Neon lets skiers stand out

Skiing has a bright future. And not just because the world’s most popular winter sport has regained its long-standing edge over its upstart rival, snowboarding. A word of caution, though: break out the Vuarnet sunglasses. Why? Because neon is officially back in fashion. Those who cringe at photos taken of themselves in brighter-than-bright 1980s shades can take heart.

How many of us actually hung on to any of that electrically charged gear? In fairness, back in the day, skiers and snowboarders didn’t know any better. Neon, like shredding on a board, was the newest rage. You’d think that time would have taught an important lesson: if it glows, out it goes. Except this year that should read: glow big or go home.

What sparked the neon renaissance? Charles Bedard, designer with Whistler-based SMS Clothing, attributes the trend to the popularity of videos in which marquee skiers and snowboarders soar skyward to such exalted heights that they become increasingly hard to see. Brightly bedecked aerialists are more likely to stand out when framed against the magic-hour sunsets favoured by action-sport videographers. For example, check Matchstick Productions‘ latest effort, Claim, to see for yourself. SMS’s T. J. Schiller, garbed in blinding blue and yellow, steals the show in more ways than one.

SMS Clothing is the offshoot of two-time Olympian and Canadian Ski Hall of Famer John Smart’s freestyle-ski-camp business. Since 1992, the Lions Bay native has run a summer program on Blackcomb’s Horstmann Glacier, largely focused on young mogul and freeride skiers. Drawn by Smart’s dream to see freestyle, or freeride, skiing evolve to higher ground, coaches like Vernon-based Schiller and Olympic gold medallist Jean-Luc Brassard were attracted to Momentum Ski Camp. They’ve helped spawn the careers of future podium toppers such as Alberta’s Jennifer Heil, who won top honours in moguls competition at the 2006 Turin Winter Games. Just as importantly, Momentum camps were the crucible for what has become known as the new-school style. Pioneered by coach Mike Douglas aboard a pair of revolutionary twin-tip skis, over the past decade new-school has swept skiing out from snowboarding’s shadow and back into the realm of global cool.

Every revolution calls for a new wardrobe, whether it’s freeriding or skiing’s newest rising star, alpine touring. Smart and Bedard recognized the need to draw attention to freestyle’s new technical skills with eye-catching outfits. “You want to impress and be loud,” explained Bedard when reached by phone on his way to Vancouver. From his Whistler office, Smart agreed. “We’re far more cool fashion than, say, Arc’teryx,” he said in reference to the North Shore–based adventure-gear company, for which product performance trumps all other considerations. Whereas Bedard treats fabric as his canvas, Arc’teryx’s director of new technologies development, Mike Blenkarn, is far more caught up in biomechanics-like minimizing the impact of water vapour on outerwear in extreme winter conditions.

When reached at Arc’teryx’s North Vancouver headquarters, Blenkarn told the Georgia Straight: “If we solve vapour-permeability fundamentals to get our jackets to dry out more quickly at the back end of a snow cave, we can then transfer those improvements into apparel that works better for everyone, right up to guests at heli-ski lodges. This makes the guides at CMH [Canadian Mountain Holidays] happy, the guides at Rogers Pass and North Shore Rescue happy, and the 56 guys who do avalanche control on the Duffey Lake Road happy too.” The 49-year-old then pointed out that a decade of such research has made his company the dominant player in the jacket category today.

Not that Bedard doesn’t know a thing or two about product testing. The 28-year-old is just as crazy about getting out into the backcountry as Blenkarn. The difference is, like many of his youthful Sea to Sky cohorts, he not only carves on skis, he also does R & D atop a snowmobile. “Because you’re in the elements all day without the benefit of ducking into a lodge like a lot of our customers,” he said, “the backcountry influences design by testing our garments.” Both designers’ textile of choice is three-ply Gore-Tex. “We’re advancing towards perfection in fabric to operate like skin: waterproof and breathable,” Bedard said.

Over at Arc’teryx, Blenkarn, a self-admitted “fun hog”, said that when it comes to field-testing, he far prefers to stretch climbing skins over the bottom of his skis and self-propel his way up a 2,000-metre slope in the Cayoosh Range between Pemberton and Lillooet. If he has concern about the rise in popularity of alpine touring, it’s that parking is now at a premium along the Duffey Lake Road, where he estimates there are as many as 15 backcountry communal cabins. “My playground is getting congested,” he joked, “and now I need to wait my turn on the swing.”

In the early 1990s, on one such backcountry “sweat fest” in the Diamond Head region of Garibaldi Provincial Park, Blenkarn came up with an idea that eventually led to one of Arc’teryx’s patented breakthroughs: urethane-coated waterproof zippers. “I did a lot of work to put chemicals on zippers to keep moisture from getting in between layers and destroying the fabric. I want my buddies to be happy. Longer life span of clothing is what drives me.”

Whether that ambition extends to neon-hued garb is a moot point, at least for Arc’teryx, whose products, unlike SMS Clothing’s, feature less exuberant colour choices. Certainly, neon’s upside is that it makes finding your companions in whiteout conditions much easier. When it comes to survival, as in the global marketplace, bright and shiny concepts help both companies stand out in the crowd.

Original Article
Text CR Jack Christie

No more tow lines at Grouse ski run

Oh, for the days when newbie skiers had to endure the cruel initiation ritual of riding the rope tow

Riding a rope, or ski tow, was once one of the cardinal rites of passage when learning to downhill-ski on the North Shore. By the time snowboarding came along in the 1980s, chair lifts had long since replaced most of them. Still, examples of this brutish technology persisted.

This winter marks the centennial of the invention of the rope tow. Those who’ve put their snow mitts around a whirling rope and had their arms wrenched from their sockets know it’s a terrible irony that this most challenging manner of motorized ascent remained on bunny slopes such as the Paradise Bowl on Grouse Mountain and Mount Seymour’s Goldie Lake runs. Initiation rituals don’t come much crueler.

There’s also priceless entertainment in watching a newbie’s first attempts to latch onto a thick coil of twine as it spools past. Much like learning to smoothly operate the clutch of a standard-transmission car, mastering the technique of slowly easing yourself into motion as you gingerly clung to the rope took more than a few tries. Just as if you’d popped the clutch, if you grasped on too quickly you’d find yourself violently lurching forward, often stalling in the process.

