Blackcomb in all its glory. Photos: Steve Andrews
With a wink acknowledging the media’s penchant for giving weather patterns eye-catching names, a “Bomb Cyclone” hit the British Columbia coast on Tuesday. The storm delivered hurricane-force winds and up to 40-foot waves. It also brought cold temperatures down from Alaska, so much so that it snowed at sea level in Vancouver earlier this week.
Seeing mid-November snow on the temperate coast had me knowing deep-down that the mountains were getting hammered. And sure enough, upon checking the snow report, the storm delivered a season-opening gift to Whistler Blackcomb. I always get excited for opening day, but this one seemed to be another overnight success that hadn’t brought snow this hard and fast in eight years.
The first day of the season in any ski town is a fun ritual to catch up with pals you haven’t seen since the spring (or even longer), dust off the cobwebs, and figure out what gear you neglected over the summer. But this year, the Pacific Northwest has been hit particularly hard with an onslaught of cold moisture. They are still yet to “officially” call it a La Nina, but it’s looking pretty good so far from the coast.
Earning it after the rope drop.
So yes, the stoke was in the air in the morning and the lines were long, and if you want to see some of that, there’s plenty on social media (Blackcomb opened Thursday, Whistler Friday). What most of the hype train won’t show you though is just how good it was in the alpine, with zero crowds and abundant powder for anyone willing to hike.
I got up late and missed the hype train of waiting in line and frothing. Doing so had me at a much more relaxed pace that can only come with age, I suppose. I caught up with an old friend from the days when we lived in Parking Lot 4 in Whistler Village, a small community of dirtbag ski and bike bums who stayed rent-free next to the skatepark. Those days living in my Subaru were different times, for sure.
Joining us was my friend’s landlord, Justin Lamoureux. Justin is a Whistler legend. He’s a halfpipe Olympian and World Cup champion, a guide at Bella Coola (where they boast an operating area larger than Switzerland), and founder-maker of Spline Snowboards. Having a guy like that in your posse definitely ups the confidence to go crush some bigger lines.
Zero to Epic: We’re here for it.
As we got off the newly revamped Jersey Cream chair, I saw my buddy James McSkimming, a local legend who nailed a cover shot on Powder magazine last year. He’s also a patroller and had access to their radio channel, giving us insider information that they were going to open the alpine to uphill access. Everything seemed to be lining up perfectly when the patrollers came to remove the closure sign.
Forty-five minutes later, we found ourselves at the top of the 7th Heaven chairlift, looking down over 2,000 feet of yet-to-be-touched perfection. People pay big money to ride heli-ski slopes like this, and all we had to do was get a nice aerobic workout. Looking into the distance, we could see the onlookers watching us paint lines on a fresh canvas while all they could do is wonder how. The amount of people that only equate skiing and snowboarding to “downhill riding” continues to surprise me.
It wasn’t all fun and games though, and in a “please don’t tell my wife” moment I came within a few inches of serious injury, or worse when the snow gave out from under me as we made a steep traverse. Stoke can be a powerful filter against danger, unfortunately. Early season conditions mean the snowpack had not settled and bonded to the rock, and as I traversed, the snow totally gave out and took me for a bit of a ride. I managed to stop myself just in time before I would have fallen 30 or so feet into jagged rock.
But the run afterward was worth it. Nearly 2,500 vertical feet of sustained pitch through knee-deep powder, with nothing but excited yells in abundance. The hike out to the cat track took a ton of effort, requiring us to post-hole each step through the fresh snow, all of which will soon be groomed and hosting up to 30,000 people per day. But for our crew, we had the entire zone to ourselves, christening the 2024-2025 season on a very high note. I’m heading back up today.
