The mountains of British Columbia offer untold opportunities for every kind of skiing, including backcountry touring, snowcat skiing and heli-skiing. There are many ski resorts and many backcountry lodges, mostly located near small interior towns, away from large population centers and international airports.

Getting to a backcountry skiing holiday can involve travel on roads that traverse narrow valleys and high passes. After heavy snowfalls, roads can sometimes be closed while crews clear away debris from slides.

At end of January 2004, a heavy snowfall caused overnight closures on some BC highways. Two days later, a second storm closed other roads, including Trans Canada highway. This is a tale of getting from Vancouver to Golden BC in midst of these storms.

The weather in Vancouver was mild. There had been a recent gaggle of small disturbances, but no big storms. The freezing level was too high. We prayed for snow. We watched forecasts, but things looked “iffy”.

After months of anticipation, our trip to Chatter Creek was nearing. In two days our annual powder-bash would begin. Four days of cat skiing in Rocky Mountain powder!

This year, we had a group of 24 old friends and regular ski buddies. Many had been to Chatter Creek before and knew what to expect. We were all anxiously counting down days.

Most of us live in Vancouver, Squamish and Whistler. Individually, we had made our arrangements for getting to Golden. Some would fly to Calgary, rent a car and drive together to Golden, a four-hour trip through Banff, Lake Louise and Kicking Horse Pass. They would arrive in Golden just in time for our 3:00 PM helicopter flight into lodge.

Others would drive from Vancouver or Whistler, at best a long nine-hour trip. With an early start on flight day, and with hard steady driving, they should easily reach Golden in time. I would leave a day early, stay with one of group in Kamloops, and have a leisurely drive to Golden next day.

Missing helicopter flight to lodge was to be avoided. No one’s budget covered an extra night in Golden and a private helicopter flight.

The flights don’t wait. They have to go on time. They would deliver us to lodge and bring out departing guests. The transfer starts in mid-afternoon (time varies as winter progresses) and has to be to be completed in daylight.

Two days to go and telephone rang. “Hi, it’s Merle.”

My heart sank. A call this late from Merle McKnight, Chatter Creek’s marvelous manager, could only mean trouble. What was wrong?

“We’ve had a 'dump'! The passes are closed in both directions. No one is getting through. Crews will work all night and roads should open sometime tomorrow. However, there is talk of yet more snow. Get here a day early. Come tomorrow!"

Good news and bad news! Lots of fresh snow at Chatter Creek, but getting there would be a challenge.

One always heeds Merle’s advice! As my group’s organizer, it was time to start phoning.

Hours later, everyone had been alerted. Most were changing their plans but some could not or decided to chance it. Not a good plan! Weather in Interior can be unpredictable.

I called Al in Kamloops. “We’ll be there by 10:00 AM tomorrow, let’s go right through. We can ski Kicking Horse in morning, before our flight”. “Fine”! Al would be ready.

A few hours later, a mate and I were on road. After days of drizzle, day dawned sunny and mild. It was like spring! The first mountain road is Coquihalla. It was bare and sky was clear. There was no hint of a storm. The roads ahead were reported open.

I thought to myself, “I’m never going to hear end of this! After getting all those people to change their plans, I’m going to get some rockets.”

High school football is in full swing, and it’s fun to sit in stands on a crisp autumn night and watch our kids play. It can also be source of some pretty funny comments by fans, especially mothers who may be watching only football games they’ll ever witness—or care to witness, for that matter.

For instance, during one recent game, our cheerleaders were standing with their backs to field, leading a cheer of “hold ‘em, hold ‘em!” when one of fathers in stands yelled out, “Girls! I think that’s illegal!”

He was right, of course, since our team happened to be on offense at time.

But real gem of that night was an observation made by halfback’s mother. After watching her son trying to run off-tackle twice in a row, only to get caught up in a tangled pile of bodies at line of scrimmage, she said, “You know, it seems to me they’d do a lot better if they wouldn’t all just smoosh together like that.”

Although her comment brought gales of laughter from everyone around her, and rest of night was punctuated by various people yelling “no smooshing!” toward players on field, I had to admit—the lady was right. Our plays would have gone better if everyone just stopped smooshing.