Canada 1999 Week 3 Part 2

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Week 3 Part 2

Kamloops to Revelstoke...

Onward! I was looking at a road that promised to take me to Jasper...but instead, I turned east toward Revelstoke. Why? I don't know! Wasn't sorry to leave Kamloops, which was a bit big, a bit stark and a bit busy. The drive became prettier and prettier, with views such as that to the left.

Heading in to Revelstoke, the view (pic right) was dominated by a weird red hotel-thing. I found the HI hostel, and this place was a real shock. Totally re-done inside, new everything: oak floors, glass doors, oak beds (double beds!), sumptuous linen and doonas, all provided. Was this really a youth hostel?! Revelstoke Traveller's Guest House...go take a look. Free internet access, too!
It was pretty empty. There were some fisher-folk staying there, and not many others. The weather was warming up, but the town was empty.

I was in a room with a chap from Denmark, Lars, who had been working in Canada for some months and was now travelling. He decided to come with me and ski the local hill. Revelstoke boasts some heli-skiing operations, and also a snow-cat operation on Mt McKenzie. On the lower bit of the mountain, they have A Lift, and Some Runs.
So we set off in the fog to find it. After heading up a likely-looking road, we found a small car park, and a shed. We went in. "Is this Mount McKenzie?" we asked.
"Yes, but it's called Powder Springs now" was the reply. Ah! "When does the lift start?" we then asked. "Oh, when there's a few more people here" they said.
We went outside; the fog was fast lifting, and Ski Patrol were setting up the area. The Lift was an OLD double chair. And in keeping with the marketing hype-ese that had seen them name the place Powder Springs, they'd given the Lift a spiffy, zappy name too. I took a picture of the sign, as no-one would believe me otherwise.
The trail map was a black and white affair, on thermal paper.

The Base Area! Ski Patrol sets up the lift-race: paper streamers and some bamboo...they expected a queue?!

It was warming up, so we chucked our coats in the car, and headed up The Slug (once it wheezed into life) to view The Runs. Reading the board (see below), I felt a sense of deja-vu. Hmmm.
Lars propsed that we attack this mountain in a scientific manner, starting at the left and working our way across. It seemed that the run ratings were quite simple to work out. The green runs were roads to the bottom. The blue runs were straight down and groomed, the black runs were straight down and ungroomed.
A bonus was the roads for the snowcat snaking up the hill: these cut into the runs, and offered even the air-allergic enough temptation to jump.

As the day wore on, quite a crowd from the town turned up, and the paper-streamer lift-race was actually needed. The frozen corduroy became slush (of the highest quality). The locals were notable for their skiing virtuosity. Even the poor skiiers looked good, and the good ones were quite awesome. Must be the water there or something.

We actually managed to fall off the chair lift, to the excitment of the crowd.

Gettin' Air was the order of the day. Everyone was into it. From the chair, we saw one kid get 2 and a half rotations, with grab, so close to the lift pylon I swear he took off a layer of paint. Everyone went through the half-pipe: mums, dads, kids, the dog...

Lunch was an adventure: Lars had a little tripod for his camera, and it fitted my camera as well! I'd never used the delay function, and the first picture was taken while I was scratching my head behind it. "How does this thing work?"

These little screw-in tripods are brilliant for the lone traveller; you can adjust the legs so the camera will sit on anything, and point anywhere. So you can get into your own photos. This may not be a good thing...

This time, I just made it

In all, it was a really superb day. This place didn't compare, ski-wise, with the two world-class resorts I'd so-far skiied. But for fun? Top marks. A very silly hill, run by some very friendly people, and skiied by a lot of friendly people. We two were the Official Foreigners that day, and as soon as we decided this was our last run, they closed the lift. The locals happily argued about this but Patrol were adamant.
Back in Revelstoke, we went for a bit of a walk and an explore, and I wished there was an excuse to stay on a bit, as the place (and the excellent hostel) was stunning.

The following day I returned to the hill (might as well, it was free! Forgot to mention that...staying at the hostel meant free skiing!) while Lars headed for Kelowna. It was really warm, and quite a few people arrived early...something was up! It was closing day for the hill, and a carnival was planned. Near The Slug, some people were building an obstacle course (with doors?!), and later some kind of event was held there. There were races, and the place became quite crowded. I seemed to meet and chat with everyone on the hill that day...
Eventually I got talked into joining some people who dragged some old lounge chairs out into the snow, and hooked into the local beer, while we watched an impromtu aerials competion on the side of the half-pipe by some local boyz and grrlz. Most were on full length skis, and carrying poles, but it didn't stop inversions, spins and laid-out flips. Some of the stunts were pretty impressive, and we were apparently the judges. The skiiers absolutely murdered the boarders, it was no contest.Points were allocated by making noise. As you can guess, it was a pretty fun day!

Back in Revelstoke again, it was time to plan the next step. Across to Banff? (been there). Out and around to Panorama and Fernie (been there). Or down and around to Nelson, and then Red Mountain? The latter route was the winner. Gee, I was sorry to leave that hostel!

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