This “sickness� of sorts can be contagious. The symptoms of this bug are as many: with increased heart rates, blood pressures pumping to the tune of massive endorphin releases and adrenaline circulating into the corps’ extremities giving heightened senses of awareness as if drugged up on some sort of performance enhancing substance. Experiencing any of these sensations while on snow it could be one of the many indescribable feelings of a powder day. But this addiction is a synergy of senses awakened into one burst of adrenaline – it comes with the by-product euphoria that leaves one feeling more alive and consumed in every passing yet timeless moment.

To experience any of these sensations while on snow could mean any of the indescribable feelings of a powder day. The synergy of senses awakened are all rolled into one emotional burst of adrenaline giving the by-product euphoria that leaves one feeling more alive and consumed in every passing yet timeless moment.

For any snowrider who can appreciate the fact that a snorkel-deep powder day between the ropes is rarer than, wellâ€|a deep powder day, there is a way to guarantee yourself genuine powder snow without the physical labour of hiking to sacred higher ground or paying dearly to make turns in the fresh white. As I learned, cat skiing fits this description perfectly. In case you've been trapped in a snowdrift, "cat skiing" has nothing to do with felines. It is a trail groomer mounted with a quasi motor-coach compartment to haul skiers on its back and mounted on tank-resembling treads that are robust enough to withstand trekking through backcountry debris to get to the deep virgin powder.

In being the catskiing virgin that I was, and given my limited time skiing powder on previous trips along with my Dad and American friend (of 61 and 56 years respectively) constantly in denial of “real powder� days due to a never-ceasing shutout streak– this experience laid these doubts to rest once and for all.

Our return on investment was a day full of memories - powder indulgence, laughter, yodelling and fellowship among strangers and many photo shoots to capture this day. It turned into a sacred epiphany of the Ullr faith for our American friend. A turn of events that we all wished would be as eternal as the bible. Which makes one wonder, does it get any more blissful?

My first cat skiing experience came last February with Fernie Wilderness Catskiing (FWC) - a gem in the Canadian Rockies that is now operating in its 7 year. Located a 20 minute commute from Fernie alpine resort (approximately the time it’ll take you to get to Fernie resort’s high alpine). The terrain is in a remote area, an approximate 45 minute commute from their base lodge, and expansive. As advertised online “predominately gladded tree skiing, with occasional tree bands leading into open chutes� where 12,000 vertical feet skied on a given day is the norm. As with most adrenaline-seeking activities that involve moderate levels of risk, the skiable terrain on any particular day varies, depending on such factors as current weather conditions, group ability (intermediate or higher), and snow pack safety.

Our guides, namely Chris and Matt, took us to the wild and untamed sides of the valley where all the “goods� were stashed. Aptly named, FWC offers a real, rugged cowboy-ish style powder skiing experience where safety and fun come first. Myself and 11 other skiers, most of whom were Americans from Connecticut and upstate New York, experienced a day of high-impact powder turns and never saw the same lines twice.

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The following chronicles our adventure that day and gives tips on stuff to keep in mind if you partake in this out of bounds experience.

6:00AM: My alarm sounds setting off my thoughts of consuming deep powder. The big day had finally arrived. At first glance through my condo’s window and traces of sleep in my eye I could see slightly overcast skies yet clear view of the low-lying mountains. There was no sign of new snow from the night before and The Weather Network called for a dump but alas for tomorrow. I would just have to wait and see what the day had in store.

6:45 - After fueling-up on high fiber octane, protein and vitamin C to the tune of Warren Miller’s latest epic we lugged our sleepy heads and gear out the door and into the Caravan before 7. The cat operators were expecting us at their shop in the village prior to 8.

7:50 - The snow down in the village felt wet and sticky enough to roll into a snowman. I could hardly imagine that it would be of the champagne variety up above given the low altitude of the Canadian Rockies. Brian, the staff at the shop, put my worries to rest. He promised it would be much more favourable in terms of less moisture content up at higher elevations so I gave him any benefits of my doubts.

8:00 - Arrival at base camp. Check-in time to FWC boot camp. Preparation activities consisted of an hour of waver form paperwork and gearing up with “Fat Boy� skis. Average age of the crowd looked to be 40 and predominantly guys, of which I was the youngest.

8:45 - As we were in the process of signing our waivers, I overheard some chuckling among our American counterparts in our group. Turns out there was a lawyer among us who wasn’t fond of “signing his life away� to the waiver terms and conditions and was determined to find a way to hold the cat skiing company personally liable for any disasters that might befall him. That became his sole mission for that day. At this point I made a mental note to myself: Steer clear of any chances of colliding with this dude! As it turned out this lawyer would challenge the waiver more than the terrain itself.

Our group was divided in half – 12 people were put in each cat. Next order of business was to get the fat boys set up and mounted on the cat.

The engines were stoked and ditto for its riders. It was finally boarding time. Giddy up!


9:10 – On the 45 minute commute to the higher ground, we travelled through the mountainous wilderness to what appeared to be the final frontier of the Canadian Rockies. I looked down to where we started, which felt like I was looking into a bottomless canyon. The switch backs up these mountains were long and winding, giving me a nauseating feeling that we were on the edge of the planet. Talk about a sight for brown boxer shorts! I ceased my downward looking, focusing onward and upwards on what was to come. I wondered how did they ever find this place?

