Day 12 - Revelstoke

Revelstoke.

So much mystique surrounds Revelstoke. Even its name evokes mystery. It is the place near where snowboard legend Craig Kelly, despite his experience and mountain knowledge, died in an avalanche.

The place is surrounded my majestic and craggy peaks. Peak after peak of stony, jagged peaks. Commanding attention.

Helicopters constantly circle and jet through the air. Excitement. Ferrying people to untold snowy backcountry riches.

The day was crisp and was a portent to icey conditions. We got to the mountain after I discovered awesome coffee at Modern, who sold Osso Negro which is from Nelson and which has been my favourite so far.

The mountain is a baby in terms of development. Facilities are still rudimentary, the road to the resort is unsealed and in fairly poor condition. Once the new developments start becoming ready for occupancy, these things will need to be rectified. I think the customers, particularly the well-heeled Americans, will demand it. Development is moving apace.

The new day lodge is awesome, with a deck facing I think west to catch the afternoon sun. The new gondola gets you close to the top of Mt Mackenzie rapidly.

We rode down to The Stoke which is another detachable lift (we've had barely any fixed chairs so far, mainly at WH20 and Big White) that whisks you toward the peak.

We rode The Last Spike which apparently is around 15km top to bottom. It was for sure a long run. We did that twice then next time I made Packy hike to the peak.

It was pretty frightening being at the boundary and being confronted by a myriad of warning signs about respecting the backcountry, riding with the appropriate equipment and there is no help if you need it.

The bootpack to the peak with about 10 others was very steep, the air was thin, though not really so thin to cause an issue if you are relatively fit. Some people were struggling with the combination of altitude, walking and steepness of the climb.

We got to the peak and again signs abounded warning of the backcountry risks. A survival hut was present.

Everyone was checking all their gear and there was a real sense of solemnity to it all. Considered seriousness. Lack of frivolity. Some tense smiles present but everyone seemed to just know how serious it all is.

We rode down the inbounds face to the top of the The Stoke lift, and then down again. The variation in runs was fairly considerable, ranging from crisp but giving packed groomed cat tracks, to soft melting spring runs down low (very reminiscent of most Australian sun-facing runs in spring) to hard icey runs which reminded me of early ice runs down Little Buller Spur.

We bailed after 2 hours and with the forecast for the next few days for sunshine only, we regretfully had to leave Revie for Kicking Horse, where we hoped the forecast weekend snow would come.

Some photos below.

Ayres Rock was missing. Ha ha. I'm hilarious.