by The pristine carpet of fresh powder snow lay before me as I floated through the silent forest, its burnt trunks standing in stark contrast to the white mountainside of British Columbia.
My eyes picked gaps between the trunks and my turn sent out great waves of fluffy snow, which I blasted through like a wave marker shooting a tube. Suddenly, the sun broke through the clouds, turning snow to gold, and I could hear myself laughing with unbelieving joy, as my life passed without a reel around me.
Backcountry skiing on fresh powder feels like freedom. Our guide, Ian, had created a path ahead, through the Black Forest area on the mountain slopes above the Duncan River, in the Purcell Mountains, but we had space on the side of his tracks as our own playground.
Picking your own line, deciding when to turn and how to ski or snowboard through deep powder is very addictive. The best way to get continued access to these dream lines? To catch a lift from a helicopter.
But, heli-skiing is expensive – so much so that many skiers just discount the idea, when, for the same price, they could buy multiple ski holidays instead.
To find out if the experience was really worth it, I had returned to its source, the birthplace of heliskiing. British Columbia has Canada’s snowiest mountains, known for their fluffy, waist-deep powder. And the Purcells region of the Columbian Mountains is an adventure center like no other in the world, with cleft spiers ending in mile-long ski runs that wind over glaciers into steep, uninhabited valleys.
This terrain is suitable for heli-skiing, but so remote that it is the only practical way to access it – a combination that pioneered the sport to the remote granite Bugaboos in the mid-sixties. Lessons learned over the years have made the CMH Heli-Skiing company in Golden, British Columbia, one of the most knowledgeable on the planet. In fact, these areas are so remote that the names they bear have been given to them by the ski guides, and pilots, exploring them over the years.
CMH Purcell recently launched two- or three-day heli-scale packages to make this experience more accessible to the masses. On my trip, I fell in with skiers of various abilities and ages, including a group of skiers in their seventies who would normally stick to groomed piste – you don’t have to be an expert.
From the outside, the guides put safety first. Often, great adventure experiences add to the client, but as CMH founder and heli-skiing pioneer Hans Gmoser said: “In heli-skiing the customer is not the king. The leader is not a king. The mountain is the king!”
Get too far out of your guide’s orbit and you’re basically alone in a freezing desert – it’s a huge learning curve. Two hours of our first morning were spent practicing using our level beacons and radios, and learning about best practices in the mountains.
Our guide was friendly and patient, and we took pains not to rush. But you soon learn to listen when they speak and how to make friends when you come down. When one powder run through the snow-heavy green pines, I have to call my turn so my snow buddy, Ben, can keep me in sight – it’s great fun and adds to the sense of exploration and on friendship.
We boarded the Bell 212 helicopter on the concrete pad at the CMH’s Purcell lodge, but I found out firsthand how big a landing can be. A 15-20 minute ride took us out, far beyond civilization until you just see spire after spire of snow-capped rock.
We descended in a flash of white, as the skids of the machine fell softly down. Piling out of the chopper, we went to the little red flag buried in the snow and huddled together.
The engines roared, and as I watched the bird rise into the cobalt-blue sky, it felt almost like we were falling. When the snow storm settled, I saw that the shark’s tooth summit was a snowball turn to the right, beyond the snow that went down into the clouds – the CMH guides named this exposure Top of the World.
Our guides consistently demonstrated knowledge of the vast area and were able to weigh slope angles, avalanche danger, weather and seasonal snow conditions, to mitigate risks. This is how I found myself standing over a drop into one of the most immaculate open powder bowls I’ve ever seen, with no one else for miles around, but with full confidence that my guide had weighed the risks correct.
“We’ll meet in here,” Ian told me. “But the angle widens at the bottom, so give the skiers in front some space and make sure you keep your speed!” I carved down the steep drop, sending up waves of powder, but then straight-lined as the slope eased, picking up speed until the wind was howling in my ears. I felt like I was flying across the powder bowl – some rush!
During my three days with CMH, we did 8 to 10 runs of fresh powder per day, enabled by efficient guidance from Ian, Tom and Bryan. We passed through evergreen valleys, over Silent Glacier and down majestic crags like the Upper White Horn.
Being in this kind of landscape is a great privilege, and one that CMH recognizes comes with a cost, in terms of its carbon footprint. The operation has taken steps to track, reduce and offset the impact of jet fuel burning, and since the 1980s has also worked to use micro-hydropower in its remote lodges, picking up some environmental recognition. in the process.