On skis, this meant being flung sideways onto the slope. Woe betide those who persisted in clinging to the rope as they were hauled ingloriously uphill before finally giving up the fight, relinquishing the rope, then quickly hauling themselves out of the path of the person behind.

Over the summer, Grouse Mountain replaced its last remaining rope tow with the new Greenway quad chair lift. On the phone with the Georgia Straight, William Mbaho, Grouse’s communications manager, confirmed that the old tow has been mothballed, at least temporarily. “We would like to use it in some capacity,” he said. “Reinstalling it in the terrain park is one option. That decision will be made in early 2009.”

How fitting. Terrain parks are where young skiers and snowboarders spend hours executing off-axis manoeuvers. Rather than freeride the groomed runs, they much prefer to huck themselves off boxes, kink rails, rollers, and step-ups in a corner of the mountain fenced off for their enjoyment. Given the myriad challenges, clinging to a rope tow would offer yet another opportunity for creative self-expression.

That leaves the Goldie tow on Mount Seymour as the last remaining one in the Lower Mainland. Jikke Stegeman, sales and marketing manager at Mount Seymour, told the Straight that this rare double rope tow was installed in the 1950s as state-of-the-art technology. Originally powered by a diesel engine, it was more recently converted to electricity.

“I grew up in Blackstrap, Saskatchewan,” she recalled, “where riding a rope tow was a new experience on slippery, noodle-y skis while trying to hang on for dear life.” With Playland closed for the season, the Goldie tow offers the most thrilling ride in town.

If you’ve got room, consider installing a DIY rope tow in your back yard. The made-in-Canada technology is available from Toronto-based Motorsport Engineering. Given that North America’s first rope tow fired up in 1933 in the Laurentians near Montreal, you’ll help keep a long-standing winter tradition alive—and your physiotherapist gainfully employed.

Original Article
Text CR Jack Christie

Only the daring try Meager Creek volcanic hot springs in fall

When you’re looking for a little sanctuary, a wilderness hot spring does it every time. And there’s nothing like bathing in the most geologically active corner of Canada to up the adventure ante.

Such is the case at Meager Creek, where raincoast weather often adds even more frisson to the hot springs north of Pemberton. In October 2003, heavy rains triggered massive flooding in the Pemberton Valley. Fed by swollen tributaries such as Meager Creek, the Lillooet River, which charts a crooked course through the heart of the valley, jumped its banks. From the air, the scene looked more like the Gulf Islands than prime agricultural land.

The force of rapidly flowing water overwhelmed a 70-metre-long wooden bridge that spanned Meager Creek, cutting off road access to the hot springs located a short distance upstream on the west side of the creek. Thanks to an injection of $900,000 from the Provincial Emergency Program, which covers damage to high-value recreation sites such as the hot springs, a new steel-and-concrete structure was eventually installed. On August 1, the Meager Creek hot springs officially reopened, to the acclaim of local residents and Pemberton tourism officials alike.

In early September, I visited the springs to assess changes in the frequently volatile region. The bridge washout was only the most recent in a long history of cataclysmic events there that stretches back to 400 BC, the date of Mount Meager’s most recent volcanic eruption. That earth-shattering episode spewed ash as far as the Alberta-Saskatchewan border. An inventory of similar incidents includes an avalanche on Mount Meager’s companion, Pylon Peak, that covered a glacier over which Pylon Creek continues to bubble. Nearby stands the jagged remnant of another volcano, Devastator Peak. In 1975, a substantial rockslide on Devastator buried a party of geologists and partly blocked the flow of Meager Creek. The creek’s waters backed up, creating a small lake that took several years to drain. Geologists predict that a resumption of volcanic activity is likely to occur within the next several centuries. With these events in mind, sobering roadside markers were just installed along the Meager Creek Forestry Road. They direct travelers to refuge areas in case of emergency.

The sweeping grandeur of the peaks is enough to momentarily take a visitor’s mind off the prospect of suddenly finding oneself in the midst of chaos. The upside of all this geothermal activity is the presence of B.C.’s hottest and most voluminous hot springs, which percolate on an open terrace above Meager Creek’s silt-grey waters.

“Creek” doesn’t do justice to Meager. Even at its lowest annual level, this is not a stream to be trifled with. Still, as you soak beside it in a near-scalding thermal pool with the wild sounds of cascading white water in your ears, there’s no more relaxing place to be. Just ask Dave Edgington, chief administrative officer of the Squamish-Lillooet Regional District. On the telephone from his office in Pemberton, Edgington said that having bathed in the springs himself, he believes there is no finer restorative, holistic experience to be found within the SLRD’s purview. He was quick to credit not only financing from PEP for the restoration but also the Ministry of Forests crews who rebuilt the bridge, as well as funds from the Ministry of Tourism, Culture and the Arts that paid for a complete cleanup of the pools, change house, and pathways at the recreation site.

Although the hot springs are situated on provincial land, the site and nearby campground are managed by the local Lil’wat Nation, with the Lil’wat Business Corporation’s Creekside Resources in partnership with the Tourism Ministry. When contacted by telephone at his office in Mount Currie, the corporation’s general manager, Larry Miller, said that work crews spent months rehabbing the site prior to its reopening. “We cleared blow-downs and installed picnic tables as well as put in culverts and ditches to prevent Hot Springs Creek from undermining the access trail.”

Creekside Resources, which manages a network of recreation sites within Lil’wat traditional territory, has no elaborate plans to develop the hot springs beyond their current “rustic” status, but Miller hopes that a series of interpretive signs will be installed next year to explain the site’s geological and cultural history. “The Lil’wat have millennia of legends about the use of the springs, from poaching fish in the hot water to revering the springs for their natural healing qualities. We look after the place to demonstrate our ownership.”

Over the decades since a road to Meager Creek was built by B.C. Hydro in pursuit of geothermal-power production, the springs have been a magnet for both families and party animals. To preserve the peace and ensure that yahoos and dogs are kept away from the springs, a Creekside Resources caretaker monitors activity, including weather conditions, at the site. With good reason, “if in doubt, bail out” is the operative motto there.

