating since high-voltage transmission lines ran through the valley as early as the 1930s, linking the Bridge River Hydro dam to Vancouver. At the same time there were plenty of plans for more hydro-development closer to home, including dams at Garibaldi Lake, Cheakamus Lake, on the Soo River and elsewhere, but that’s another story altogether.

Then in the late 1950s, BC Hydro built the Cheakamus Dam at Daisy Lake and another set of transmission lines linking Seton Portage to Squamish was constructed. Ironically, work crews for the power lines (which included a young Peter Alder, the influential ski area manager/developer who continues to call Whistler home) were even housed at the still-unserviced Rainbow Lodge for some time. Still, no infrastructure was provided to convert the 230,000 volts running through the valley into something a little more manageable for the residents of Alta Lake.

It wasn’t until November 1965, a few months before ski operations on Whistler Mountain began, that the Rainbow Substation was finally completed. It was only fitting that Alex and Myrtle Philip were the honourary guests at the opening ceremonies. In typically stylish fashion the Philips were a little late for the event, but as Alex noted, “after 54 years without hydro, what’s five minutes?”

The Philips attend the Rainbow Substation opening ceremony in typically stylish fashion, 18 November, 1965. Left to right: unidentified, Alex Philip, long-time Whistler resident and BC Hydro employe Rolley Horsey, Myrtle Philip.

Alex was granted the honour of actually flipping the switch that finally energized the valley. Unable to conceal the thrill of the moment, Alex let out an excited “I did it!” and a new era dawned upon the Whistler Valley. For the now-retired Philips this meant they could spend the winter at Alta Lake, instead of with friends in the city as they had in previous years.

The Philips tour the new Rainbow substation with an unidentified BC Hydro employee, November 18, 1965.

And so a new era dawned for the Whistler Valley, albeit a little late. According to Wladek “Walter” Zebrowski‘s biography In Search of Freedom, the arrival of electricity almost prevented Whistler’s development into the massive resort it is today. While clearing his land near what would soon become Creekside in July 1964, Zebrowski was suddenly drawn from his work by the deafening roar of a helicopter setting down nearby:

A man got out–it was Bob Brown, a surveyor for the B.C. Hydro Corporation–and he informed Wladek that a power line was going to be put through his land.The forty meter wide line with transmission towers… was to cut through the whole valley (today the centre of town with the town and and four large residential areas). The plans had been already made, the land had been prepared and many tress had been cut out. He was here just to take the last measurements as the construction was to start very soon.

The book continues to recount how Zebrowski immediately halted working and drove to Vancouver to inform Franz Wilhelmson at the GLC offices. The next day they met with B.C. Hydro Chairman Dr. Gordon Shrum and convinced them to relocate the transmission line so as not to interfere with the planned ski area and adjoining residential developments. Instead, the high transmission lines run along the west side of the valley–the more populated side during the Alta Lake era–leaving room for Whistler to develop into its current state.

(Mountain) Man’s Best Friend.(Mountain) Man’s Best Friend.

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As the mercury in our thermometers and the snowline on our mountains continue to plunge, you can sense the excitement levels rising around the community. Whistlerites love to play in the snow, and a good many of us work in it too. The same goes for the dogs of Whistler. It’s becoming more and more common to see local dogs lapping up face shots as they chase their owners down backcountry ski slopes.

For some dogs, this surprising agility and seemingly unlimited energy in deep snow, combined with their amazingly keen sense of smell make them a huge asset in the mountains. Most of us know about St. Bernards, named for the Swiss mountain pass where monks bred the renowned rescue dogs. Dating back to the Medieval Period, St Bernards were credited with saving hundreds, if not thousands of snow-bound travelers atop the high-alpine pass.

Edmund Landseer’s 1820 painting “Alpine Mastiffs Reanimating a Distressed Traveller” is the reputed source of the St. Bernard-brandy myth. While Landseer’s hyperactive imagination invented the mini-kegs, the scene does show the dogs in their leaner, shorter-haired form. As well, while alcohol might make you feel warmer, it can actually accelerate the onset of hypothermia, making it less than ideal for rescuing victims of avalanches and blizzards.

Fewer are aware that in the early nineteenth century a series of deadly winters led the monks to cross-breed their remaining dogs with Newfoundlands. The resulting dogs were bulkier and had longer hair that clumped up in deep snow. Today St. Bernards are big and cuddly, but essentially useless in the mountains.

German Shepherds are much better-suited for mountain rescue. This is one of many bits of mountain-dog trivia one can learn from long-time Whistlerite Bruce Watt (apparently, the mini-keg of brandy around the St. Bernard’s necks is myth, as well). And Bruce should know; thirty years ago the former Whistler Mountain ski patroller successfully trained and certified Canada’s first civilian avalanche rescue dog.