Human stamina is also essential, and powder runs can demand a lot from your legs. Right when I started flagging, we’d stop for lunch in purpose-built mountain huts to drop in, for hot soup, sandwiches and refreshing tea.
Suitably refueled, the group would embark on another round of tree rows, weaving between the green branches, full of white, and, with each run, learning a little more about finding the gaps, and picking the best line to achieve the latter. feeling of flow.
By the end of my trip, I felt like I had packed a year’s worth of powder experience and education into three days. It was hard not to conclude that it was worth the cost. And my companions seemed to agree. At the end of one run, American businessman Allan said, in horrified tones: “This is second place in sex.”
Later, at the pick-up point, I looked around at the heavily forested terrain and realized that it would be a mission – requiring days of labor – to ski forever in this terrible part of the planet.
Fortunately, we had an angel on our shoulder – that distinctive, striking chop of an approaching helicopter got louder and I felt my ear pulse in time with the rotor’s downforce. Our pilot flew blindly, bringing the metal beast belly down right between the pile of skis and the huddled group of Gore-Tex clad skiers. I could almost reach out and touch the skid as it lowered in front of me.
Trust – in the backcountry of the Columbia Mountains, it is the most precious commodity.
Need to know
CMH Purcell
An ideal ratio of two guides to eight guests, and options for one, two or three-day trips make CMH Purcell (cmhheli.com), with its mountain home base, a flexible, accessible option that easily suits a wide range of skiing styles. . Costing from $2,115 CAD per day (£1,243), plus taxes, the price includes unlimited vertical meters of heli-skiing, snacks, lunch in the mountains, equipment, guidance and pre-ski training. Based six minutes from the town of Golden, British Columbia you can get to three flights from London to Calgary and then rent a car or book a CMH shuttle.
Timeline | History of Heli-skiing in the mountains of British Columbia
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1965 – CMH founder and helicopter skiing pioneer Hans Gmoser runs the first helicopter ski tour in the Bugaboos (after he and his friend Leo Grillmar emigrated from post-war Austria and began leading ski tours in British Columbia, in 1955)
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1968 – The first heli-ski lodge opens in the Bugaboos
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1970 – The first heli-skiing takes place in famous Revelstoke
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1975 – CMH’s Cariboo Lodge opens in the Cariboo Mountains for heli-skiing
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1982 – Bobbie Burns CMH Lodge, in the heart of the Purcell and Selkirk Mountains, opens for heli-skiing
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1989 – Gotach CMH, in the terrain between the Selkirk and Monashee Mountains, sees its first heli-skiing
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1990/1 – Galena and Adamat CMH Lodge (in the Selkirk Mountains) opened
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2008 – CMH Cariboos launches the first Steep Camp during periods of stable snow
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2023 – CMH Purcell offers its first one, two and three day heli-scale experiences
How to go heli-skiing for every budget
Heli-skiing is always a premium option, but there are layers you can cut your cloth accordingly.
CMH Small Group Experience, Canada
A smaller helicopter gives you a more vertical group size. Riding with four or five guests helps you move through the terrain faster and spend less time getting into the aircraft, allowing for more flexibility and adapting to the group’s common goals and pace. You can book individually and be matched with similar skiers and riders, or as a select group.
Price: From $1,631 CAD (£953) per day based on a four or five day trip
Where: CMH Adamants, CMH Kootenay, CMH Monashees
cmhheli.com
Powder South Heli-skiing, Chile
The five-star Puma Lodge in Chile’s Río Los Cipreses National Reserve is the base for light and dry powder heli-skiing in the Central Andes. This untouched region offers helicopter skiing terrain from the glaciated peaks of the Andes to steep ridges and gullies, with elevations from 2,500 to 4,500m. The guides make sure to find the best terrain to match each skier’s ability.
Price: From $8,500 (£6,781) per person for three days of heli-skiing
Location: Río Los Cipreses National Reserve, Chile
purepowder.com
CSE Heli-ski Méribel, France
The popular resort of Méribel in the French Alps makes helicopter entry at a more accessible price by offering a day of guided off-piste skiing at CSE, which ends with a helicopter pick-up at locations i. the Three Valleys and Italy. This allows you to find fresh tracks in other inaccessible parts of the Alps.
Price: From €1,070 (£918)
Location: Méribel, French Alps
ski-school-meribel-mottaret.com