Access: The Meager Creek hot springs lie 205 kilometres north of Vancouver via 52 kilometres of paved and gravel roads from Pemberton. Opening hours are 8 a.m. to 6 p.m. A day-use fee of $5 is collected at the springs from those 12 or older; a night at the pleasant campground on the Lillooet River Forestry Road is $10 per site. The hot springs officially close for the season on October 31. From then until snowfall shuts the Lillooet River Road, access to the springs is on foot or by bike from the gated entrance to the Meager Creek road, seven kilometres west.

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Text CR Jack Christie

Photo CR Louise Christie

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Make a splash in Vancouver’s prime paddling locations

Text CR Jack Christie
Photo CR Louise Christie

What do Jericho Beach, the Nicomekl River, False Creek, and Deep Cove have in common? When you’re looking to get out on the water around Vancouver, these just happen to be the top places to head for a paddle.

Wait a minute… Who could overlook Boundary Bay, Ladner Slough, or Grant Narrows? And what about Buntzen and Alouette lakes? There’s no doubt that when it comes to choosing the best place to dip your oar or paddle, Vancouver offers an embarrassment of watery riches, and of both the salty and sweet kinds. But at this point on the calendar, several launch spots stand out from the rest. Here are the Georgia Straight’s best of the best picks.

Nowhere around the city—maybe the entire country—offers more paddling opportunities than the Jericho Sailing Centre (1300 Discovery Street, www.jsca.bc.ca/). Despite its name, Jericho’s sandy beach and boat ramp provide quick access to Burrard Inlet for all types of watercraft, wind-powered or otherwise.

Whether you own or rent a kayak or harbour loftier ambitions to paddle an outrigger canoe or a surf ski, this is the place to head for either a short outing to Kits or a longer workout to a picnic spot on one of the beaches at Pacific Spirit Regional Park. An annual membership in Vancouver’s most unusual community centre is affordable—$39 for those under 18; $72 for singles; and $103 for a family of four. Whether you’re a member or not, there is no launch fee.

Similar carte blanche extends to paddlers at South Surrey’s Elgin Heritage Park (www.greatervancouverparks.com/ElginHeritagePark01.html). A dock and boat ramp on the Nicomekl River front the 1894 Stewart farmhouse. One of the rewards of journeying there in fall is crisp fruit from heirloom apple trees. Gather some that’s fallen to savour while floating on the Nicomekl’s gentle current.

Only a few kilometres from its confluence with the ocean at Mud Bay, the intertidal stream is sheltered on the north side by banks of silt washed down from the Nicomekl’s headwaters in Langley. Above the south shore, a dense forest robes the steep slopes with leafy grandeur, already emblazoned with early signs of autumn’s colourful cavalcade. Bring your binos. Herons stalk the shoreline; kingfishers and owls perch on cottonwood limbs.

Unlike the potentially troubled waters off Jericho, the Nicomekl’s abiding tranquility is transfixing as one paddle stroke after another dips into the river’s mirrored surface. Rail traffic on the Burlington Northern Santa Fe Railway’s wooden trestle bridge livens up the mellow ambiance. Hundreds of creosoted columns straddle the river mouth as Mud Bay and the North Shore Mountains glisten in the distance. Freight cars rumble by high above.

Even more entertaining is the stylish Amtrak Cascades passenger train, which rolls past midmorning and, at this time of year, near sundown, when there’s always a light show on offer. Elgin Heritage Park lies two kilometres west of the White Rock–Crescent Beach turnoff (Exit 10) from Highway 99 on Crescent Road.

Frustrated by living next to the ocean and not being able to float on it? Want to make your inner-city paddle dream come true? If you’re tired of just gazing at False Creek from the sea wall, there are a growing number of creekside sites to hand-launch a kayak, canoe, or even a rowboat. Since the mid-1980s, the dock on Granville Island’s Alder Bay has been the best place to accomplish this.

A far less utilized spot lies at the end of Spyglass Place on the southwest side of the Cambie Bridge. Concord Pacific founder Li Ka-Shing built a dock there in 1989 for both his boating enjoyment and public use. That was the first evidence of changes on the sheltered inlet over the following two decades.

The most recent redevelopment in the neighbourhood has been the rapid rise of the Southeast False Creek and Olympic Village. Paddle east of the dock, under the Cambie Bridge, to check it out. Along the way, test the span’s acoustic qualities with a high note or two and then size up the waterfront’s new design, including a landscaped “island” fenced off to landlubbers on the sea wall. The opening date for the unnamed area hasn’t been announced; don’t let that stop you from visiting it by sea right now.

No kayak? Sign up for the False Creek Community Centre’s fall paddling courses, which include use of the centre’s fleet, at $27 for a single drop-in (two hours), $53.50 monthly, or $214 per season (vancouver.ca/parks/cc/falsecreek/website/index.cfm). You must take an introductory sea-kayaking course before you can pay these rates and take out kayaks on your own. At the west end of the island, EcoMarine Ocean Kayak Centre (ecomarine.com/) also rents kayaks.

Deep Cove is by far the best place around Vancouver to explore the ocean and leave the city behind in either your own or a rented craft (Deep Cove Canoe and Kayak Centre; deepcovekayak.com/). On weekends, colourful ranks of stiletto kayaks and cigar-tube canoes line the pebbled beach beside the North Vancouver village’s pier. Weekdays, you’ll have the waterfront to yourself.

What boosts a Deep Cove paddling experience above the rest is packing along a yummy treat to enjoy when you go ashore in Say Nuth Khaw Yum Heritage Park/Indian Arm Provincial Park (bcparks.ca/) or Cates/Whey-ah-Wichen Park, both comfortable distances from the centre. Deep Cove lies 10 kilometres northeast of the Ironworkers Memorial (Second Narrows) Crossing.

New outdoor guidebooks keep wanderers on track

Text CR Jack Christie
Photo CR Louise Christie
Original Article

Well-written guidebooks are worth their weight in time—as in, time well spent consulting one in advance of an adventure. That’s particularly true here in B.C., where, from one year to the next, roads are washed out by monsoon rains and new trails appear under the aegis of local stewardship groups.

At the same time, new parks mushroom in urban regions and, on a larger scale, within the vast wilderness that lies beyond sidewalk’s end. Whether you’re looking for an afternoon bike ride or a weeklong backcountry traverse, two recently published outdoor guides make ideal companions for summer exploration.

