Changing tempo: settling into Fernie life

Life training as a ski instructor in Canada might be a bit different from what you're used to. From the switch in environment and new armada friends, to the powder-induced smiles and breakthrough moments. Elliot gives an insight into the Fernie way and change of pace in the mountains.

Through bleary eyes, the jetlagged clock on my battery-starved phone reads 11:47PM, and I think I’ve been travelling for something like two days. Sleepily swaying as our brave little bus trundles along a tiny mountain road, there’s God-knows how much snow just feet away from my frosted window. Kept conscious by the gentle snoring of some complete stranger on my shoulder, I grip my camera with tired fingers as I see the warm glow of a streetlight creep into view. It flashes past to reveal a wooden sign, half drowning in a snow drift. “Welcome to Fernie Alpine Resort”. The words I’d been waiting a decade for. Little did I know that in that bus, on that night, I was surrounded by some of the best friends I’d ever make. And that I’d just arrived home.

My name is Elliot Scarlett-Abbott, I’m a 20-year old skier visiting Fernie, BC for the Nonstop 11 week ski instructor program as part of my gap year, and I couldn’t be loving it more.

Every day is my favourite day

Monday used to be my least favourite day of the week. Now, it’s just the start of a week of learning to do what I love best. Waking up to a full continental breakfast, putting on toasty, dry ski boots and piling into a repurposed yellow school bus with dozens of other ski addicts is a pretty good way to kick off the day. The air is filled with tales of the night’s (usually ridiculous) snowfall, cheesy 80s rock from the Canadian radio overhead and the invigorating rush of mountain air blowing the scent of the driver’s coffee past our grinning, helmeted and occasionally hungover faces. We pile out at the hill to grab our skis and boards and head to meet this week’s instructor.

Boy, do we learn

Life on the hill goes like so: classes are up to 8 people strong and grouped by skill level so there’s no waiting around for classmates who don’t match your pace. Our instructors rotate between these groups each week; of whom there are racers, freestyle specialists and backcountry nuts of all shapes and sizes eager and waiting to show us their particular take on Canadian ski technique. They’re all briefed with the same objectives each morning and let free to teach it however they please. Powder days herald powder-focused lessons, icy mornings let us focus on groomed runs, and I haven’t met an instructor yet who isn’t skilled or dynamic enough to adapt their lessons to fit around the daily needs of the group. Sore legs, cold toes or hungry stomachs are all accounted for as soon as they become a problem, and the lesson content is constantly changing to fit our personal needs or wants. We might spend a whole day of freeriding with personal pointers to let us have fun “the Canadian way”, or we might spend a morning on the lower mountain absolutely perfecting our carving turns. Hell, I’ve spent an entire day trying to nail a 360 and come out of it with better mid-turn balance than I ever thought I’d have. The instructors here know how to make anything a learning exercise. And boy, do we learn. Progress is shown through the instructors’ video recordings of our technique, and my entire class are now unrecognisable from the ragtag group of tourist skiers we started out as.

Little did I know that in that bus, on that night, I was surrounded by some of the best friends I’d ever make. And that I’d just arrived home.

Our classroom is the mountain

So far, I’ve been taught by instructors younger than myself and by those who seem to have been born before skiing even existed, from every skiable country you could imagine. They run a careful balance between improving our own technique and showing us how to teach others in our future careers. I didn’t believe that there was no written work to be done, but our classroom really is the mountain. There’s nothing that we can’t be taught with boots on our feet, so our days are spent entirely on the snow. These instructors are so genuinely passionate about their jobs and enjoy every day as much as we do. After a week of learning and enjoying the mountain together, I’m even glad to call one or two of them friends.

The kindest people in the world

As for life away from coaching, our three days off per week are jam-packed with new adventures. We can, of course, ski any of these days we like, but most of us have been plenty busy with the local bars, shops and events. Never mind that we need to rest our bodies! Fernie is home to one of the most forthcoming and friendly communities I’ve ever been a part of. Dozens of family run businesses, from tuning shops to chocolatiers, are a 5-minute walk away on Fernie Avenue. I don’t mean to tread on any stereotypes, but the locals who run these shops really do feel like the kindest people in the world! They’re happy to help with anything you throw at them, whether asking about ski wax or your next night out. Perhaps it’s a result of growing up in the cold, but I’ve been amazed by how readily the locals will even help you get around. I’ve had shopping carried by people going my way, been given free truck rides to adjacent towns and taken so many directions from people it’s frankly shameful. Every day I feel less like a tourist and more like a resort regular. I think the accent’s starting to fade in, too…

They’re happy to help with anything you throw at them, whether asking about ski wax or your next night out.

Heli skiing to ice hockey

Fernie’s nightlife has also delivered. It’s by no means La Folie Douce, but there’s a great selection of bars and clubs across town that have catered to quiet nights, sports events (Superbowl mayhem) and wild birthday celebrations. Après on the ski hill is plentiful and as rowdy as you would expect, and there’s always the Red Tree Lodge’s bar if you’re looking for a quiet one to wind down before dinner. Nonstop’s MORE activity program has also kept us out of mischief for days on end, with anything from heli skiing trips to local ice hockey games peppering our days off with plenty of new experiences to try out. I’ll go deeper into this in a later post, but that’s actually all I have time for at the moment!

Between preparing for our level 1 instructor exams, making the most of big powder days and my growing addiction to local ice hockey games I seem to have wound up with my hands even fuller than I expected!

A final word. If today you gave me thirty seconds to show you what makes Nonstop special, I wouldn’t say a thing. I wouldn’t tell you about the amazing sorts of likeminded travellers you’ll meet, nor would I tell stories of the kind townsfolk and the breathtaking scenery you’ll discover. Neither tales of the ridiculous snow, the wild nights or the incredible feeling of escapism would do this place justice.

All I would show you is a video of a bus ride. A video of forty exhausted, sweaty strangers crammed amidst their clattering skis and boards in a clammy yellow school bus, heading home after a hard day of the best sport on Earth. Why? Because these people never fail to provide the most genuine and dumbfounded ear-to-ear grins I think I’ve ever seen. Those crazy, almost childlike smiles have us verging on laughter every single bus ride because we know that we’re all here doing something we all love. We’re so busy spinning tales of the day’s best runs, bails and sights that there’s no need to worry about anything that goes on outside the valley. We truly are on another world, and I love it.

Find your flow

Follow Elliot to the Canadian Rockies with our ski instructor course in Fernie // snowboard instructor course in Fernie.