Where the hills have no names



9:30 –Arrival to higher ground, base camp 2. Our friendly guides and cat driver, Trevor, helped us to unload our gear. We engaged in a crash course for avalanche transceiver safety and a search and rescue/environmental awareness powwow which I found to be quite a nice supplement to my ski patrol course taken a year earlier. Our transceivers were turned on, ready on “send� mode around our necks. We were reassured by our guides that they had never had a burial in an avalanche or fatality in their history as a cat skiing operation and they were rightfully adamant that their number one priority was to keep this streak in tact. Chris, our guide, educated our crew by giving many of us our first exposure to this lifesaving device as a safety measure in case the unforeseen became a reality.

The summit


From there on it would be all about the purest form of joy riding on good ol’ nature’s mountainous playground in search of the beloved powder, and for once knowing that we wouldn’t risk losing our lift passes for doing so. This meant we didn’t have to cover each other’s backs from poaching lines in front of the infamous “fun police� (ski patrol) as they are sometimes called by those who are get nabbed.

9:45 – We’re taken up to the higher alpine. It was the real deal from this point forward. As we got up into sight of the terrain we would be skiing on this day, my adrenaline took over. The final stretch of getting to the top seemed like an eternity. It was nostalgic of the boy inside of me from back in my grade school days when I would watch the class clock tick slowly in pent-up anticipation of letting loose for recess “playtime�.

10:00 - The first climb to the summit was behind us. The moment of truth had finally arrived. Once everyone got buckled in, we followed our fearless leaders into the “Paradise� bowl because of the low lying clouds that we had to contend with early on. To keep us all together and give a frame of reference of their whereabouts in the glades our guides periodically shouted “Day-o!�. We all quickly adopted this tried and tested method.

My first observation was that the powder was indeed fluffy, pristine and forgiving. You could feel everyone was anxious to consume the most pow their bodies could muster in a day. The attitude was still every rider for themselves. But that was soon to be forgotten with the first yard sale that turned into a fall fest contest of who could lose the most pieces of equipment in one fall and how many pieces of equipment a “buddy� could collect for you while in pursuit.

10:30 - My buddy, who goes by the nickname “Chip� and is somewhere in his late 60’s, is a fluid “old school� type skier that inadvertently takes the group down memory run by his old time style of fusing everything together below the waist while gleefully carving a path through the evergreens. “Yo f%#&ing HO!� is his joyous cry behind me as he makes a descent. I nearly yard sale from laughter. I would use this beacon to keep tabs on him for the rest of the day.

Sometime mid-morning: Our sole female counterpart announced to her friends that she really needed to “GO!�. A dilemma that I was glad wasn’t mine. With no outhouses in the alpine, her options of either to hold or release, were about as equally appealing in my mind given the outcomes she might have faced.

11:00 - Under a blue bird sky the sun was out in all its glory, 3 - 1500+ ft. descents of pure powder was under out skis before the day was half done. Everyone had a yodeling moment at some point during the day losing their inhibitions with each passing run and hence the disappearance of this “no friends...� nonsense. The powder brought out the inner kid in us all and as we became increasingly neglectful of the potential hazards and dangers of the untamed wilderness. Our guides insisted on cooperation with the threat of cutting down our vertical significantly. We sobered up somewhat to encourage our guides to keep on trekking.

The snow was deep and ski-licious – nice supplement to breakfast


12:30PM - As we were heading back up from another run (lost count of how many we’d made at this point) the staff dished out our sandwiches and fruit. Sweetness! The lawyer in our cat was still pondering how he could defy the waiver form we had signed several hours earlier. My Dad asked him once while riding up in the cat why was so quiet. "Is it because you don't have anybody to sue?" he commented. "The trip isn't over yet!" he proclaimed. But all things considered he was fairly satisfied with the day so far.

2:00: - Our driver put his grooming skills to work building us a monstrous kicker off the cat track. Our guides described the landing to the group as being steep and deep and to watch for an “overhanging� tree some 30 feet out and 20 feet down – whatever that meant. Matt veered into the unknown taking the plunge and then yard sale-d. I questioned what I was getting myself into and with what speed to make the approach. Practically everyone hit it dead on but yelped when the drop was uncovered in front of them as they made the leap of faith. Mine was a tad off. It was definitely a near-disastrous experience averted with some quick tweaking in mid air to dodge that tree. I decided that I’d had enough of frightening my conscience for one day and would therefore stay grounded for the balance in hopes of living to ski another day.

3:30: - We were all getting sloppy, taking some pretty hard falls resulting in more yard sales than before. The powder was crusting (hardening) in some places and I was aptly applying the brakes in many places to resist acquiring break-neck speeds. I caught an edge and still scared myself. Another disaster avertedâ€|

4:00: - “Last run� our guide informed us all in a regretting tone of voice. Two words I had never hoped to hear on this day given that it was arguably the single best ski day ever in my books. We made our way down at a relaxed pace to the cat at base camp 2 one last time. Before doing so I thought to myself “approach the virgin white carefully�

5:00 - Arrival back to base camp – some 12+ runs and 15,000 vertical feet logged. We were all accounted for mostly unscathed, and welcomed back to the hut with broccoli soup on the burner, freshly baked bread and a roaring fire which were all conducive to talking about the day that was; a memorable way to celebrate an unforgettable day with the cat and co.

Oh, and as for that "no friends on a powder day" shenanigans, I beg to differ. Let’s just say we all forgot about it long before we lost count of yard sales.

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Fernie Wilderness Catskiing’s website

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