Just Another Day at Shames Mountain

J Dogg — Tue, 30 Mar 2004 00:00:00 -0500

Rating

They say you learn something new every day. Like, did you know there's almost 30 bunny rabbits on a can of Pilsner beer? Didn't think you would... unless you're from Terrace. In fact, you probably don't even know where Terrace is, unless you knew about the bunny rabbits. Tucked away in northern British Columbia between Prince Rupert and Kitimat, Terrace is the closest city to one of Canada's best-kept secrets, and I'm not talking about those rabbits. I'm talking about powder. Lots of it. The kind you dream about every night in between glimpses of Jessica Simpson and 'the dream about you ruling the universe'. But then you wake up and realize that Jessica Simpson doesn't have a pool of jello next door, Bush already owns the universe, and you don't have enough money to go heliskiing in Alaska. But if you're lucky, you'll wake up and go skiing at Shames Mountain, British Columbia.

For less than half the price of a good day heliskiing, you can score a scenic 2-hour flight from Vancouver to Terrace/Kitimat, 3 nights accommodation, 3 days lift passes for Shames Mountain, and lots of snow. Shames gets an average of 40 feet of snow annually, making it one of the deepest and most dependable snowpacks in North America. Not to mention, the first year they opened (1990) they received 72 feet of snow... almost 3 times Whistler/Blackcomb's average annual snowfall.

Hmmm, sounded pretty sweet to us, so we thought we'd check it out. We cruised down to Vancouver on a Tuesday afternoon and hopped on a quick HAWKAIR flight that would have us in Terrace in less than 2 hours. While all the frequent-flyers were grabbing a 2-hour power-nap, we had our eyes plastered to the windows, scoping the inlets on our left and the Coast Mountains on our right. The ski daydreams were kicking in again, and Jessica and Bush were losing importance quickly. Meanwhile one of our site contributors Les Manley had heard that we were going to Shames, and he immediately hit the road in his '87 Toyota van to race us to Terrace.

We were told Shames was having an unusually dry season, yet when we arrived in Terrace it was just starting to snow. So far so good. We headed to the Best Western Terrace Inn to catch some zzzz's and started dreaming about the days ahead.

We drove up to Shames Mountain in the morning, and were stoked on the place before we even left the car. It was late in the morning, 10 cm's of fresh had fallen the night before, and there were only 9 cars in the parking lot. We headed in to grab lift tickets, and the ticket lady knew I was "the guy from the web magazine in Whistler" before I had started a sentence. At this point the resort felt so small it was starting to get creepy. 'Todo, we're not in Kansas anymore'.

With only a 2-man chairlift and a T-Bar, Shames is far from the ranks of glitzy gondola-packed resorts like Whistler, but it's a welcome change. It was a powder day and we had the place to ourselves to explore and enjoy. With our guides Darryl Person and Grant Wotten we spent the first day mostly ripping around the lift-accessible runs to see what goods the hill had to offer. Laps on 'Deliverance' and the local favourite 'The V' proved that Shames has some sweet pitches and terrain features to play with right off the chair.

But Shames earned its cult-classic status among BC rippers not only for it's inbounds skiing, but for the easily accessed backcountry areas that hold the real goods. This much is obvious when you look at people's skis as they pass and realize every second person has touring bindings. So with that in mind we spent the afternoon and next day sessioning the closest of the backcountry stashes that Shames has to offer. Darryl was keen and willing to share his local knowledge with us, and every skier we ran into was super helpful and keen to share ideas on where the best snow was hiding on each run. Phasar trees yielded some sweet terrain, while all the chutes, cornices, and mellow turns in North Bowl had by far the best powder stashes. When we mentioned that everyone we'd met so far was smiling and overly friendly, one local joked "That's 'cause we're all drunk and stoned". Fair enough.

With two sweet days under our belts, Shames had already exceeded our 'drought year' expectations, but world domination and Jessica Simpson still seemed like suitable lifestyle alternatives. Not for long. As it spewed rain in Terrace all night long, the powder dreams were coming back in full effect.

The next morning we swerved our way up the snowy Shames Mountain access road in Les' van, and once again found more cm's of snow in the parking lot than cars. A lot more. Word was it had snowed 36 cm's at the base and up to 50 cm's in the powder stashes up top... and it was still dumping hard. Snow was accumulating so fast that by the top of the chairlift ride a midget could have gotten faceshots skiing down my jacket. Hmmm, anyways... what followed was one of the deepest resort skiing days we'll ever have in our lives, unless of course we move to Terrace.