Gordon White originally published Stein Valley Wilderness Guidebook in 1991. In 1995, a 107,191-hectare provincial park was created, during the waning months of Mike Harcourt’s NDP government. The Stein Valley Nlaka’pamux Heritage Park, west of Lytton, came about after two decades of hard-fought lobbying by a coalition of conservation groups and First Nations. Interviewed at his North Vancouver home, White spoke with the Georgia Straight about the significance of that achievement.

“In terms of First Nations’ rights and wilderness protection on a grassroots level, the Stein is one of the great success stories in Canadian history,” White affirmed. “The park’s creation came from a kaleidoscope of groups working together.”

Indeed, one of the major themes that echo through the freshly updated edition is that the Stein Valley would not have received official protection without massive public support. White devotes an entire chapter in his exhaustively researched Stein Valley Wilderness Guidebook (Selcouth Publishing, $24.95, http://www.sandhillbooks.com/cgi-bin/sandhillbooks/00084.html) to the larger topic of the politics of wilderness protection in this decade, as focused through that lens. Suffice it to say that what was achieved in the Stein has come to serve as a template for future successes.

“In part, I used the first edition as a soapbox to make the case for preserving the entire Stein watershed,” he said. “The new edition addresses the threat of underfunding. Between the Glen Clark and Gordon Campbell governments, funding to B.C. provincial parks has been reduced by 40 percent over the past decade.”

During the same time, White observed that public apathy replaced activism. “There’s more cynicism about the political process now than in the 1980s and ’90s. People have to get reconnected.” How is that going to happen? “By getting out and experiencing wilderness paradises like the Stein, and more especially in northern B.C. in places like the Chilcotin, the Taku, the Skeena, and the Stikine headwaters. There are some big wilderness issues up there.”

White noted that, to B.C. Parks’ credit, since the establishment of the Stein Valley Nlaka’pamux Heritage Park, river crossings have been improved in the protected area, bear-proof food lockers have been installed from the lower valley to the alpine, and much of the trail network damaged or obliterated by forest fires in the upper canyon in 1996 has recently been brushed out.

Despite washouts in 2003 on the Lizzie Lake Forest Service Road, which once allowed trekkers to drive to the park’s western approach near Mount Currie, a new 12-kilometre trail now leads around the worst-affected areas. “Sure it adds an extra day to a visit, but I’m trying to let people know how very pleasant the new trail is,” White said with obvious delight.

The same enthusiasm for exploring new routes infuses Whistler Mountain Bike Guide, by Brian Finestone and Kevin Hodder (Quickdraw Publications, $23.25, http://www.quickdrawpublications.com/index.htm). Finestone spoke with the Georgia Straight from the cab of his truck while inspecting trails in the Whistler Mountain Bike Park, which he manages.

“Despite the fact that there are several detailed maps to bike trails around the valley, we saw a void in the self-guided–book market,” he explained. Finestone and Hodder previously identified a similar need among skiers and snowboarders: their two-volume trail guide to Whistler and Blackcomb grew out of experiences gained when the two worked as patrollers on the twin mountains during winter.

The latest project came when Finestone took up mountain biking after a hiatus of several years. “I had so many bikes stolen that I stopped riding for a while,” he said. “When I decided to get back into the saddle, I found it hard to find the trails I was hearing about. There’s been a meteoric rise in trail construction, but for many of them it’s sort of like lore. You have to find the right guy at the right bike shop, then follow his cryptic directions.”

In that respect alone, Whistler Mountain Bike Guide’s detailed descriptions, including photos and an easily understood profile of the rise and fall of each trail, represent a welcome change. “From die-hard to family trails, we covered 131 of the best bike routes on offer in Whistler, plus dirt jumps, and trials and skateboard parks. We even suggest linkups of various trails for those looking for ultra-savage, epic rides,” Finestone said.

The Whistler Valley has an interlacing network of municipal, commercial, and rogue bike trails that run the gamut from paved greenways to rocks-and-roots single track, but Finestone and Hodder’s guide achieves the feat of turning the mysterious into the familiar at a glance. Icons indicate things like sections of slippery rock and man-made stunts, which proves enormously helpful when you’re planning a ride, as does the inclusion of GPS data.

With Whistler Mountain Bike Guide at hand, there’s no excuse for getting lost in the woods or hung out to dry on Comfortably Numb, Finestone’s favourite new trail. Now if he can just keep light-fingered thieves away from his bike, all that research will have been worthwhile.

Badminton interest whips up across B.C.

Text CR Jack Christie

Photo CR Louise Christie

Original Article

Here’s a familiar summer scene: a family arrives at a neighbourhood park, unpacks for a day of picnicking, and out pops the sports gear. It’s practically a given that along with a soccer ball and a Frisbee will be a handful of badminton racquets.

For all the hoopla that surrounds ball or disk sports in Metro Vancouver, swatting a feathered shuttlecock, or birdie, over a net doesn’t garner anywhere near the same respect. With the advent of this summer’s Olympic Games in Beijing, that perception may change.

The first two events to sell out there were the opening ceremonies and, wait for it, badminton. Once the Vancouver 2010 winter games wrap up, badminton is poised to reap a huge boost locally as its courts will become one of the anchor tenants at the almost-complete Richmond Oval on River Road.

Just upstream from the Oval on the opposite side of the Fraser River’s Middle Arm sits the new Sport B.C. building on Cessna Drive. That’s where the Georgia Straight recently met with Badminton B.C. executive director Brock Turner.

“I firmly believe there’s a world champion in B.C.,” he said. “We just haven’t found them yet.” Turner asserted that now that Vancouver is truly an international city, there’s a prime opportunity for this. “Southeast Asia is the hotbed of world badminton and those people are coming here to Richmond.” Badminton B.C. estimates that 40,000 to 60,000 people play the sport in the province. “We think 100,000 kids in school have some exposure to badminton,” Turner said.

Don’t wait for 2010 to confirm that. Look no further than No. 3 Road, the heart of Lulu Island’s commercial district, where former Canadian national badminton team member Darryl Yung and his wife, Michelle, operate two public badminton facilities.

