Somewhere deep within my mind the seeds of stoke slowly started to build. The specter of bottomless powder snow, long tree runs, and, best of all, having a machine pull my lazy ass to the top of a private playground in the legendary West Kootenay’s of British Columbia was irresistible. I began to salivate on my sweat-drenched pillow. My mind was nearly prepared to go but my body was a different story: I couldn’t even muster the energy to stumble ten feet to vacate, let alone drive 7 lonely hours to Nelson. Something had to be done. There was no way I was going to bail on a 'corporate' cat skiing trip because I had done bad things the night before. I was going to drive even if it killed me.

6:30am rolled around awfully quickly. The previous night’s drive was a blur of near collisions, lonely highways, closed gas stations, and late night ferries. My body still ached from the savage debauchery of New Years Eve, and then there was Brandon and Robin of Biglines.com, two of the most perpetually stoked people in the world, up in my face screaming about how “we were going to Valhalla Powdercats today” and that “It was going to be the sickest day ever”. I rolled over and pulled the sleeping bag over my face…

---

---

After the usual 'shit show' associated with those two characters the posse, which also included photographer Ryan Creary, was finally standing on top of a run known as “The Burn”. Lindsey, the owner of Valhalla Powdercats, was busy explaining the run we were about to ski, pointing to an assortment of steep peaks, alpine meadows and the high cols between them where cat roads would be built over the course of the season and discussing future plans. We were about to find out the fun way that the tenure, which is located about 30 minutes west of Nelson in the legendary Valhalla Mountains, is blessed with some of the deepest, lightest and most consistent snowfall in Canada.

Face shots billowed overhead as we skied what could be called one of the best tree runs in a region known for its steep and deep tree skiing. The trees, which were no more than the charred and peeled shells of a past forest, were the remnants of a small fire which had burned in the valley many moons ago. Between the cycles of sinking, choking and bouncing the run evoked an image of an entire forest composed of the kin of the White Tree of Gondor.

---

---

With the clouds burning off overhead Lindsey took us to a completely different alpine zone. “A traverse right will take you to gullies, trees and pow, and a hike up will take you to the ridge and couloirs that are for the taking”

The long couloirs descending from the ridge were awful temptresses, but with fading light and no idea of the timeline to reach the couloirs we opted for the steep 'jib-park-esque' features that beckoned us after the long traverse. Once again the snow and terrain were incredible. In one run we skied everything from mellow alpine pow to natural halfpipes and cliffs. Even with the small amount of terrain we sampled it was easy to see why Valhalla Powdercats caters to advanced clientele.

Once again the specter of a long and tired drive loomed over my head. This time, my body was not protesting due to alcohol induced pain, but from the satisfaction of having one of the best days of the season.

Check out a short clip of the day in Window Media Player