‘THE GRASS IS GREENER IN THE MEADOW’

WORDS: COEN BENNIE-FAULL

PHOTOS: COOPER JAMES STANKOVICH

A SEAT ON THE PLANE DOESN’T GUARANTEE THE EXPERIENCE OF THE DESTINATION.

As humans, we are the drivers of our own destiny; luck, timing and the connections you hold play a role in the outcomes of our lives, but ultimately, we are the pavers of our path. In the mountains however, our own personal realm of control is trumped by the complexities of the environment and the collective capabilities of your companions.

Belittled by the enormity of the surroundings, personal interests become dwarfed by mutual objectives and our voice, muffled against the hum of communal anxieties. In a world where we fight for personal significance and control of our destiny, the mountains have a way of humbling our intentions.

In the midst of one of the driest starts to a winter Interior British Columbia has ever seen and in search of the quintessential Canadian winter experience, January in Revelstoke left a lot of unanswered questions this year. We’d come for the steep and deep for which this place is synonymous, but when we arrived we were left scratching our heads. Driven by the purpose of creating a ski documentary, my brother and I were left waiting on a Hail Mary to turn our season around.

Easing the pain of yet another let down pow day by indulging in one of Revelstoke Mountain Resorts’ legendary Outpost burgers, Aussie transplant Murray Elliot’s phone pinged, sparking a sly smile across the table. The cold air of the interior mountains means winter is always out there for those up for the search, and the extensive hut system that the ACC (Alpine Club of Canada) has on offer was the last stone unturned. As luck would have it, a group had cancelled last minute at one of the most sought-after huts in the area and

Murray’s phone received the answer to our prayers.

Usually reserved six months earlier via a lottery system and with a booking fee approaching a house deposit, the Bill Putnam/ Fairy Meadow hut is located deep in the Selkirk Range north of Rogers Pass, and boasts a plethora of glowing reviews across the internet. With only three-days to plan, pack and prepare, we threw the offer out to anyone within ears reach we thought would be up for the challenge. We assembled a motley crew of friends of friends and booked ourselves in, knowing little to nothing about what we were in for.

We arrived by heli on a brutally cold -30o morning and had a small glimpse of the terrain from above and a brief snow report from the departing group as we loaded and unloaded gear beneath the turbulence of the helicopter blade. As the last load lifted and disappeared down the valley we were left with the sudden realisation we were entirely on our own, but with a giant backyard of possibility. Despite the cold temps, we set off a short reconnaissance tour to find the sun and our bearings, but the glowing enthusiasm of the group was quickly replaced by cries about cold toes and we retreated to the warmth of the hut, tail between our legs. This wasn’t going to be a walk in the park.

We were one of three groups who’d jumped on the last-minute opening at the hut and over a few easing whiskeys by the fire it became ever apparent that the short window of planning meant we were wildly under-prepared.

With little knowledge of the area, no reception and negligible beta, we were left to our own devices to poke over the edge into uncharted territory. Self-reliant, with no safety net for mistakes, it became obvious we’d need to face our fears and work as a team if we were to create the experience we were searching for. A seat on the plane doesn’t guarantee the experience of the destination.

Nightly top ups of 20cms of new snow meant previous groups’ skin tracks were all but erased, making route-finding hard going. Joining forces with new found friends we’d made in the hut, we searched for new viewpoints daily and planned routes using a combination of phone videos from the heli ride in and FATMAP’s of the area we’d saved. Slowly we pieced the puzzle together, feeling out our surroundings and unravelling the skiing mecca beneath our feet.

Individually we were all seeking adventure and a chance to disconnect but an amazing thing happened as we released our attachments to external lifelines. The rational mind stepped aside as we learned to tune into and trust our instincts. As we became more disconnected from the outside world stronger connections between us and a collective experience replaced individual pursuits. What began as an assortment of experiences and knowledge transformed into a cohesive group, ready to throw caution to the wind and poke our heads into the unknown.

Opportunity favours the brave and as confidence in our group decision-making grew across the week, our sense of adventure did too. Each day we tipped further into the abundance of terrain we had at our fingertips, gaining a new perspective. The hesitance we felt at the beginning of the week melted away as we grew more attuned to our surroundings.

Built in 1965, Bill Putnam’s glorious meadows hut has provided shelter to so many before us and will see many more after. Although the paths we travelled were well worn, the lack of a guide book left us with a sense of pioneering exploration at every corner.

We shared a deep connection to place and each other as we leap-frogged ridges lined with endless pillows and possibilities. As the snow tumbled down silently each night we enjoyed the luxuries of a fully-stocked kitchen and the wood stove sauna, sharing tales of adventures over a cold one. Every morning felt like Christmas as we awoke to a fresh blanket of snow, setting off to see what was around the next corner.

Comfort zones were stretched, leading us to lean into the teachings of the mountains. We found our own path – how travelled the path was became irrelevant as what we were discovering was inside of us, the meadow was just the classroom. We finished our seven days in paradise with a new-found sense of self-assurance that each of us were on the right path if only we gave into the experience and followed our nose. We learned that each and every one of us has everything we need to reach new heights but the opportunity to do so will fly you by if you’re not willing to step up to the challenge. What ensued was one of the greatest weeks our lives, a lesson in self-discovery and a reminder that a sense of adventure has a way of awakening the child within us all.