Endless fresh lines await in the shadow of the granite spires of the Bugaboos.
BUGABOOS
RECOMMENDED BY Fred Noble
What follows is an example of the kind of devotion heli-skiing in the Bugaboos can inspire:
“I started skiing when I was sixteen,” Fred Noble began, “and I always wanted to be in the backcountry. The feeling of isolation, untracked powder snow—it captivated me. After high school, I ski-bummed around the west, visiting ski meccas like Sun Valley, Alta, and Aspen. Subsequently, Squaw Valley, Vail, Jackson Hole, and Snowbird came onto the scene. I immediately headed out to these areas even before there was a book called Fifty Places to Ski and Snowboard Before You Die.
“I started working at a real job, and one day I saw an ad for heli-skiing at $55. That was a lot of coin considering I paid $2.50 for an all-day pass at Alta. Nevertheless, this could be a possibility if I brown-bagged my lunch every day and sold pop bottles. Eventually, I saved enough to head out for the epic ski adventure of a lifetime.
“I loaded my 1958 Volkswagen Beetle with skis, sleeping bag, some cheese, crackers, carrots, and celery, and left Oregon for Valemount in Canada. Fortunately, the VW got thirty-five miles per gallon at thirty cents a gallon. After driving for seventeen hours straight, I arrived at two A.M. and bedded down, barely sleeping, in anticipation of the adventure to come.
“Wide awake at six A.M., I wandered around until I found a door that said MANAGER. I knocked lightly several times without a response. Impatiently I knocked louder and more frequently until a sleepy-eyed, gruff individual asked, ‘What do you want?’ In my most enthusiastic and cheerful voice I said, ‘I’m here to go heli-skiing!’ He promptly told me to go away and shut the door. I headed back to the car for a breakfast of celery and carrot sticks. An hour later I saw activity in the building and approached the manager once again, proclaiming, ‘I’m here to go heli-skiing!’ Perturbed by my unbridled enthusiasm, he dismissed me again while finishing his breakfast.
“Meanwhile, a few people had gathered in the parking lot. It began pouring down rain. The manager finally came out. ‘We are not skiing today,’ he said. ‘It’s raining.’ ‘You’re kidding me,’ I replied. ‘I drove seventeen hours to get here.’ He went back inside and the group of would-be skiers started to pack their cars. At this point, I was determined to not drive all the way back to Portland without skiing, so I asked everyone if they would be willing to ski if I could convince the manager to take us. All of them were from Seattle and were not strangers to wet snow and agreed to my plan. I went back to the manager and said I had nine eager skiers. ‘The skiing is terrible, and you are crazy,’ he said. ‘We have the money,’ I replied. Finally, he acquiesced with the caveat that if we didn’t like it there would be no refunds.
“We flew out of Valemount over these incredibly pristine mountains. When we sat down, the snow was soggy but I didn’t care; at least it was untracked. The guide was giving safety instructions but I was not listening because I was mesmerized by the vast expanse of untracked snow. Following the guide’s instructions, the group started their descent. I spied a small cliff to the right, hiked over and hucked myself off. Much to my chagrin, the guide caught my antics and royally chewed me out for not following instructions. We made a couple more runs in the rain, whooping and hollering while the guide was wondering, Who are these crazy people?
“I came back a month later with a group of friends and met Hans Gmoser, who’d gotten wind of my rainy-day adventure. He asked how I knew all these people, and would I like to work for him. I told him I had a job and declined. A few weeks later I returned with another group. At the end of a season I received a small check from Hans. I called and asked what gives. He told me that the check is my commission for bringing people to Canadian Mountain Holidays. At first I told him to take it back and put it toward more skiing. He told me to keep the check and keep on doing what I was doing. I told Hans that if I was going to represent CMH, I needed to get into the lodges to meet the managers and see how the operation works. He told me that he couldn’t guarantee skiing. I told him I didn’t need to ski and that it was essential that I make the rounds. That apparently sealed the deal, no paperwork, no contract, just a handshake and a declaration that as long as I was having fun I would stay on. It’s been thirty-eight years and I am still here.”
