FALL2016
MLBLUE
95
Nearly every employee I assaultwithmy inane
questioningover the comingdays echoes this same
theme: it's aplace soperfect, it's impossible to leave.
We chugup themountainside, following a route
tracedbywhat look like blue ribbon trout streams
snaking through an armyof icing-sugared, old-
growth cedar.Marce (as he tellsmemost people
call him) goes intodetail about themintynew,
nearly silent cats the lodge has just acquired,
pointingout all the frills and comfort features.
I nod in appreciation, like Iwouldknow the
difference.
Though IslandLakeLodge sits only a few
kilometres from the charming, formermining
boomtownof Fernie, BritishColumbia, and
only a fewhours fromCalgary, Alberta, its home
in theCedarValleyhas distinct environmental
characteristics—uniquely conducive to abnormally
large amounts of snowfall, evenby the high
standards of theRockies.
The valley is blessedby amicroclimate createdby
east-west andnorth-south valleys intersecting to
funnel precipitation across amyriadof aspects.The
result is a relentless dumpingof highquality snow
on an endless plethora of features.
Marce pulls over and coaxesme to get out and
take a look at themoonlit valley. Imakemy first
ofwhatwouldbecomemany exits from the cat,
gingerly steppingonto the tread, playing the audio
reel fromNeil Armstrong's lunar landing inmy
head.With zero forethought I take one small step
into thighdeep snow that buries the lower half of
mybody in a swift gulp.
"Watch your step," he says.
"Yep, got it, all good.” I'm already embarrassing
myself.
"We get a lot of snowuphere," he adds.
"No shit," Imumble, comically fumbling to
resurface.
The cat pulls into the station, I saymy farewells to
Marce as he leaves to ferryour gear to the cabin,
and then I take aminute to survey the triadof
rough-hewn log cabins glowingwarmly in the crisp
night air.
Touching the centuries-old timber, I feel an
overwhelming rushof nostalgia. Like I'mpart of
somethingbigger thanwhat canbe felt and seenon
the surface.
"Hi,Mr. Peech.Howwas your drive from the
coast?" the pleasantwomanbehind the counter
greetsme, clearlyhavingdone her homework.
A large, extended family gaggles in behindme.
The lodge's topdog greets them all by name, like
old friends.
"We've been comingback every year for I don't
knowhow long," the patriarch says tome after
Imake some face-in-palm comment about a bar
where everybodyknows your name.
I quicklydo themath and come to a hasty
conclusion:
fat cats—I knew I'dbe surroundedby
fat cats this week
. But as I shakemyhand through
a line of introductions, I discover this troupe is just
likeme: seemingly average folk from averagewalks
of life andmodest incomes. A true testament to the
addictive allure of IslandLake, these people save
and sacrifice throughout the entire year for three
days of incredible skiing. It isn't until I takemy
first turns the followingday that thismakes any
sense at all tome.
If it's not the terrainor snowquality that brings
guests back year after year, it's thewhole bespoke
experience (themasseuse actuallyknewmy left leg
neededmorework thanmy right because ofmy
riding stance, and that I fly fish. "Youneed to come
back in the fall," she says. "It's likenothing you've
ever experienced.").
Yes, IslandLake is luxe.That's its brand. But no,
it's not stuffy. It has that jene sais quoi thatmakes
one feel comfortable, soothed and relaxed—at
home, like the ultimateB&B. For the brief few
days I spendhere, I never once feel like I'mout of
my league.
Finally taking a seat by the giant stone fireplace
after a long journey, I tilt a pint towards the
snapping embers,my anxieties nowdistant
memories as I'movercomewith a sense of awe.
I imagineTerjeHaakonsen (still wearinghis
goggles in the lodge after a day in the field) and
CraigKelly (recently leaving the contest circuit to
find solace in these verymountains) exchanging
fireside tales of first descents. I look around the
room andpicture Scot Schmidt andEricPehota
discussing the day's filming sessionover a game of
pool, tippingbackbeers andnachos, encapsulating
everything après shouldbe.
I begin towonder if the authenticity and
unpretentious vibe of this captivatingplace has
anything todowith its storiedhistory.
WILLIRUINTHE
EXPERIENCEOFOTHER
GUESTSBYGETTING
STUCKINAGULLY,NECK
DEEPANDFLAILINGTO
EXCAVATEMYSELF?
(LEFTTORIGHT)
Cat at sunrise, ready for theday. Playingpool in thehistoric Bear Lodge. If thesewalls could talk… MIKEMCPHEE. Industry heavyweights turned shareholders. From left to right:MarkGallup,
CraigKelly, Scot Schmidt, JakeBlattner and Jason Ford. COURTESYMARKGALLUP
