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Chasing a dream

It's an overlooked truism we live through history. Most of us have difficulty contemplating our day-to-day experiences being historical. But clearly, our current day-to-day experiences will be historical.
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Photo by Brad Kasselman / coastphoto.com

It's an overlooked truism we live through history. Most of us have difficulty contemplating our day-to-day experiences being historical. But clearly, our current day-to-day experiences will be historical. It's been a century since the last serious pandemic, the 1918 flu pandemic.

While we don't know how our current historical experience will play out, the single biggest lesson we can learn from that pandemic is this: Patience, grasshopper.

Everyone is getting antsy to move past this and get back to work, pick up the threads and proceed with our lives. The same sense of fatigue was present in 1918. And when restrictions were lifted, the second wave of flu set in and more people died than had succumbed during the initial round.

If you're wondering what that was like in one city, you can read Peter Hartlaub's sobering account in the San Francisco Chronicle here: https://www.sfchronicle.com/bayarea/article/San-Francisco-s-1918-Spanish-flu-debacle-A-15191518.php

And now, on to less weighty things. Last week's retelling of the development of 7th Heaven was kindly received. So let's time travel further back and consider the spark that gave birth to Whistler.

You've probably heard it was an Olympic dream that got Whistler started. True enough. But why Whistler? Why not some other snowy, mountainous place in B.C.? Let's be honest, more than one naysayer has pointed out Whistler's drawbacks: low elevation and challenging weather. And while both of those held true in 1960, they were the least of the challenges. To them you could add the fact that London Mountain, Whistler's former name, wasn't on anybody's radar screen. There was no real road up here from Squamish and not a lick of infrastructure existed to fuel the dream of an Olympic ski hill.

So how did it all come about?

Let's review. It was 1960. The Olympics were taking place in Squaw Valley. Dave Mathews was there covering the Olympics for CKNW, a Vancouver radio station. Erwin Swangard, newly appointed managing editor of the Vancouver Sun and formerly the sports editor was there, too. So was Sidney Dawes, Canada's International Olympic Committee representative.

Canadian skier Anne Heggtveit won gold in the women's slalom, triggering a brainwave for Mathews. "Swangard," he's reported to have said, according to Sandy Martin (who will be introduced shortly), "we've got to have the Olympics in Canada." Bringing Dawes into the conversation, Mathews worked to convince them both that Garibaldi Provincial Park would be a perfect place to host the Winter Games.

Harebrained? Perhaps. But it was the idea that culminated in Whistler being the mountain host town for the 2010 Olympics, 50 years later.

As was readily apparent even in 1960, the north-shore mountains around Vancouver were no place to hold Olympic-calibre alpine events. So the search was on. Vancouver in 1960 was far from a world-class city. While provincial backwater might be a bit harsh, one did not have to travel too far from Vancouver before one encountered Canadian wilderness. The search for an appropriate Olympic mountain was going to be an air search, not a ground search.

Mathews enlisted Glen McPherson, president of Okanagan Helicopters and, along with Dawes, began looking for an Olympic-worthy site. Since they needed skis on the ground as well as eyes in the sky, they enlisted Vancouver hotshot skiers Al Menzies, Bill Robinson and the aforementioned Sandy Martin.

Because there was already a lodge—Diamond Head Chalet—in the meadows of Diamond Head Mountain in Garibaldi Park, they tried it first. Sandy recalled having skied at Diamond Head previously.

"We used to take the Union Steamship up to Squamish and then Jeep up to the chalet. But this time, Glen dropped Al and me off on Diamond Head and we skied down. Al said he was sure glad I was there and I said the same thing to him because, frankly, neither of us knew exactly where we were. But we skied it."

Dawes wasn't convinced, though. He had misgivings about Diamond Head, given its proximity to the warming waters of Georgia Strait and its lack of development potential. The decision was made to continue the search further inland and to the north. After consulting topo maps, a foray was made to London Mountain.

It looked promising. So on March 3, 1960, Martin, Menzies and Robinson were dropped off on the upper slopes of what everyone thought would become the Olympic downhill run.

Sandy remembered, "There was a couple of thousand vertical feet between where we were and this gorgeous valley. The snow was, of course, untracked and I'll bet it was waist deep. There weren't any runs, no gladed paths to the bottom, no nothing. But it was a great day to ski so Al led us and we picked our way down to where Whistler Village would eventually be built."

Dawes recalled, "Our helicopter landed (after dropping off the skiers) at the 2,000-foot [610-metre] level, where the Olympic Village would be located. The snow, early in March, was still over six feet [1.8-m] deep. The runs down from the top of the mountain would have a 4,000-foot [1,219-m] vertical drop and we were satisfied that all events should be held in this one location. The slopes were beautifully timbered so that we should find lots of soil that can be graded and grassed to prevent erosion."

With a good report from the skiers, subsequent evaluations from other outside experts and the backing of the newly formed Garibaldi Olympic Development Association, an outrageous bid was made for London Mountain to be the site of the 1968 Winter Olympics. Remember, there wasn't as much as a road to the mountain, let alone a ski lift. The Canadian Olympic Committee, noting the fundamental shortfalls of the nascent site, backed Banff as the Canadian nominee. The 1968 Games were awarded to Grenoble, France.

The rest, as they say, is history.

As an aside, there was only one race ever run on Whistler Mountain that ended where the Olympic dreamers planned. In 1982, to showcase the opening of the new Whistler Village—on the site where Dawes had pictured his Olympic Village—organizers rejigged the by then time-tested downhill course that runs to Creekside.

Instead of turning at the bottom of Toilet Bowl and heading down the Weasel, the course veered right, following the newly cut Tokum down the north side of the mountain to Crabapple and into the Village. After training runs, Austrian racer, Harti Weirather, battling Steve Podborski for the overall World Cup title that year, dismissed the course as too flat and unchallenging and seemed to lose interest. Pod took the overall title that year though Swiss racer Peter Mueller won the race.

Play safe. Be patient. This, too, shall pass.