The Bugaboos—and Bugaboo Lodge—hold an iconic place in the world of backcountry and heli-skiing. After all, it was here that Hans Gmoser pioneered the notion of bypassing the folderol of a lift and using a whirlybird instead to take skiers (and much later, boarders) to places that no lift could ever go. An Austrian immigrant, Gmoser got his start guiding climbers and skiers in the wilderness surrounding Mount Assiniboine, just west of Banff National Park, under the auspices of Canadian Mountain Holidays. The heli-ski notion came to fruition in 1965; by 1968, his first mountain lodge in the Bugaboos had been established. Today, CMH operates eleven lodges in the mountains of eastern British Columbia.
It’s no surprise that the Bugaboos, located in the Columbia Mountains of B.C. and the heart of the Purcells, got Hans Gmoser’s attention. First, the Bugaboos are extremely isolated, promising plenty of solitude; over five hundred square miles and two-hundred-plus runs are available to explore. Second, like the other ranges in the area, they see a tremendous amount of snow, an average of more than four hundred inches a year. Finally, there’s the terrain, highlighted by the majestic granite spires that define the area for anyone who’s visited … or dreamed of visiting. Topher Donahue described it beautifully in his book, Bugaboo Dreams: “In the surrounding mountains, the glaciers shaped the softer sedimentary rocks as well, but left more rugged faces as if the carving force of the glacier were in the hands of a drunk with a bulldozer. The tectonic intrusion that pushed the granite into the sky also lifted the surrounding area into a high plateau, creating deep valleys on all sides and ski runs that begin within snowball-throwing distance of the surreal rock walls and go for miles down rolling steep glaciers into uninhabited valleys.”
After almost fifty years, CMH has a well-established routine at Bugaboo Lodge. “The guides check the weather and snow conditions early in the morning, and determine what areas will be safest and provide the best snow,” Fred continued. “There are down days, but they’re extremely infrequent. Having so much experience in the area, the pilots and guides understand the microclimates here and can usually find someplace where conditions will be right. [If you don’t get in the guaranteed amount of vertical footage—say, a hundred thousand vertical feet for a seven-day excursion—you’ll receive a refund of $120 for each 3,280 feet (1,000 meters) you missed.] In the early winter, you’ll generally get in four to six runs before lunch. The helicopter may have to refuel at this point. Groups—usually one guide and eleven skiers—will eat outside; if anyone is tired, they can return to the lodge. When I started doing trips, lunch was a bologna sandwich and an orange. Now it includes hot soup, hot tea, an exotic sandwich, tins of sardines, smoked oysters, fruit, and a variety of homemade cookies prepared by our in-house baker. In the afternoon, you’ll get in another four to six runs. In the spring, with longer days, fifteen to twenty runs a day is the norm.”
Over the years, Fred has logged close to eight million vertical feet in the Bugaboos and other CMH properties. In 2010, at the age of seventy-three, he was diagnosed with ALS (Lou Gehrig’s disease) and confined to a wheelchair. That has not taken “The Fredinator” off the slopes. On March 24, 2012, he made the first sit-ski descent in the Bugaboos.
FRED NOBLE has been skiing since the age of sixteen, and was Canadian Mountain Holidays’ first North American representative. He’s worked with the company for thirty-eight years. Fred’s travels have taken him to eighty-five countries and countless ski mountains. Though “The Fredinator” has contracted ALS, he remains active, raising money to fund ALS research through bike rides (with an arm-powered bike) and a ski event at Mount Hood called Ski to Defeat ALS. Learn more about Fred’s achievements at www.frednobleadventure.com.
If You Go
Getting There: Guests fly into Calgary, Alberta, which is served by most major carriers. From here, a bus will take you to the helipad, where a waiting copter will spirit you to the lodge.
Season: Canadian Mountain Holidays’ Bugaboo Lodge operates from December 20 through May 4.
Lift Tickets: Weeklong packages at Canadian Mountain Holidays’ Bugaboo Lodge (403-762-7100; www.canadianmountainholidays.com) range from $6,935 to $11,525 (CAD). Skis tailored for the Bugaboos’ snow are provided.
Level of Difficulty: Visitors should ski/board at an intermediate level, at least, and preferably have deep-powder experience … though CMH’s guides can help you get up to speed fairly quickly.