We kicked the day off by dropping into 'Hangover' all at once, and the cloud of snow that was once four skiers blasted down the run. It was hard enough to see in front of us, let alone make out who was plowing through which plume of snow... on a slope that was an icy bump run only 2 days earlier. And with only a handful of locals to share the goods with, we scored several snow-choking laps on easy-access runs like Hangover, AOT trees, and Terminator before we even bothered to venture further.

Somewhere in the snowy haze of the day we bumped into local shredders 'Chuck the groomer' and Dean Wagner from Prince Rupert, who led us to some even deeper snow stashes for the afternoon. Laps on the Headwall, Burnt Trees and Deliverance were wet-your-pants deep, and we didn't even need to rush to get fresh tracks because there was nobody around to compete with. For us Whistler locals, it was like that dream you have in which 'your friend is sleeping with the owner of Blackcomb and then convinces them to close the resort and let only your 20 best friends ski on the mountain for the biggest pow day of the year'. You guys have that dream too don't you? It's a long one so there's no time for the world domination dreams on those nights.

And just as all good dreams come to an end, so had our trip. There was another 40-something cm's in the forecast, we had work the next day, and our plane was... wait a minute, another 40 cm's ?!? The locals started looking at us like they'd seen a ghost when we said we were leaving, and they started to wonder who the real drunk and stoned people must be. Next thing you know rumors were spreading that planes wouldn't fly in a storm like this, and whether it was true or not, it stalled us just long enough that we weren't going to make our flight anyways. "And that, ladies and gentlemen... was the TSN turning point". With our schedule abandoned and accommodation package ended, it was time to fully embrace our northern BC ski trip. The Prince Rupert boys figured it was time for some quality northern BC hospitality, and a blur of partying and fluffy white powder followed.

This much we remember...

It's who-knows-when in the morning and we're partying at a cabin on Lakelse Lake with a pack of people who've driven from Prince Rupert and Terrace to give'er for the weekend. It's easy to spot the skiers because we're the only ones who have to wake up in a couple hours, so we're all making our way through the partiers, Wildcat cans, and Fireball bottles in search of a bed or couch to rest on...

We're back on the hill, all our tracks from yesterday are gone and I'm skiing in the 90cm's of snow that have fallen since we arrived a few days earlier. Faceshot after faceshot. More like a face-shower really...

I'm standing on a flat patch of snow, and can easily submerge my entire 125cm long poles into the snow without touching the crust layer from before the storm. Hmmm, good times...

I kid you not, the Prince Rupert boys have a snorkel with them, and we were all jealous...

Next we're partying in some kinda of work shed/airplane hanger in the outskirts of Kitimat, BC. The crate-burning bonfire is raging outside, and a jacked-up pickup truck with it's doors open is providing the sound system for the whole party... We didn't go to sleep that long ago, yet we're standing at the airport waiting to catch our flight home. It dumped again last night but this time we really are leaving...

So let's get this straight. We hopped on an easy 2 hour plane ride for an innocent little 3 day weekend, found some of the deepest snow we'll ever find in our lives, skied with an awesome group of locals who happily showed us where all the goods were, and got invited by people we'd just met to stay at their lake cabin and party for the whole weekend. Maybe this is that dream I was talking about. But where's the jello?

Just another day at Shames for Dean Wagner

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Click Here for Photo Gallery (coming soon!)

DETAILS

For more information on Shames Mountain, visit www.shamesmountain.com.

To get there, don't waste your time driving 17 hours, hop on an easy 2-hour flight with Hawkair instead. Ask about their flight/ski-lift/accommodation packages.

Purchase Dean's ski flicks about Shames Mountain at www.waspfilms.8m.com.

SPECIAL THANKS

We'd like to thank Darryl Tucker at Hawkair for the hook-up and hospitality, Darryl Person & Grant Wotten for the guiding, Dean Wagner & 'Chuck the groomer' for the deep shreddin', the whole Lakelse posse for the unreal hospitality and entertainment, and to everyone at Shames who welcomed us strangers to their sweet-as-cherry-pie resort.

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Just Another Day at Shames Mountain