The six-court ClearOne (www.clearonebadminton.com) opened in 2003; two years later, the Yungs added a second 12-court facility, ClearTwo, a block away. “We teach as many as 500 students per week,” said the effervescent Darryl, who played in the mixed and men’s doubles at the 1996 Atlanta Olympic Games, an event he described as the most exhilarating point of his life.

“We’re reaching a lot of people, including coaching provincial- and national-team players. When the 24 courts open at the Richmond Oval, badminton will be prominent in Vancouver like never before.”

To meet current demand, this year Yung hired two coaches from Indonesia, the former coach of the Chinese women’s team, plus a coach from Taipei. “Badminton is the second most-played sport in the world next to soccer,” he pointed out. “There’s incredible motivation for young players to get involved.

The speed of the game is so fast-paced. It really appeals to kids, and it’s becoming one of those trends. People like the exercise and excitement, the quick response, the agility and hand-eye coordination required to keep up with the birdie flying back and forth at over 300 kilometres an hour.” (The maximum recorded speed of a smashed shuttlecock is 332 kilometres per hour, faster than any other racquet sport.)

Smashing and driving. Lifting and blocking. Welcome to this not-so-delicate sport that made its Canadian debut in Vancouver in the late 1890s. Badminton B.C. came about in 1925, making it one of the oldest provincial sports organizations in the Dominion. Canada was one of the nine founding nations of the Badminton World Federation (www.worldbadminton.net) in 1934. Today there are 170 members.

Although Canada has never ranked higher than 10th place internationally, Turner pointed out that, locally, the Vancouver Racquets Club, adjacent Nat Bailey Stadium, has nurtured more players from novice-to-Olympic status than any other facility in the country.

“Claire Backhouse-Sharpe is arguably the best player ever produced in Canada,” he said, in reference to the two-time world champion and 1997 B.C. Sports Hall of Fame inductee. “There’s 1,400 people playing on seven [VRC] courts from 6 a.m. to 2 a.m., with lineups during prime time. The business model is that you open a facility and it immediately fills up and usage never ends.”

Turner noted not only the Yungs’ success but also that of other indoor facilities, like Richmond Pro (www.richmondprobadminton.com), whose 15 courts make it the largest such centre in North America, and Yumo (Chinese for shuttlecock)(www.yumo.ca), whose six Olympic-size courts were funded by a group of Lulu Islanders.

Internationally, badminton matches fill arenas throughout Asia. Surprisingly, though, Denmark hosts the world’s most prestigious professional league, where matches attract upward of 3,000 fans and a countrywide television audience that watches as four matches take place simultaneously. Although Indonesia, South Korea, and Malaysia consistently produce world-class players, in recent times China has emerged as the dominant country.

This summer’s Olympics will provide a real challenge for Canadian athletes such as North Vancouver’s Anna Rice. The Georgia Straight first spoke with the 27-year-old during the Canadian National Championships held at ClearTwo in January, where she defended her women’s singles title.

When contacted recently by phone in Copenhagen, where she plays for top division Team Aarhus, Rice said she’s enjoyed a good year. Currently ranked 23rd in the world, she’s approaching the Beijing games with a sense of seasoned optimism.

“I’ve beaten three of the top 10 women and been close in matches with the top five. I’m hoping to cause some upsets among the Koreans, Chinese, and Indonesians this summer.”

Faced by what Darryl Yung sees as the real possibility of Chinese players sweeping all five badminton gold medals, Rice remains even more upbeat now than when she decided at 16 to ditch Highland dancing and volleyball and make swatting a birdie her principal passion.

“Badminton is such a complete and complex sport,” Rice said. “It combines an aerobic workout with the anaerobics of explosive muscle power. Strategy and tactics guarantee a mental as well as a physical challenge. And you develop spectacular fitness.”

She credited coach Julia Chen with introducing a new tactical perspective into her training when the former Chinese national team member came to Vancouver in the 1990s. Rice likened Chen’s move to a Canadian hockey coach going to Asia.

Given his sport’s renaissance locally, Turner feels in his bones that Canada’s badminton chances are rosier now than they’ve been since the 1970s. Look no further than nine-year-old Clement Chow for evidence of that.

When the Georgia Straight dropped by ClearTwo in early June, Yung was gently encouraging the young prodigy, who responded with one killer shot after another, alternating smashes with soft push strokes while his mother, Yvonne, looked on.

She recalled that on a recent family holiday in Shanghai, Clement and his older brother, Calvin, who won top singles honours in the under-14 division at the 2008 B.C. Winter Games in Cranbrook, joined their Chinese counterparts for a practice. “It was so hot and there was no air con,” Yvonne recalled. “The sweat was pouring off them. It was a good lesson. They got to see how hard those kids have to practise compared to us.”

A short time later, Clement wiped his brow after 30 minutes of hitting birdie after birdie while perfecting lunging and leaping techniques that resembled fencing. On adjacent courts, a kids’ group lesson was wrapping up while pairs and quartets of young professionals shared laughs as they rallied back and forth. A constant stream of children and adults filed in and out. The call of summer wafted in on the breeze: badminton, anyone?

For information on badminton-related activities throughout Metro Vancouver, visit www.badmintonbc.com.

Skaha Bluffs purchase blunts urban sprawl

Text CR Jack Christie

Photo of Crystal Klym CR Louise Christie

Crystal Klym’s efforts to rid Penticton’s Skaha Bluffs of invasive plant species has earned her the nickname “Noxious Weed”. That moniker might not suit everyone’s taste, especially a young woman’s, but during a tour of the bluffs last July, the South Okanagan Valley resident said that she proudly wore the handle.

As Klym led the way along the trails that run below a series of renowned climbing pitches, including the sheer-faced Doctor’s Wall, she repeatedly pulled up handfuls of knee-high Dalmatian toadflax. Her interest wasn’t in the yellow flowers budding on the slender stalks. Instead, she examined the stems for signs of a weevil being tested as a bio-control agent on invasive species such as knapweed and thistle. Weevils eat the stems, she explained, which stresses the plant into producing fewer seeds. “Even though toadflax is a root propagator, the bugs might help make the plant feel overwhelmed and,” she sighed, “give up.”

