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Rethinking Garibaldi At Squamish – A 21st Century Perspective

"Everything is connected." -Zeno, Greek philosopher It made sense at the time. Back in the 1970s, B.C. was still on the edge of the world.
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"Everything is connected."

-Zeno, Greek philosopher

 

It made sense at the time. Back in the 1970s, B.C. was still on the edge of the world. Ski resorts in the province were mostly mom-&-pop enterprises that catered principally to local snow-eaters. The presumption that one could attract foreign visitors to these shores was still considered an exotic idea.

Enter the Commercial Alpine Ski Policy. Developed in large part by Whistler's own Al Raine, B.C.'s groundbreaking CASP was a work of genius. The concept was simple - in return for building lifts up the mountain, prospective ski resort developers would be compensated by the government with "free" Crown land that they could dispose of in any way they wished. In other words, the more people you got up the mountain, the more land you were given in the valley.

It was a deal made in snow-eater heaven. Or it looked that way at first. I mean, how could you not like the lifts-for-land concept if you were a keen skier? All it meant was more access to the mountain in exchange for valley development later.

But who was counting?

Things worked more or less as they should until about 1986. It took Joe Houssian and his Intrawest brethren to pick the pockets of the CASP concept. An astute businessman, the Vancouver-based developer figured it out right away. And his timing was impeccable. Exploiting the alpine policy in those years was like shooting fish in a barrel.

But the government wasn't complaining. After all, the churning stream of tax money coming from Whistler was a new source of revenue that the shekel-counters in Victoria had never even contemplated. So they just closed their eyes and let the flow go.

The result? Suddenly B.C. was the new kid on the destination skiing block. And everyone wanted to be the next Houssian. From Fernie to Golden, from Sun Peaks to Revelstoke, old resorts were refurbished and new ones were built from scratch. Overnight, the B.C. government decided it was in the destination tourism business. Didn't matter whether your "resort" was comprised of a McDonald's on one corner and a White Spot restaurant on the other, it was all good. Logging was dead. Fishing was dying fast. B.C. was going to get rich off tourism.

But all was not golden in ski resort land. Facing stagnant numbers, a horrifyingly low success rate with beginners, an iffy economy and an increasingly nervous international clientele, B.C.'s ambitious resort plans of the 1990s soon hit the proverbial wall.

Consider Whistler. With too many empty beds, too many struggling hotels and a business community desperate to find innovative ways to keep the money flow going, the province's diamond in the crown is struggling mightily to reinvent itself for the new century.

Doubt my words? Look around you this month. Anybody making any money at Whistler right now? Doesn't look all that sustainable at this point, does it...?

I couldn't help but reflect on all these issues when I read about the current status of the Garibaldi @ Squamish (GAS) project last week. As Yogi Berra once said: "It's deja-vu all over again..."

For those who've been living in a cave of late, the much-discussed GAS proposal envisions a $3 billion mountain resort being developed on 3,000-plus hectares of land on Brohm Ridge. At build-out, its proponents claim the place will rival Whistler for both experience and market share. Its official name, Garibaldi at Squamish All-Season Ski And Golf Resort, says it all. It wants to be the next big mountain success story.

Fair enough. I mean, developing a resort in the highlands above Howe Sound certainly has merit.  Given the spiffy new highway from the city and the burgeoning outdoor culture in Squamish - not to mention Vancouver's bustling urban youth looking for fresh recreational adventures - such a project is easily justified.

Indeed, developing a progressive new resort that reflects best 21st century environmental practices at the gateway Sea to Sky Country could be an amazingly effective initiative for everyone concerned. It's a no-brainer. If diversity is what we're looking for in the corridor, being able to provide different types of mountain experiences to locals and visitors alike is exactly what we should be planning.

In fact, the idea gets my imagination spinning. Think about it. Totally green. Totally self-contained. A new resort for the new century. Wouldn't that be fun? So park your skepticism for a moment and let me take you on a quick magic carpet ride:

We're in the year 2016. Powered by the legendary Squamish winds - whose head-of-the-Sound mills now create sustainable energy for much of the estuary - Sea to Sky country's newest resort has a surprisingly small infrastructural footprint and features a network of owner-operated auberges and inns of varying costs and qualities. Grey water is recycled and snowmaking is entirely fed from that source.

There are no cars here. Everyone (and everything) comes up from Squamish by train. "It's a little bit like going up to Wengen," says one longtime traveller. "You get a feeling you're leaving the real world behind. It's a fun adventure - even if it's just for a day."

As for the sliding product, it's like nothing else in the province. Intertwined with cross-country trails that meander in and out of the village (and become hiking trails in the summer), the lift network accesses different alpine "neighbourhoods" - from dedicated beginner area to dedicated backcountry zone - without interfering with each other. Relatively small owner-operated restaurants can be 'discovered' throughout the resort.

The big story of course, is the popular alpine route from here to Whistler. Linking into the older resort's near-mythic Spearhead Traverse, it offers a week-long, hut-to-hut high-mountain journey that rivals anything found in Europe.

So much for fantasy. Alas, the current GAS plans offer nothing so progressive. Can you imagine if one of Detroit's Big Three came out today with a car design straight from 1986? Not in a nostalgic way, mind you, but in a complete brain-dead, 'I didn't know the industry had changed' way. Know what I mean? They'd be laughed out of the market. Unfortunately that's exactly what we've got with the GAS proposal.

Talk about depressing. As for championing new environmental standards, forget about it. According to a recent Vancouver Sun report, "rather than provide information about water supply, fisheries impact, and design of large dams (to the British Columbia Environment Assessment Office), the proponents are asking that (B.C. Ministers) Penner and Kruger approve their project forthwith - suggesting that more detailed study will be undertaken at a later date." And this, after being asked for the same data in 1998, 2003 and 2007...

 

Don't they get it? We're not in the Wild West anymore.

But it gets even worse. For according to the experts, the project's proponents - the well-known Gaglardi and Aquilini families - don't even have the right location!

"I've worked on that project four times since 1980," sighs Ecosign's Paul Matthews. "And I have no qualms about saying it publicly. The place is a non-starter..."

Whistler's pre-eminent resort-design guru, Matthews is never one to hold back with his opinions. But in this case he's particularly trenchant.

"First of all, the location is all wrong. It's has a milk bottle climate," he says. "You're in clouds and fog all winter long. And it has totally lousy terrain for skiing." Another long sigh. "It's obviously a land grab. But that's weird too. I mean, it's a really shitty place for development."

Besides, he adds, just the cost of getting there will break the bank. "What with building a new road to get there, you've probably spent $100 million by the time you turn on the first light and flush the first toilet. How are you going to get your money back on that?"

Still, a conversation with Matthews always offers up a few new nuggets for consideration. "I don't know really know why they're so stuck on the GAS location," he tells me with a playful tone to his voice. " Especially when there are far better sites around for development." A pause. I prod him a little. He plays coy.

"Well, you know," he says finally. "I've been doing a little work with some First Nations clients." I can feel him smiling at the other end of the phone line. "You go up the Manquam River a little, and bear right." He takes a breath. "There's this beautiful 280 degree basin there. Over 40,000 acres of developable land at its base and 2,800 vertical feet of skiable terrain. Really beautiful stuff." He lets a beat pass. "Intriguing, isn't it?"

Stay tuned.