LUXURY IN A SECRET LOCATION: BASE CAMP TENTS

The Purcell Mountains run roughly 480 km, from Kinbasket Lake in the north down to the U.S. state of Montana in the south. Deep in the heart of that ancient mountain range, Colin Puskas and his ski partner Rob Heule found their perfect camp in a valley that’s rarely visited and even more rarely skied.

For the past decade, Puskas has dedicated large chunks of every winter to exploring the mountains of Western Canada. “The exploration is what it’s all about for me,” he explains. The ex-pro skier’s boyish face is betrayed by specks of grey in his black beard, but his mischievous smirk is still youthful when you ask him where he’s been skiing.

“It’s a secret,” he says.

The Purcells have 467 named peaks, and it took Puskas years to find his favourites. After he exhausted the novelty of the Columbia Valley Hut Society offerings, his gaze turned deeper into the wild range. One day, while touring far from any road or hut, he spied his little Shangri-La: It was further west than most people venture to explore, and it was untouched by skiers and snowmobilers.

He could see tree runs and pillow lines through the old-growth forest. Higher up, an array of alpine descents spread out over every aspect. And glaciers capped it all with enticing routes through crevasses.

“It was like finding our own Rogers Pass and having it completely to ourselves,” Puskas says. “But it was way too far to enjoy in a day trip. So we started scheming ways to create our own hut in the middle of it to ski out of.”

Puskas invested in a canvas-wall tent shaped like a teepee, 3.5 m in diameter. The tent has a hole designed for a chimney stack to run a small, lightweight wood-burning stove, allowing him to melt snow, dry wet ski gear and stay cozy and warm.

They look for deadfall near camp, then use the chainsaw, axe and hatchet they carry in to buck up and split it into firewood. They can cook on the wood burner if they need to, but to make life easier they haul a two-burner camp stove and kitchen supplies, as well. On top of that, they bring chairs and a wash basin along with the usual basics.

How on earth do they get all that gear into the far, high corners of the Purcells? Not on their backs—behind their snowmobiles. Puskas and Heule pull fishing toboggans full of the gear, food and beer they need for a week or more away from the world.

They sleep in bivy sacks in a second, floorless tarp-tent erected next to the big canvas one. It’s pretty plush backcountry living, but it’s not easy to assemble. It took them what Puskas calls “a full, full day,” to get there and get set up. They had to drive all the way around to the west side of the Purcells to access a logging road to start. Next, they loaded snowmobiles and their trailers full of gear. Then they started building the sled road by intermittently dropping a toboggan and snowmobiling up steep slopes to build a track, then looping back to tow the gear up. Three hours later they were at camp.

Their elaborate camp takes two to three hours to set up, then it’s time to chop wood and start cooking a late dinner. But after all that work, when they wake up in the morning, they’re smack in the middle of more great skiing than their legs could ski tour during their 10-day stay.

Puskas estimates that the entire camp, including kitchen kit, tents and stoves, cost them about $3,000. Which is less than two people would spend to ski at most commercial touring lodges in BC.

“Looking at the overall value, it’s cost-effective, and you can keep building on it every year and take it to new places whenever you want,” he says.

He adds that it was worth every penny. “It was so quiet out there. And humbling. The peaks are big and you’re way out there alone.”

And when the friends end a long powder run from glacier down to tree line, gliding to their well-equipped camp, they can crack a beer, throw a log on the fire and settle in for a peaceful night under stars, comfortably sheltered.