For Bill Turner, giving up is not an option. On the phone from his office in Victoria, the executive director of the Land Conservancy of British Columbia laughed heartily when asked if he ever thought the multiyear campaign to purchase the Skaha Bluffs and surrounding land might not bear fruit. “I never lost faith,” he said. “You don’t lose if you never give up. That’s the secret to success in this business.” Indeed, on January 19, the conservancy, the B.C. Ministry of Environment, and the Nature Conservancy of Canada announced that they had joined with Mountain Equipment Co-op (more than 700 of whose members made personal donations), and other supporters to acquire a 304-hectare property, including the popular Skaha Bluffs, for $5.25 million.

Anders Ourum, former executive director of the Climbers Access Society of British Columbia, believes this is the largest sum ever spent in North America to acquire a climbing site. Ourum said there were both parallels and dissimilarities between the scenario that played out in Penticton and the Access Society’s efforts to preserve the Little Smoke Bluffs in Squamish a decade ago. “They’re both in urban settings. We were able to preserve the Smoke Bluffs for climbers and hikers as a municipal park, but that didn’t stop development for going ahead immediately adjacent.”

Ourum pointed out that although there was still work to do to finalize the details of the proposed Skaha Bluffs Provincial Park, the threat of urban sprawl had been blunted there. “We could be thanking people for a whole week,” he said, particularly MEC, which Ourum credited as being the most instrumental partner. “They went to TLC [the Land Conservancy of B.C.] with $400,000 impetus-and-seed money. That’s where it all started several years ago, when the co-op said the access situation was critical.”

In a city such as Penticton, which routinely hosts large sporting events and festivals, climbing may not seem like much of a tourist-generating engine. Appearances can be deceiving, especially as most of the action on the gneiss rock takes place beyond sight of the surrounding beaches and vineyards. Howie Richardson, author of Skaha Rockclimbs (Elaho Publishing), knows better. When contacted, he asserted that over the course of a year, the bluffs draw as many people as the annual Ironman triathlon, which in one weekend attracts more than 2,500 athletes plus supporters and spectators. “The bluffs are a major destination for climbers throughout western North America, especially in spring, when this area dries out before anywhere else,” said Richardson, who is widely credited with popularizing rock-climbing in the Okanagan. Although a few climbers had explored there in the 1970s, Howie was the first one to begin in earnest, in 1987. Today, he estimates the number of routes is approaching 900. “This is a gem of a little place, with rock sculptures, wildlife habitat, and views over Skaha and Okanagan lakes and the city. When the new park opens, it will be used a lot more than it is now.”

And how. During a phone conversation, Keith Baric, a planner at the Ministry of Environment’s Okanagan regional office, pointed out that the area used by climbers, about eight hectares, represents only a small portion of the newly acquired property. Mountain bikers, hunters, wildlife enthusiasts, and community ecologists such as Klym are just as eager to explore the planned park. “A purchase of this magnitude is a new one for me,” Baric said, noting that as far back as 1991 a 109-hectare site surrounding the bluffs was identified as a possible park under the regional land-and-resource management plan. “The ministry has been involved for years but couldn’t muster up funds until TLC got things going.”

In all likelihood, two herds of California bighorn sheep, which Baric characterized as an “umbrella” species, are among the biggest beneficiaries of the land purchase. Baric pointed out that had the property been converted to housing and a golf course, this would have divided the north and south sheep populations, which intermingle in a steep, narrow draw around Gillies Creek. “It’s critical to mitigate the impact of development on wildlife movement through this highly fragmented region between Okanagan Mountain Park and the Vaseux-Bighorn National Wildlife Area.”

Clearly, humans can be just as invasive a species as noxious weeds. On that count, Skaha is a bluff that was called just in the nick of time.

Access: For detailed climbing-route information, visit skaha.org. Until a new access route is completed in 2009, follow Crescent Hill Road east of South Main Street, then Valleyview Road south to the well-marked trailhead at Braesyde Farms, a short, pleasant drive along a narrow, winding road. Note: depending on the size of vehicle, an escalating parking fee of $10 and up is charged at the farm.

Myra Canyon’s cyclists ready to roll again

Text CR Jack Christie

Photography CR Louise Christie

The trestles are back! The trestles are back! Phoenixlike, 12 wooden trestle bridges on the Myra Canyon section of the Kettle Valley Railway Trail near Kelowna have reappeared after vaporizing in flames during 2003’s forest fires. At the time, the loss seemed irreplaceable. Five years and $13.5 million in provincial and federal grants later, the Myra Canyon Trestle Restoration Society ( www.myratrestles.com ) plans to unveil the new bridges on June 22.

From his home in Kelowna, Ken Campbell, chair of the reconstruction committee, said that the results are “pretty fantastic”. In the early 1990s, Campbell and a group of volunteers created the society and set about making the Myra Canyon trestles safer for walkers and cyclists by installing railings and deck coverings. “Our group took over the management of this section of the former railway line and helped turn it into Myra-Bellevue Provincial Park as well as a national historic site.”

The task of replicating the trestles was contracted out to professional bridge builders, who drew on the original plans. How do the new ones compare? “Virtually identical,” claimed Campbell, who said his emotions since he viewed the charred remains have gone from devastation to elation. “There was never any doubt in our group that they would be rebuilt. They had become so internationally popular. I met a German tour group yesterday coming through to see the results.”

Since 1994, the bible on the network of rail trails that spirals across the southern part of the province has been Dan and Sandra Langford’s Cycling the Kettle Valley Railway (Rocky Mountain Books; www.planeteon.net/~dan/). When reached at their home in Sherwood Park, Alberta, Dan recalled that after reading a magazine article in 1991, the couple took “a leap of faith” when they rode their mountain bikes along the Kettle Valley from Midway to Penticton. They would have gone farther but rails were still in place west of there. “We wrote a book hoping someone would notice,” he said with a chuckle.

Over the years and with subsequent revisions, the Langfords received daily e-mails from cycle tourists across Europe, North America, New Zealand, and Australia. Then the inferno struck. Book sales plummeted from 5,000 to 500 per year, and so did the trail’s reputation. “Before the trestles went down, an average of one group tour a day would start out,” Dan said. “Suddenly the perception was that the fire had finished the trail. This is a 1,000-kilometre route, but the 18 kilometres from Myra to Ruth [stations] were the diamond in the ring. When word of the loss got around, it spelled the end, not just for us but it took the wind out of small businesses along the way which had caught on big with international cyclists. Hotels and B & Bs changed hands or closed their doors.”

