Bc roadtrip

TOBEOUTERWEAR MAGAZINE WINTER 2008

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T O B E O U T E RW E A R . C O M

THE Roadtrip EXPLORing the amazing British Columbia

TRAVEL

ROAD TRIP BC

FROM REVELSTOKE TO WHISTLER

BY TOM AS BERN TSSO N

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PHOT OS HANS WÄR DELL

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”THE ONLY THING THAT KEPT THE WHEEL IN PLACE

WAS A MIX OF GODS HAND AND GOOD OLD FASHIONED REDNECK LUCK”

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TRAVEL

The reasons for taking off on a road trip can be varied and many, but its basic nature is that you have a need to go elsewhere. Simple eh? For us, it was the weather that forced us out on the roads in our old Chevy truck.

They say poets write their best lyrics when they’re depressed and are in a bad mood. I don’t know why but I guess it has something to do with that an artist’s soul needs to suffer to be able to create. Well, if they’re right this should turn out to be the best damned article I’ve ever written!

When writing this, I sit at a café in downtown Whistler and watch while the rain pours down outside. It’s a cozy place, sure, pretty good coffee and lots of cute girls coming and going. But for Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo’s sake, I’m not in Whistler to socialize with latté sipping metrosexual guys and their teenage pre-pubescent girlfriends! I’m gonna strangle the next Shaun White wannabe that steps in through that door with his stupid bandanna! All I’m asking for is some freakin’ sunshine! I wanna actually see the mountains everybody is talking about! Don’t get me wrong, I really like Whistler and I know I just happened to catch her at a bad week. But still!

Anyway, I’ll tell you the story from the beginning.

My brother Mikael, our photographer Hans, and myself had parked our fat Swedish asses on a couch belonging to Rob Alford in Revelstoke for the past week and a half. Can’t complain too much about the accommodations since that couch sits in one of the nicest lodges in all of Revelstoke. The problem was that during the past week we hadn’t done much else than, well, sit on that couch. Besides well-spent evenings watching the strippers and drinking what the local savages persist to call beer, we also made a couple of weak attempts to shoot some pictures in the fog up at Boulder Mountain.

Patiently, we had been watching the weather forecast and waited for that bluebird day we so desperately needed. With only three weeks in BC to spend, it soon gets frustrating to watch the weather guy when he explains that the past 21 days of non-stop raining is some kind of all time record for this time of the year.

We kept our bags packed by the door and outside the house was our old Chevy truck with the sleds loaded and ready to go. Suddenly things happened fast. In the area around Whistler, lots of powder was promised the next day. With less than eight hours to drive it was a no-brainer to decide what to do. We headed out of town later the same night and set course for the Promised Land.

LATER THAT NIGHT We stopped for gas in a little town called Lillooet. The town is literary the last peace of civilization you’ll see for many hours. You would think that spending so much time sitting and practicing doing nothing on the sofa, would have at least made us good at that. But no. I think I lost the feeling in my legs about half way and this stop was well needed.

The old Chevy pick-ups may have many fine qualities but comfort is not one of them. Rob said that one of the wheels on the trailer acted a bit strange and suggested we should take a look at it. The clock had well passed bed time for most tire shop owners when we reached under the trailer and found out that the only thing that kept the wheel in place was a mix of Gods hand and good old fashioned redneck luck. The bolts

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TRAVEL

”WE WERE ALL EXCITED TO SEE WHAT THEY LOOKED LIKE

OUTSIDE THE GLOSSY PAGES OF NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC”

RIDER ROB ALFORD LOCATION WHISTLER CANADA PHOTO HANS WÄRDELL

hadn’t been tightened properly, causing the wheel to move around and create holes about twice the size of the nuts. Mikael and I woke up the clerk at a nearby motel and spent the night so we could get the trailer fixed in the morning. At 07.00 sharp we stood outside the tire shop waiting for the owner to wake up. Around nine o’clock a guy in blue overalls finally showed up. Well, yes, he was the owner, but he usually never did any work in the shop himself. We had to wait for one of the mechanics to show up. The rhetoric question of when he expected the blue collar workers to arrive was answered with a precise “– Sometimes not until 10 or 11.”

After resolving the tire fiasco, we spent a few days in the old mining town of Bralorne. When we got there the powder was somewhat epic and the sun glanced at us from a perfect sky. I would do anything to experience that again. The following days we caught some bad luck with the weather and nothing could top that first day.

When we rolled in to Whistler a few days later, believe it or not, SUNSHINE! We unloaded the sleds and headed up the trail without as much as a single thought about the fantastic log houses and the beautiful town site we passed on our way to the parking lot. The weather forecast promised sunshine for the next couple of days so you could say we were in a pretty good mood.

We spent most of the day breaking the trail to the top. When we finally got there it was late and we decided that we should save some of the powder for next day. Instead we went down a little bit and started building a kicker over a hill we found. We were in no hurry and figured that we might as well use this first day to set up everything for tomorrow. The kicker project soon got off track. When we were done it looked more like something that could launch an eighteen-wheeler in to orbit. With the in-run we packed, it was definitely capable of well over 200ft. By now it was almost dark and we decided to get up early the next morning and bring extra gas.

So, are you able to guess what the weather looked like when we got up the following morning?

With the rain pouring down outside we tried to reevaluate our options.

We soon realized we could just forget about the kicker we built.

Luckily we had made friends with Paul Ilic from Sledclub.com. He was more than happy to take us out to find some riding in the trees. And we did find some trees all right. Later that afternoon we were all tired from riding, digging and getting stuck when Paul told us about the giant cedar trees that grow in the area. We decided to go and check it out before we called it a day. As for myself, I’ve never seen those kind of trees before. We were all excited to see what they looked like outside the glossy pages of National Geographic. We were not disappointed. Those things are bigger than anything I’ve ever seen in my life.

The following days, mother nature did nothing to surprise us. As the days past, we woke up every morning to the cheerful sound of water drops tapping on the window. By the time we finished breakfast at the bar and got back in to the car, we were usually soaking wet from the rain.

So here I am in that café in Whistler. I have to admit that even if I sound grumpy about the weather this has been one incredible trip. I met some fantastic people along the journey. People have opened up their homes for us and treated us like their long lost friends. I feel very fortunate when I’m showed around their secret spots and taken to some of the best riding in the world. This means a lot to me and it is worth telling once more, you guys are always welcome in my home.

So this wasn’t such a bad trip after all. I experienced BC in a way even most residents of Canada ever will get a chance to do. All thanks to the friends we made during a couple of hectic weeks in one of the most amazing places known to man, British Columbia. ıı

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Prologue It’s been a long drive back from Whistler through the heavy snowfall and dark night.

It feels good to be back again. From the top of the hill I can see the streetlights of revelstoke beneath us. I hear they finally found the necessary billion dollar investors that will transform Mount MacKenzie and revelstoke from a slumbering small town to an Alps-scale ski resort. The world is changing and no one including me wants to be in the way of progress. Where I live, in the northern Swedish outback, there is a saying that you shouldn’t love your hometown to death. What they mean with it is simply that

you shouldn’t stop development just because you want things to be like they’ve always been. From top of that hill I can’t help myself from wondering though. What will happen to the genuine little mountain town I came to love so much? Will they still have time to give me a friendly smile every morning at the gas station? Will my friends stay and if they do, will they change too? Thoughts are running through my mind as I am passing under the railroad bridge with the revelstoke sign welcoming me to my second home.

LOCATION WHISTLER CANADA

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