Finding My Ski Legs at Steep Creek

When I arrived in Vancouver in September, I didn’t think that I would ski that much. The closest I had been to a ski slope in the last six years was one made of diamond shaped plastic bristles, 96m above sea level, in Kent, England. Every Wednesday after school I would lap variations of the same slalom course, usually it was raining, and I don’t think I really enjoyed it. I was quickly overtaken by those who spent more time on real snow and developed a profound ski-insecurity. However, my parents love to ski and on hearing that I had got a place at UBC declared that this was going to be my ski year.

Dutifully, I spent my savings on a Student Season Pass, snow pants with a shot elastic, and a long-term ski rental from Sports Junkies, and began trying to find my ski legs again. Ski-insecurity lingering but addicted to these days out on the mountain, I started talking to the wonderful people of the VOC, hearing the words touring, skinning, and powder for the first time!

My first overnight ski trip got off to a great start. Photo: Shaojie Huang.

My translators were very kind, making me feel safe to develop my skills and understanding, lending equipment, adjusting bindings, and running beginner-friendly trips. I am so grateful for these opportunities, which kickstarted me in this new sport. In comes Ana Ciocoiu, whose idea for a trip geared towards those who don’t feel like they fit into typical outdoor spaces really resonated with me. Encouraged in the clubroom by Katie Sattler, I signed up for Girls Gone Wild: Steep Creek.

So, come Friday morning I was packing for my seventh, eighth, and ninth day in the backcountry, fresh AST, and a ski package rented from the clubroom. The forecast was not looking great, and a MIN report detailing a hefty 2.5 avalanche from only two days before was passed around the group with much concern. In the view to manage expectations, Girls Gone Wild became Girls Gone Mild. Here, I felt that my ‘just happy to be here’ attitude, typical of exchange students, was protecting me from the group’s disappointment at not being able to safely ski the boldest lines. Though by the end of the weekend we reflected on just how happy we all were to be out in the mountains.

The view of Darkside Peak from the top of the Cabin Trees skin track. Photo: Julia Jancelewicz.

It was not without incident, however, starting with the second car group’s delayed departure from Vancouver. The first group, consisting of Julia Jancelewicz, Em Lion, and myself had enjoyed a leisurely, afternoon approach, sucking on caramel apple lollipops and arriving at Beekers cabin in time for a banana-bread based dinner. We were asleep by the time the second car group arrived at the trailhead, lead by Stefanija Rekasius, fresh from her hospital shift, and skinning up the FSR at a remarkable pace. I hear that high spirits were maintained until the final, narrow kilometre, lit by the equally slim beams of their headlamps. It was 1:00 am when they slipped into the hut with a commendable quiet.

Bright-eyed skiiers, Katie, Stefanija, Em, and Anna setting up at Beeker’s Cabin on Saturday morning. Photo: Julia Jancelewicz.

This was the first ski trip which I had been on where the objective was to lap as much as possible. So, lots to refine in the way of layering, delayering, hydrating, fueling, and transitioning. Switching my boots to ski mode is something I find myself forgetting without fail. On Saturday morning we headed up the skin track of Cabin Trees and hit the two south- and east-facing bumps at the top of the hill. There were views for miles, fierce cornices and heaps of avalanche debris lit up in the sun. The conditions were amazing where we were, and everyone put in some good turns.

Cute lines. Photo: Lydia Dunkin.

But of course, the good ones are not always the most memorable. Not when I tumbled down the lee-slope, a fraction steeper than our warm-up laps, only to right myself, declare “I’m all good”, brake, and tip headfirst into the powder. Ostrich-style. Julia and I later agreed that in that split second of snow immersion, it truly feels like you’re drowning. Amusing, but only once you have caught your breath. You’ll have to ask Stefanija for the GoPro footage.

Julia, Katie, Ana, and Lydia. Photo: Julia Jancelewicz.

Showing their superior stamina, Em and Stefanija headed for a higher objective. Check out what Stefanija had to say about the couloir that they skied! I particularly enjoyed hearing about their decision-making process, taking mental notes for the future.

Couloir Time

Written by Stefanija Rekasius

Still having a lot of energy and not wanting to lap the same sections again, Em and I started planning what we would ski. We saw another pair ski down a couloir without causing an avalanche and we decided to also ski Steep Creek Main Couloir. Knowing that the avalanche forecast was considerable in the alpine with a persistent slab on all faces and the previous week’s snow not bonding well primarily on West facing slopes, we decided on a more North-East facing couloir and tested the snowpack as we skinned up in addition to hand shear tests. We also discussed possible escape routes should we trigger an avalanche while we could still see the entire slope. Soon we got to the ridge, and discussed our best entry point. Both of us had overestimated the steepness of the couloir and were welcomed by very nice turns (with the most powder that I had ever skied…I grew up on the East Coast and 10cm of powder for me is insane). We only triggered a bit of fluff and greatly enjoyed the views and skiing given that the avalanche conditions haven’t been super favourable to skiing this season. We skied down to the lake, had a short snack break, and went out again with Lydia, and Katie for one more lap before dinner as the storm clouds were rolling in and skiing on Sunday kept looking less of a possibility.

Silhouettes at the kick turns. Photo: Julia Jancelewicz.

Late afternoon and the storm was coming in, weighing down the snow as we made our way up for a final run. Em led us down through the trees, casually sending tight turns and what I would describe as small cliffs. Tweaky nerves and tweaky knees, I slipped down behind, calling out for directions.

We had a lovely evening back at the cabin, talking about Julia’s dragon writing, making our way through much of Ana’s food, and learning how to dehydrate our own from Katie. Wet slashes of snow blurred the windows of the hut, and it was agreed that we would head back down to the cars first thing in the morning. Well, not quite first thing, as we were yet to test out whether Em’s Jiffy Pop would work on the stove.

After waking up the rest of the hut with the black smoke of burning popcorn, we made a hasty exit, skied down to the cars, and headed back to the city, swapping stories on the way. The culture of knowledge-sharing is strong in the VOC and it has enabled me to try this whole new side of skiing. It’s hard to believe that just months ago I was hesitating to even call myself a skier!  This trip helped me feel at home in an environment which had once felt out of reach, a credit to Ana’s leadership. We hope that it can be part of a larger trip series creating spaces for those who may not feel welcome or represented in the outdoor activities which they enjoy.