With a new edition in the works, Dan figures that’s all about to change. “The next couple of years could be really big.”

One factor mars this renaissance: damage inflicted on the trail by all-terrain vehicles. “They were just a little hiccup in the late 1990s,” Dan said, “but now it’s a mess, especially when conditions are dusty. The fat tires scuff up the trail and make it too soft for cycling.” Articles have begun appearing in Europe about the issue, prompting calls to the Langfords from magazine editors. “The KVR is also a part of the Trans Canada Trail system, which is supposed to be for nonmotorized use only. This is such an important resource for B.C. We’re going to lose a lot of international business. It’s embarrassing to be on a tour and find the trail is almost impassable. Word gets around really quick. Fifty percent of our e-mails now concern ATVs.”

Léon Lebrun, Trails B.C.’s provincial vice president and the southwest regional chair responsible for the Trans Canada Trail (www.trailsbc.ca), is keenly aware of the problem. Reached by phone at his home in Coquitlam, Lebrun said B.C. is “probably the slowest location on the continent” to come to terms with licensing ATVs. “We’re still up in the air about motorized vehicles for a host of reasons. The primary problem with ATVs is that they degrade trails for cyclists, making riding arduous and discouraging.”

Lebrun feels that Quebec provides the best example of separating the two user groups. ATVs are licensed, trails are patrolled, and fines are handed out where necessary. “There’s still an element in B.C. who feel they can have access to anything they want on Crown land any way they darn well please.” Lebrun pointed to the Recreation Trails Strategy initiated by the Ministry of Tourism, Sports, and the Arts to deal with the problem, but he said Trails B.C. is still “not really happy” with the current trial model. “It’s a huge issue for us, especially given that we’ve already resolved conflict between snowmobilers and cross-country skiers where there’s no longer the animosity that once prevailed.”

This cloud won’t overshadow the excitement surrounding the reopening of the trestles. Celebratory rides and walks along the Myra Canyon route are planned both in June in Kelowna and in July to Penticton by Trails B.C. as part of the Peach City’s centennial festivities. Locally, Vancouver-based cycle-tour operator Great Explorations (great-explorations.com) is leading a two-week, 650-kilometre tour of the Kettle Valley Railway from Castlegar to Hope to coincide with the festivities. Owner Robbin McKinney, who guided Lebrun and Dan Langford on a similar tour in 1996, has scheduled the ride to arrive at Myra Canyon in time for the trestles’ reopening party, with Lebrun and Langford once again in tow. Like trestles, one good ride deserves another.

Follow the scenic route to the Comox Valley

Follow the scenic route to the Comox Valley

Text CR Jack Christie Photo CR Louise Christie

Over the past decade, I’ve seen numerous people flee Vancouver for greener pastures in the Comox Valley. Affordable housing heads the list of attractions, but outdoor pursuits are a close second. Like to ski or snowboard? Mountain bike? Golf? Sail? All on the same day? ’Nuff said.

Together, the valley’s three principal towns—Courtenay, Comox, and Cumberland—go back to the days of first contact between Europeans and First Nations in colonial New Caledonia, as B.C. was known in the mid-1800s. Attractions for new arrivals are as evident now as then. From abundant seafood to lush farmland, this valley provides all the necessities of life, including wireless high-speed Internet.

Yes, the times are changing in the valley, though what I enjoy as much as anything is the journey itself. Driving the Oceanside Route (Highway 19A) offers a glance back in time to an era before the Inland Island Highway (Highway 19) was completed. Since then, the welcomed difference is the pace of traffic, much more sedate now as speed-driven travellers head for the express route. Take your time getting to the Comox Valley. Trust me. Something serene will happen in the process.

Oyster Bay. Fanny Bay. Clam Bay. Shelter Bay. Get the picture? The Oceanside Route begins 25 kilometres north of Nanaimo at Craig’s Crossing and leads 80 kilometres to Courtenay, continuing on to Campbell River. This is the more scenic bayside approach to the Comox Valley that travellers on the Island Highway never experience. Don’t resist the temptation to stop when the feeling grips you, particularly north of Parksville, where an expanse of sand flats and oyster beds fans out into the Salish Sea. Slow down as you pass through Union Bay, whose historic brick post office gives mute testimony to the little village’s past as an important port a century ago. A steady breeze blows across cobble beaches that give way at low tide to hard-packed sand, where herons stalk, seals bark, ravens caw, and bald eagles intermingle with skimboarders.

Pull in to the rest area at Oyster Bay Shoreline Park, 30 kilometres north of Courtenay, where the coastline suddenly opens up with sweeping vistas north to Quadra Island and Campbell River. A monster midden of shells packing a powerfully salty aroma surrounds Mac’s Oysters on Fanny Bay, just south of the Denman Island ferry dock at Buckley Bay. Quaint restaurants and guest lodges dot the coast and beckon you to stop. And so you should, especially as towns like Qualicum Beach go to such admirable effort to put their best faces forward with showy floral displays.

One of the best places to begin an exploration is the Comox Valley Farmers’ Market (comoxvalleyfarmersmarket.com), located at the Exhibition Grounds on Headquarters Road in Courtenay. The market takes place on Saturdays, April to October, and is one of the best ways to connect with locals as well as to view and sample valley products, from berry pies to venison sausage to handwoven baskets to gold-medal cheese from the Smith family’s Natural Pastures Cheese Company (635 McPhee Avenue, Courtenay; 250-334-4422 or 1-866-244-4422; www.naturalpastures.com). They’re just as proud of their certified-heritage-farm status as they are of their award-winning Camembert cheese, not to mention seven other soft and semisoft varieties, including Wasabi Verdelait, in which Japan meets Switzerland.

