Mar. 11, 2009 - Issue #699: Witch
Fernie: The grizzly side of alpine life
Known as the Griz, this mythical mountain man and powder provider is a legend more likely born from an RCR marketer’s reverie than local superstition. Nonetheless, it resonates as a symbol of rugged mountain aesthetic and powder obsession.
To me, the legend of Fernie is rooted in the solitude of tree riding in my youth. Before cheap two-way radios, before anyone thought of setting meeting places, I loved riding here. Skiing and riding the glades, groups were often separated. My memories are of deep snow, the smell of pine and the texture of tree moss, digging through the tree runs, sucking deep breaths as sweat trickles down my back.
Perennially among the best-snowed BC mountains, it’s also one of the closer slopes to Edmonton. The six and a half hour beeline takes us through the foothills past Crowsnest Pass, Frank’s Slide and big truck Sparwood.
With a population of around 5000 people, Fernie’s snow and terrain has inspired a steady inflow of powderhounds, while pumping out competitive riders at a bizarre pace. Skiers from the Fernie freeride team have recently blitzed to the podium, making names for themselves around the world. Built from 100 per cent local stock, their resumes boast a wide range of achievement, from Jérémy Duchaine’s 2007 world record for the longest rail on skis to Martha Burley’s second place finish in the World Telemark Freeskiing Championships. Members of the team will be competing and filming this year from Switzerland to Alaska to their own backyard.
Above the front desk in the Wolf’s Den Lodge stands a life size diorama of several animals including a grey wolf howling into the abyss. This kind of sincere dedication to the art of the wild suggests we’re staying in the right place—right on the hill and at a price tough to beat.
The journey finds me in the company of the singularly-named Yasir. Not an avid rider, he had packed several Detroit Red Wings jerseys to ward off the wind and cold, as well as some old track pants. He planned on a visit to the lost and found to get some loaners for the rest of his gear.
The boom years of everybody in the freshest, fanciest gear from pro to beginner made his get up all the more refreshing and respectable. But if Yasir were to fit into any big hill in Western Canada, Fernie would be the one.
There is an annual weeklong festival and competition in Fernie where a person is selected who truly exemplifies the mountain spirit, the spirit of the Griz. If the selection were made from this weekend alone, I would vote for Yasir. Proud in Detroit red and white he snowflaked down the hill, getting closer to real turns with each caught edge.
As for the mountain itself, we arrive during an uncharacteristic drought. Though often admittedly crusty, the riding is still fun; there are serious and characteristic inversions in the mornings and bright blue skies in the afternoon.
On our first day I do some short hiking to rider’s right of the Timber Chair where there are a few decent lines in softer snow. According to some other hikers, the farther up along this ridge you go, the more interesting things get. A popular backcountry ride is to hike for a while in this direction then drop off the backside.
At the top of the Timber Chair, The Lost Boy’s Café looks prime with a balcony and picnic tables that jut over the slope and into the horizon, out towards Fernie five kilometres in the distance. Later in the day after checking out mid mountain, I search the more eastern flanks where the well gladed trees aren’t hiding much pow, but the crowds are super light so just cruising and relearning the fabled Fernie is enough, not to mention checking out the interesting chalet and cabin developments that checker this part of the mountain.
I also peer into the new rail park. It boasts a long lineup of varying rails and platforms for jibbers at all levels of talent, but apparently the $75 lift ticket price isn’t enough since entrance to the park dings the partakers of said jibbery an extra five bucks.
After riding, Yasir and I join some hill employees to engage in the long held Fernie tradition of hot tub poaching. We end up soaking in a hotel below the Elk Chair, toasting among comrades until the sky turns purple and the sun sinks behind the Lizard and Currie Bowls.
Fernie hospitality is serious. The Aussie friendliness that is so widespread in the community can momentarily make one suspicious that these friendly chaps are either slow or needy. But as I take the place in, I see them for what they are: respectable, hard riding, beer swilling folk with an enviable lust for life.
Our second day of riding brings Yasir a day closer to mastery of toe side turning. He commences a steady yodel as he comes down the hill.
Non-existent lift lines and the jovial atmosphere in the Griz Bar are important additions to the day’s riding. Most of the locals often claim to stick to the flanks of the mountain on days like these, riding left of the Timber Chair or right off Boomerang.
Following their lead I poach a hidden turn under a tree here or there. On my final run of the day I share a lift up the Boomerang chair with some lifties who seem learned in the ways of this mountain, so I follow them. From a few metres behind, I skit on their tails into a narrow path leading to a traverse. Through the trees to the right of Boomerang, they slice downward directly across a run and into another tree pass. I give chase. There are patches of undisturbed snow everywhere, as I ride hard to keep up.
At the end of the day Yasir and I notice smoke billowing up from a buzzing little resto just down the hill, connected to the far end of the Wolf’s Den. Gabriella’s Little Italy pasta joint is an unpretentious shot at quality Italian cuisine. With the modest grandeur of Fernie in the background, its red checker table cloths, friendly service and affordable vino are all built up around a fine dining experience right on the hill. Several people have recommended it to me as a pillar of the Fernie experience.
We begin the affair with a bottle of Citra Montepulciano D’Abruzzo, the suggested, reliable, affordable favourite (one litre, $22). While very tempted by the “World Famous Trip for Two around Italy,” a six-course voyage for two, it came across as slightly too romantic. We both try the zesty garbanzo tomato soup ($5), spicy and simple, while I select the special, an impressive seafood linguini ($22) and Yasir the Griz makes his bold statement with Gab’s Spicy Penne ($18). As we eat, the place fills up with sweaty skiers and boarders, freshly showered couples, and a couple of large tables of folks who definitely have something to celebrate.
This kind of festivity is common throughout town. Little crowds of hitchhikers gather to snatch up open seats in cars heading to and from the mountain. At night when other ski towns get ghostly, the people of Fernie come out, screening new local films, ducking in and out of the handful of buzzing pubs.
This is what locals do in a lively mountain town. Riding is still the number one priority, but they know how to make the best of off days. Whether they believe in the Griz or not is beside the point. All it takes is one good dump—or, as the legend goes, a musket shot to the sky. V
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