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One year after - a Montreal journalist reflects on the Whistler Games

"What I remember most? That's easy: it was the BOOM of the avalanche cannons going off in the morning. Even though it was raining outside, I knew it was snowing like crazy up high.
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"What I remember most? That's easy: it was the BOOM of the avalanche cannons going off in the morning. Even though it was raining outside, I knew it was snowing like crazy up high. But I had to go to work, not knowing if the Olympic downhill would be run that day... I also remember coming home at night and being so envious of all the happy skiers I saw who had taken advantage of the day's fresh powder."

Simon Drouin, La Presse newspaper

 

 

He wanted to know how Whistler was faring. Had things gone well since the klieg lights were extinguished? Was the community thriving? Had the visitors returned? Was there a new post-Games buzz in the air? A new storyline?

Like many Canadian journalists this month, Simon Drouin was writing a piece on his Olympic experience. A veteran of five previous Games (he works for Montreal's venerable La Presse newspaper), Drouin had spent three weeks in Whistler last year covering the sliding events for his readers. And now he wanted to do an update. Could I help him out?

Sure, I said. So we talked.

Most everyone agreed, I told him, that Whistler's Olympic adventure had been a HUGE chapter in the resort's overall story. But that chapter was now over. What the community was wrestling with, I explained, was creating a dominant theme for the next chapter. And that was proving to be a much more complex task than anybody had anticipated.

Mountain town or resort-village-for-rent? Health, wellness and education centre or drink-and-party place? Sustained prosperity or boom-and-bust? These were today's issues, I told him. And how we addressed them, I concluded, would determine how Whistler would evolve in the 21st century.

But wait a minute, I thought. With all the navel-gazing and mutual back-patting going on in the valley this month, wouldn't it be interesting to add the impressions of a visiting journalist to the record? So I turned the tables on him. Would he mind telling me what his impressions were of 2010 and Whistler? The resulting conversation was fascinating.

A little background first. A ten-year veteran of the newspaper wars - "I started off covering Les Canadiens for La Presse and went from there," he tells me - the 35-year old Drouin is a keen skier who calls the Eastern Townships' Mont Sutton his home resort. "It's nothing like Whistler, of course," he explains. "But it's a really cool hill. Old school all the way, lots of glade skiing and lots of good skiers." Oh yeah, and downtown Montreal is only an hour away. Closer if you're in a hurry...

Drouin worked in Whistler before. "My first assignment here was the Snowboard World Championships, I think that was back in 2005," he recounts. "And I don't know if you remember - but it rained the whole time." He laughs. "I couldn't believe it. I watched the snowfield outside my hotel window melt and turn into a driving range."

Convinced that conditions couldn't be much better up high - "it was really ugly in the valley," he explains - the young journalist put his head down and focused on his work instead. "And then I heard back from a couple of buddies who had defied the rain and fog and gone skiing anyway." Another long stretch of laughter. "That's when I discovered the 'real Whistler.' That's when I realized that you never judge the skiing day there by what's happening in the valley..."

That was his first surprise. "I'm not a tree-hugging fanatic," he explains. "I mean I live in one of Canada's most urbanized landscapes. But your Whistler trees totally blew me away." A pause. "Maybe you guys don't notice it anymore. Maybe it's so common that they've become invisible. But your forests are unique. Like nowhere else in Canada."

He grabs a breath. "One of my fondest Olympic memories," he continues, "was going for morning runs around Lost Lake and up into the surrounding golf course. So beautiful. So wild. So quiet. So different than the village. Honestly, I just can't get enough of your trees. They make me realize how small I am. How insignificant..."

I can feel his enthusiasm over the phone line now. Palpable. Almost like he's living his visit all over again. "Take that off-piste mountain trek you took us on last year," he adds. "I'd never skied in forests like that before. Such magnificence. Such natural splendour. It was almost overwhelming, you know." He lets out an embarrassed chuckle "That was a really challenging run for me. Still, it ranks as one of my most memorable experiences from last year."

Okay. I admit it. I took Drouin and old friend Simon St-Arnaud (of Radio Canada fame) on a local's mountain-route that few visitors get to see normally. Call it my Olympic offering. My Games gift. Sounds like it made a difference, too.

"That's the kind of mountain experience," continues Drouin, "that really sets Whistler apart. Your forests. Your snow. Your monstrous trees. You don't get that in Colorado or Utah. And you certainly don't see it in the Alps." A beat. Two beats. "It really surprises me," he finally says, "that Whistler doesn't play that card more aggressively..."

 

Hmm. A Quebecois seduced by the Coast Mountains. I can't help but smile. So what about the village? Did that turn him on too?

Not so much, he says. "Too artificial for me. It's just like Tremblant that way. Not exactly Disney world, but still fake somehow." He pauses. Searches for the right words. "Put it this way - when you travel across the continent to come skiing in a new environment, you kind of hope to see an architecture that reflects a sense of that place." He stops speaking again. "I just don't get that with the Whistler Village. It doesn't quite connect to its surroundings."

What he really liked, he tells me, was the Callaghan Valley. "What a magical spot," he says. "What an incredible addition to the Whistler experience."

And then he has a question. "So when are they going to build a little village in the Callaghan?" he wants to know. "After all," he says, "It's a perfect opportunity to offset the artificiality of your main town. You could do something really soulful there."

I try to explain some of the local politics to him. "Dommage," he says. And then he offers what I think is a very reasonable scenario. "My mom, who is 60, would come here in a minute if she knew she could stay in the Callaghan. The noise and kafuffle of Whistler Village holds zero appeal to her. But staying deep in the forest like that? She'd go for sure - and she'd take all her Nordic skiing friends with her too!"

And what about Drouin himself? An accomplished weekend skier, he's the happy father of two children (with a third on the way). Both he and his spouse earn substantial salaries. He's now visited Whistler three times - all on his employer's nickel. So I ask him outright: would he ever consider bringing his family here for a holiday?

"I don't think so," he says. Regret edges every word. "It's just not in our budget. The big hotels, the high prices - it seems that Whistler developers only thought of one group when they built this place." And then he laughs. "And it wasn't us. When I first came here, I kept hoping I'd find a side street that led to a different kind of lodging experience. You know, like owner-operated auberges, maybe, or modest inns designed for clients with shallower pockets. But I soon found out that street doesn't exist at Whistler."

Has he heard about all the 'half-price' deals at Whistler this month? "You're kidding," he says. And then: "I don't know why, but it feels like Montréalais aren't on Whistler's radar. You don't really hear about Whistler here unless you go looking for it..."

And that really surprises me. Here's a huge gang of hardy outdoor folk - outgoing, fun and adventurous - with a distinguished skiing history and a genetic resistance to bad weather who, according to Drouin, are barely being targeted by Whistler marketers.

Could language and culture have something to do with it, I ask. He shrugs. "Could be," he says. "All I know is that unless they have friends and family who've been to Whistler, the bulk of Quebecois skiers and riders still don't 'get' this place. I don't know why." Another long beat. "Maybe you need to get more francophones in your marketing departments..."

We finally part company with a promise to stay in touch. But before he hangs up, Simon wants to make sure I know how deeply his Sea-to-Sky visits have touched him. "Nowhere is perfect," he concludes. "Still, for me, Whistler offers a unique and very exotic mountain experience. I really do hope to go back one day..."