This coming Wednesday Bruce will be giving a presentation about his role in the creation of the Canadian Avalanche Rescue Dog Association (CARDA) as part of the Whistler Museum’s monthly Speaker Series (event details available here). And yes, a real-life avalanche rescue dog will be there too!

The initial impulse to train avalanche dogs in Canada dates back to 1979. That winter Bruce Watt and an exchange patroller from Utah were buried by a large avalanche on the north slopes of Whistler Peak. Luckily, they both survived, but Bruce emerged from the near-catastrophe determined to contribute to snow safety and help prevent future tragedies.

Inspired by similar programs in the Alps and the western United States, Bruce decided to explore the possibilities of training an avalanche rescue dog. I’ll let Bruce explain what came next, but his efforts were well worth it, as today there are thirty-one certified rescue dog teams across western Canada.

As part of their training rescue dogs learn to ride on snowmobiles, in or hanging from helicopters, even on the shoulders of skiers! Photo courtesy CARDA

A 1998 incident in the Grouse Mountain backcountry clearly demonstrates how much the rescue dogs can contribute to stressful, complicated and hazardous winter search-and-rescue operations. During a heavy storm a skier had been caught in an avalanche and a search crew of eight rescuers and two dogs set out to recover the victim. With the avalanche hazard still high, the team found themselves in a compromised situation, “it was a very steep, cliffed area and just a rotten, horrible place to be,” recalls Bruce Brink, a Blackcomb ski patroller who took part in the search.

Without dogs, they would have been resigned to a time-consuming probe search requiring dozens of individuals. Instead, the two dog/handler teams were able to quickly the area in minutes, as the others stayed back, away from the slide risk. Convinced the victim was not in the area the teams pulled back.

Minutes later a class 2 avalanche swept through the search area and over a two-hundred foot cliff. “By having the dogs there we saved five or six lives, easy” Brink asserts.

Their agility and keen sense of smell enables rescue dogs to search avalanche debris much faster then a human, and the victim doesn’t need to be wearing a transceiver. Photo courtesy CARDA.

With the coming winter in mind (La Nina!), Bruce’s talk promises to provide a compelling reminder of the ever-present risks in the mountains, while offering well-deserved recognition for the numerous individuals, human and canine alike, who endure countless hours and serious hardship to make these alpine playgrounds safer for us all. And yes, the rescue dogs, like their human counterparts, play as hard as they work up their in the mountains!

Photo courtesy CARDA.

An Interview with Gaper Day’s Big Boss Man, Jamie BondAn Interview with Gaper Day’s Big Boss Man, Jamie Bond

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As our calendars flip from May to June we also bid adieu to winter operations on Blackcomb Mountain, which finished May 30th. For many of us, the annual end of lift service is the death knell of our already-waning ski ambitions. This being Whistler, however, others choose to send winter off in style! Over the past 15 years, what began as the frivolous antics of a few winter zealots has grown into a veritable Whistler institution. I’m talking about Gaper Day of course.

Jamie rallying the gapers

In typical Whistler fashion, anything goes, but the gist of the event is as follows: on the last day of winter ski operations dress up in the most ridiculous outfit you can muster, get to skier’s plaza before noon for the Gaper Day pep rally, then head up the mountain and celebrate the close of another glorious winter by unleashing every last drop of giddy, childish antics still remaining from the previous six months of pure powder pleasure.

Extra points if your skis are part of the joke. Older skis also come in handy since, in an ode to the changing seasons, Gapers are expected to ride as much as possible off the snow—dirt, rocks, trees, ponds, even concrete stairs invariably enter the mix.

I recently caught up with long-time local and Gaper Day mastermind Jamie Bond to talk about the wildly popular season-ender bender.

Whistler Museum: So how did it all begin?

Jamie Bond: Good question. Our first Gaper Day began when we took a year off to ski-bum in Europe in 1996. There were lots of drunk Swedish people partying and skiing and we decided we should bring this together into something fun, so at the end of the season everybody got together, dressed up in jeans and tight shirts and whatever else and pretty much got silly and kept it real all day. That became “Ski in Jeans Day,” which lasted about five or six years until we realized that “Ski in Jeans Day” was just far too limiting for people’s ski creativity, so then it became “Gaper Day” and now you can do whatever the hell you want.

WM: Who came up with the name “Gaper Day”?

JB: I don’t know. I think it was just, what else could you really call it? The whole day is about just making fun of skiing, so why not dress up like a “gorbie” or a “gaper.” “Gaper Day” just flows off the tongue so it just kinda stuck. Year after year we noticed that Gaper Day is all over North America now. I don’t know if it all stems from the Whistler Gaper Day or it’s just a crazy coincidence of awesomeness, but it’s pretty exciting to see.

