At home: transforming into mountain locals

Once you’re in the groove of mountain living, you’ll find it hard to remember what you did before. It becomes all about the moment and the people you're with. In the latter stages of a season with Nonstop, you feel at home and start to think about where your life could take you. Elliot tells all about Fernie's community and his first teaching experience on our ‘Community Days’.

The phrase 'work hard, play hard' never really stuck with me. Sitting at a desk for eight hours a day and looking forward to frequenting the local watering hole didn’t really seem extreme enough to warrant its own little saying. CSIA level 2, on the other hand…

In the groove

We’re most definitely in the groove of things here in Fernie. With coursemates spreading themselves between the different course options Nonstop offers, everything’s starting to feel a whole lot more intense than the start of the season did, and that’s a fantastic thing. If we started the season as a tangled herd of giddy punters, we’ve now transformed into a network of genuine mountain locals and lovers, each with our own specialities, passions and interests.

Friends are heading off into snowpark courses, children’s teaching modules and ski touring programs and, in a rather terrifying manner, it’s starting to feel an awful lot like the beginnings of our instructor careers we’ve heard so much about. It feels... real. I never thought it could feel real but this insane adventure we’re all on is actually coming to a boil.

It’s starting to feel a lot like the beginnings of our instructor careers we’ve heard so much about.

I think I realised that at last week’s bonfire. Our faithful yellow bus had carried us out into the night, beers in our rucksacks and firewood in the aisle, for one of the most relaxing nights I’ve felt in Fernie so far. The music went on, a bonfire was built, and we huddled around its fiercely comforting flames as it hit me. I looked across the fire at the people I’d met in Calgary airport all that time ago. People I’d met in brand-new ski gear and fresh snow boots, wrapped up in Christmas-present jumpers with passports in their back pockets. Seeing these people now in their worn-in trainers and thrift-shop hoodies, bearing the goggle-tan of dozens of days on the hill we now know so well. That was the last time I felt like a foreigner on this trip.

Powder worship

Last weekend’s annual Griz Parade was a fantastic celebration of community, as the town gathered in honour of the legendary Fernie snow spirit, the ‘Griz’. Main Street was lined with food stalls, street performers and more townspeople than I could ever have thought would live in such a quiet little town as Fernie. Dozens of local businesses, communities and organisations drove their floats between the crowd in a procession of celebration of the season’s brilliant snow. We followed the parade through the town to find an incredible sense of community. Finally getting a chance to see a whole town coming together made me feel weirdly at home.

Level 2 on the horizon

Our Level 2 exams are fast approaching. It’s almost time to put all the training we’ve received into practice. Coursemates are now choosing to spend their days off perfecting their technique and teaching skills over freeriding.

I never expected to learn to snowboard this season. Hell, I’d probably have classified it as sacrilege a few months ago, but we’ve been trading days with the boarders so that we can practise teaching each other, ideal Level 2 preparation. Incredible, the friends you make and the opportunities you find on these trips. Chances most people would kill for can fall into your lap over a lift ride, a bar table or a hitch-ride home.

Community days

And how could I forget? Last weekend heralded my first ever day of “proper” ski instruction. We’ve been given the opportunity to volunteer at local “community days”; providing instruction to locals of all ilks for no charge, and giving us that all-valuable teaching experience. There’s nothing like the real deal.

It’s a great way to give back to the community that’s looked after us this season and was honestly one of the most personally rewarding days I’ve ever had the pleasure of experiencing. I was incredibly nervous that I wouldn’t enjoy teaching strangers before coming on this trip, but my mistake was not realising that after a few minutes on snow together, you’re not strangers anymore.

I will never forget the morning’s 1-on-1 lesson guiding an incredibly nervous 8-year old through her first ever time on snow. If I never got the chance to teach anyone again, the smile that grew across her face when she did her first snow-plough stop, her first turn, and watching her show it off to her ski-racing father at the end of the session is something I will never forget. I would be satisfied at this, knowing that I had welcomed someone to the greatest sport in the world, and perhaps started her own career on snow just as someone did to me so long ago. It’s enough. It’s really enough. If I can even get enough.

I was incredibly nervous that I wouldn’t enjoy teaching strangers before coming on this trip, but my mistake was not realising that after a few minutes on snow together, you’re not strangers anymore.

The 'Fernie Bubble'

All of this aside, it’s strange to have less than a month left with Nonstop. After being in the “Fernie Bubble” for so long, not worrying about anything outside of the valley, I feel apprehensive of the day that I’ll move on to the next adventure.

The weather’s really heating up now; cold beer was actually a relief from the tropical 8’C we found ourselves laying in at apres. My face is burnt to a crisp, and the snow is getting soft under our feet. This sounds tragic, I know, but after all the ski improvement we’ve gone through over the past two months I’m actually loving the moments of slush-skiing we get towards the end of our days now. Not to say the powder’s let up, but ripping across the resort in a thermal top, sunglasses and race skis is on-par with most of the incredible powder days we’ve had this year. It’s a different kind of love, sure, but I’m still to have a bad day on this mountain.

Settled

In short, I think I’m settled in Fernie now. I don’t remember much of the year preceding this trip, nor can I say much for what’ll happen when it’s over, but I’m beginning to realise just how far I’ve come since those first tentative few days. Joking around with the lifties you meet on nights out, locals recognising you in the supermarket, these little quirks I never expected to get from such a structured experience as I thought Nonstop was are the most valuable things I think I’m going to take away from this trip.

The fear of nostalgia is starting to creep in, for sure, but if it wants to overtake the laughter we’ve shared, the horrible suntan I’ve gotten and the little Canadianisms that are steadily creeping into my speech; it can think again, eh?

your turn?

Discover our ski instructor courses // snowboard instructor courses and it could be you redefining what it means to 'work hard, play hard'. Read more about Elliot's journey: settling into Fernie life and passing the level 1 exam.