When it comes to working up an appetite, head to Seal Bay Forest and Nature Park, where you can cycle, picnic, run, swim, or simply walk the trails. Despite, or perhaps because of, the fact that this is an official B.C. Wildlife Watch viewing site, be prepared to whoop like a loon on the 15-kilometre, multi-use, single-track trail that loops around the western portion of this park’s diverse landscape. If you’re biking, the soft, undulating pathway breeds confidence in your ability to go fast and feel safe at the same time as you roll through the forest. The high-pitched sound of your approach will also help alert others, who in all probability will be in the same exalted headspace. Start anywhere along the loop and follow the yellow markers. As well, a two-kilometre wheelchair loop leads through the woods from Bates or Seabank road.

If you’re not feeling quite so pumped, you’ll appreciate the numerous trails marked solely for those on foot, such as the Don Apps Trail, which leads hikers down through fern-clad ravines to a wide bay, a special place worth seeking out. At about Easter time, California and Steller sea lions appear along this coast, particularly around Seal Bay, as they pursue the annual oolichan migration. Take care: the urge to slip away for good to the Comox Valley is contagious.

Access: Travel information is available at the Comox Valley Visitor Information Centre (2040 Cliffe Avenue, Courtenay; 250-334-3234 or 1-888-357-4471; www.discovercomoxvalley.com). Guidebooks are available at Blue Heron Books (1775 Comox Road, Comox; 250-339-6111) and Laughing Oyster Book Shop (286 5th Street, Courtenay; 250-334-2511).

To find Seal Bay Forest and Nature Park, follow signs east from the Island Highway to the Powell River ferry on Ryan Road, then north on a blend of Anderton, Waveland, and Bates roads. Alternatively, east from Island Highway on Coleman Road and south on Bates Road to the main parking area; trails can also be accessed from Hardy, Huband, and Mitchell roads, among others.

The Comox Valley is well-served by extensive networks of both road and off-road trails. There are bike shops to serve each specialty, including Mountain City Cycle (120 Fifth Street, Courtenay; 250-334-0084), Simon’s Cycles (3–1841 Comox Avenue, Comox; 250-339-6683; www.simoncycle.com), and Trail Bicycles (1999 Lake Trail Road, Courtenay; 250-334-2456) for sales, service, rentals, gear, and trail info.
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Snowcats near Whistler give more powder to the people

Text CR Jack Christie

Photo CR Louise Christie

Imagine discovering a dream you never knew you had. That’s how Ken Achenbach describes owning a backcountry snowcat operation near Whistler. A pioneer at heart, Achenbach—who helped invent the twin-tip snowboard, which revolutionized the fledgling sport in the mid 1980s—bought into Powder Mountain Catskiing and Catboarding four years ago. This past winter he took centre stage with the 20-year-old company. Not that running a business in Whistler is anything new to the forward-thinking entrepreneur, who opened the resort’s first snowboard shop in 1988 and still runs the original snowboard summer camp, the Camp of Champs, on Blackcomb Glacier.

On the phone from Powder Mountain’s day lodge, Achenbach said that the opportunity to run a snowcat business was too good to resist. “How can you say no to an area 15 minutes from your home that gets twice as much snow as Whistler Blackcomb?” In fact, on Achenbach’s superb location on the slopes of five adjacent peaks—including Tricouni Peak, Mount Brew, and Cypress Peak—storms blasting in off the Pacific drop significantly more precipitation than further inland. “We’ve had so much powder the past two months that we lost track of our snow pit where we measure the depth,” he said, estimating that by now this year’s total accumulation is well over six metres.

Moving through that much white stuff requires legs of steel or a whole lot of horsepower. Winter travel has spawned innovations from dogsleds to snowmobiles, and nowhere more than in the True North. It started in the 1940s with Joseph-Armand Bombardier’s first B12s; Allan Drury took things further in 1975 when he brought Caterpillars to the Selkirk Wilderness Skiing lodge in the West Kootenays, the world’s first snowcat-skiing operation. Drury’s larger-than-life persona is reflected in the passion Achenbach and his operations partner, snowboard maestro Don Schwartz, have brought to their new venture.

It didn’t take long for the partners to spread the powder stoke among old friends, such as Jake Burton and Tony Hawk. In January, with an elite international roster of snowboarders, skateboarders, and surfers, Burton and Hawk met up to shoot backcountry scenes with Powder Mountain for an upcoming action-sports feature film, Life as a Movie, directed by Taylor Steele. As Achenbach explained, “Taylor changed the face of surf movies. His idea this time is to gather top riders from the three different board worlds and shoot them experiencing life from the other side of the mirror. I had big-wave surfers from Hawaii trying to manage armpit-deep powder asking me, ‘How do you ride this?’ ”

One of the charms of exploring the backcountry by snowcat rather than helicopter is the sense of camaraderie fostered by riding with a dozen other powder hounds in a heated cab mounted atop a PistenBully snow groomer. The experience is less like the aerial assault of a mountain and more like catching your breath on a chair lift with friends while comparing notes on the previous run.

Just over the Pemberton Icefield north of Whistler lies the Hurley Pass, far enough inland for the powder snow that falls there on the South Chilcotin peaks to be freeze-dried by arctic outflow winds. Those gusts may rattle a few windows of Backcountry Snowcats’ new 10-person lodge at the top of the pass. Still, that’s a small price to pay for the powder that mounds up in deep drifts and the clear skies that invariably follow winter storm systems.

Half of the fun of getting to the lodge is the snowmobile ride from owners Reg and Kathy Milne’s base in Pemberton Meadows. Reg cut his teeth grooming snowmobile trails, servicing microwave transmitter towers, and coordinating snowcat operations for film crews.

The Milnes started their business in 2006 after working for almost two decades on obtaining a backcountry tenure permit from the provincial government. “There were many years when we thought it would never come,” Reg said when reached by phone in Pemberton. “But we knew that with the rising demand in the marketplace for untracked powder terrain we’d succeed, especially with snowboarders who are looking for a surf experience.”

Snowcats offer a mid-range option for backcountry exploration, positioned between lift-serviced resorts and pricier helicopter adventures. A typical snowcat day is $450, whether you head off on a day trip with Powder Mountain (1-877-793-7349; powdermountaincatskiing.com/ ) or overnight with Backcountry Snowcats (1-604-932-2166 or 1-888-246-1111; snowcats.ca/ ). Some of the best conditions of the season occur between now and the end of April. For a comprehensive listing of snowcat and helicopter ski and snowboard companies in B.C., visit www.helicatcanada.com/

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