 

“Bring out the cough medicine cause it’s gonna be sick!”

 

WM: Considering Whistler’s long-standing reputation for being at the forefront of skiing culture, would you say that Gaper Day is the most influential and progressive thing to ever come from here?
JB: Well, it’s certainly changed my life (laughter), and it certainly progresses progression, if you know what I mean (more laughter). But it is pretty funny seeing all those world cup ski racers and world champion big-mountain freeskiers who are out doing all that other influential stuff that Whistler is known for. A heck of a lot of them show up for Gaper Day every year. Who knows where they get their inspiration from but we can’t help but think that a little piece of Gaper Day, you know, they take it with them every year.
WM: How has it changed over the years? You said it started out just jeans and t-shirts…
JB: Yeah. It just gets bigger every year. It started out as a group of buddies skiing in t-shirts and jeans and you see groups like that on any given weekend these days. But it seems like for sure the biggest gathering of Gapers is on the last day of Blackcomb’s season. I’d say in the last couple of years the biggest change is that now it’s just a phenomenon. You don’t need a Facebook group or you don’t need to phone a bunch of friends and rally them up and force them to come out for Gaper Day. It just happens. So I think our life quest is complete because now Gaper Day will continue forever onwards.
WM: It’s taken on a life of it’s own.
JB: Yeah.

The 2011 Gapers

WM: So what’s next for Gaper Day? Where do you see it going, then?

JB: Good question. We were going to do the Gaper Olympics last year, but organized sport is way too, you know, confined for the creative expression of a typical gaper (laughter). So we’re just going to have to get more and more people. This year or next year we might introduce “Silly-goating” champions, whereby there would be a points system kind of like a Shane McConkey-inspired game of “GNAR,” like down there in Squaw Valley. We’re thinking of using a similar scoring system, and we’ll see if we can crown some silly-goating world champions over the next few years.

WM: See how quickly you can get banned from the mountain?

JB: Exactly, yeah! (laughter). It’s quite suspicious that they extended the season this year so that it ends on a random Monday, which is an American long weekend. Boy would it have been rowdy if it ended last Monday for the Canadian long weekend. Gaper Day would have been off the hook… It could be some higher power trying to curb Gaper Day. I’m pretty sure that Whistler-Blackcomb is cool enough to appreciate all that is “gaper,” so that probably wasn’t the real reason.

WM: Has the mountain ever given you a hard time, or patrol?

JB: Not really. They’re pretty good about it. There’s never been any point in endorsing it because it’s kind of a (laughter), uh, rabble-rousing day. I think they’ve been supportive of it. They just ask from now on that all gapers obey the “leave no trace” policy because now there’s patrollers stuck cleaning up after us. So why not just keep it real and pack you junk out with you at the end of the day?

WM: Fair enough. What are stand out moments or antics from over the years?

JB: Oh yeah, there’s been a few. I’d say the first few seasons of skiing out to the valley with about 2,000 feet of dirt and grass are probably some highlights, and now it’s an annual classic at the end of the day. The uber-hush hush water skiing behind Crystal Chair is definitely a Gaper Day legend.

WM: Last year’s 360 was pretty big.

JB: Yeah, Sheldon Steckman’s pond-skim 360 was caught on film from many angles last year. There’s been broken skis. There’s been concussions. Some good rappelling action. Spelunking. More than a few people up to their necks in ponds. You know, people progressing progression, taking the sport to places it was never meant to be. All sorts of quality action.

WM: What do you think it is about retro ski outfits that pretty much everyone loves them in every ski town, to the point where you see them every weekend on the hill now?

JB: I don’t know. I think it goes back to a time when skiing was a little bit more fun and a little bit goofier. Everything’s pretty serious these days. Even the freeskiing events that were meant to be by definition “free” skiing, are now organized Olympic sports, that sort of thing. I think everyone appreciates a little bit of good old-fashioned ski fun. And what better way than to dress up stupid like they did in the past, and keep it real. Plus, a tight one-piece on a chick is highly flattering.

WM: Not so much dudes?

JB: Uhhh, it depends on the day I guess, and the angle.

WM: Do you have any last words, any inspirational quotes or anything like that that you want to add?

JB: Well, one frequent Gaper Day dude, Jon Burr, often says “Bring out the cough medicine cause it’s gonna be sick!” I think that’s a pretty good warning for everyone for this Gaper Day and Gaper Days to come.

WM: Awesome, I think those are pretty wise words to end it on.

For more stories, images, and videos of Gaper Days past, present, and future, check out Doglotion.com