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Dave Williamson - just another pillar in the community

"Patience and perseverance have a magical effect before which difficulties disappear and obstacles vanish." John Quincy Adams Whistler is a funny town. Almost a paradox. Know what I mean? It's become the mountain-play capital of Canada.

"Patience and perseverance have a magical effect before which difficulties disappear and obstacles vanish."

John Quincy Adams

Whistler is a funny town. Almost a paradox. Know what I mean? It's become the mountain-play capital of Canada. A post-modern Shangri La for globetrotting thrill-seekers with deep pockets and phat skis. It's the Las Vegas of the outdoor sports world. A resort-cum-amusement-park that people now hit once and tick off their bucket list.

Yet it's a community too. A place where mums and dads raise kids and harbour hopes for a sane and graceful future. This is the Whistler behind THE WHISTLER - a village/tribe comprised of intelligent, outgoing, outdoorsy people who are actively maintaining (and often promoting) an intelligent, outgoing outdoorsy lifestyle. To be a Whistlerite means something.

Or so I've been arguing in these pages for the last few years...

The people who make up this community are in turn outspoken, inspiring, eccentric, creative, annoying, courageous, outrageous - and still, in a few cases - bold. But no matter how they come across - old school grunge or nouveau boho - there's no mistaking a Whistlerite for somebody else. You see, it's not just the mountains and snow that made this place famous. It's the way locals have represented over the years.

Alas, we're fast approaching a tipping point at Whistler. Unless we pull up our socks soon, we're going to lose a lot of very good people. Just sayin'...

But where was I? Dave Williamson. Oh yeah. To me it's obvious. If ever there was one person who embodied the very essence of what it means to be a Whistlerite , my nod would have to go to that hirsute, perma-smiling guy we used to call Wolfie (don't worry, we'll get back to his moniker later)...

There are other Whistlerites who could fit the bill. But few have their story threads more tightly woven into the Whistler tapestry than does Williamson. From the moment he arrived here in 1980, he was all in. Body and soul and mind and heart. And it's been that way ever since.

So where do I start? Smart. Funny. Strong. Keen for any adventure. Multi-sport athlete too: skier, snowboarder, mountain biker, born-again surfer. But balanced, you know, really balanced. He's also a devoted (and tireless) community volunteer. An involved parent. A committed environmentalist. Innovative (and successful!) entrepreneur as well.

Williamson, in fact, is a pioneer in his field. A living proof that "focused diversity" (ie. the development of small businesses with mountain-resort-related competencies) has a real future in this valley.

Ever heard of the Cascade Environmental Resource Group? You should. That's his Function-based consulting business. Along with partner Mike Nelson, Dave oversees a loose-knit team of environmental-science professionals - biologists, researchers, GIS technicians - who provide a range of sophisticated services (as his website proclaims) "to meet the needs of government agencies, recreation and resort operators, natural resource companies, land developers, and public stakeholder groups..."

The company's clients in the region are legion - from Whistler-Blackcomb and Intrawest to VANOC and the RMOW. Oh yeah, and just about every heli-ski and snowmobile-tour operator in Sea-to-Sky. Indeed, since the company was launched in 1991, there are few projects in this valley that have not required (in some way or other) Cascade's input.

Talk about timing. Environmental reviews? Before 1990 that was wishful thinking in B.C. But with the coming of the NDP early in the decade came a whole new scientific protocol for environmental studies. And Dave suddenly found himself slap dab in the middle of the consulting action.

But wait. It's not like Williamson had been sitting around twiddling his thumbs before. I mean, this is a guy who decided to major in environmental studies long before studying the environment was considered a "groovy" subject.

"I guess I was always a non-conformist," admits the 54-year old. "But the subject had always fascinated me. It was something different." He smiles. "Luckily I found this unique, progressive program at the University of Waterloo."

Yet another refugee from Southern Ontario? "Yep," he says with a deep-throated laugh. "Born and raised there. Grew up in Pickering - in clear view of the Pickering Nuclear Power Plant. Skied at this tiny ski hill called Dagmar." More laughter. "My parents didn't ski," he says, "but my mom, being Scandinavian, decided it was in our blood." It was his mom he continues, who took it upon herself to make sure her five kids learned to ski. And for Dave, that was a life-changing mission.

"It clicked for me right from the get-go," says Williamson. "Skiing was a skills-based thing - and I really like that. I loved flying down the hill on the edge of control. It got my juices going..." There were other sports in young Dave's life - baseball, a bit of hockey, some soccer - but none touched skiing. "That was my sport in high school," he says. "For sure." And chuckles again. "But in Ontario, that can be a bit of a challenge..."

The biggest challenge though, was finding money for gear. "As you know, it was an era of huge change in the ski industry," he says. "Skis went from wood to fiberglass and metal; boots went from leather and lace to plastic and buckles. And all this new fancy stuff was ex-pen-si-ve." He smiles ruefully. "Seems like I was constantly chasing gear."

He arrived at Waterloo in the mid 1970s. "I think we were just the third graduating class in the program and we were definitely the "hippies" on campus," he says of himself and his fellow environmentalists. And laughs some more. "Waterloo has this huge engineering faculty and the students over there hated us..." He lets his words hang for a breath. "Which is ironic, you know. Because most ES graduates work for engineering companies when they come out of school. That's where you get your early experience."

And given the different philosophies at play, that experience can certainly be a startling one. "It blew my mind as a young professional to see these big oil exploration companies still balking at cleaning up their sites in the Arctic because, as they said, 'nobody else is going to come up here.'" He shakes his head. "Just shows how far we've come...."

But back to skiing. It was a fellow Waterloo student - John Genest - who first brought Whistler to Williamson's attention. "We were through with Ontario skiing," he admits. "We were already planning on heading to Banff during a co-op work term. But Genest suggested that Whistler might be a better choice."

Being students of the environment, Williamson's gang was more than familiar with topographic maps. And given that their department was rich in such resources...

"So we pulled out the appropriate maps and had a look." He smiles. "It seemed interesting."

Williamson and a friend made it to Banff in the fall of 1980. "And everyone said: 'Don't go to Whistler. It always rains.'" He laughs. "But we went anyways."

He never regretted that decision. "Here was this cool mountain hangout filled with a whole lot of can-do people. I remember thinking back then: 'There's a hundred reasons why Whistler shouldn't take off. But the people here are still going to make it happen.' By the time spring came, I was hooked." So he headed home, finished school, met his future wife, and rushed straight back.

Dave came back to Whistler to ski. That's all he cared about - snow and vertical and more snow and more vertical. But he had to eat. "So I decided to apply to the mountain for work as a liftie." He pauses for a breath. His eyes fill with humour. "I walked into the Whistler Mountain 'offices' at Creekside. And Doug Walsh was there. I said to him 'I want a job.' He looked up from his work, nodded and said: 'Great. When can you start?'"

And thus began his ten-year adventure as a member of the Whistler Mountain operations staff. "I was a liftie at first," he recounts, "but then they moved me to maintenance - and that's the stuff that got me really hooked." By 1984 he'd joined Rod Macleod's Weasel Worker crew to help prepare the mountain for its World Cup downhill events. He clicked so well with the team that Macleod invited him to join his summer trail crew.

"We were doing really cool stuff," he says. "You know, like the time that [then mountain manager] Sandy Boyd came up to us and asked: 'Do you think we can make snow on this mountain?  Everybody says we can't...' And we showed him how we could do it. And then helped make it happen!" A hint of pride sneaks into his voice. "I was there at every step," he says. "I advised Rod on what systems to buy and where to lay the pipes."

Next week: Wolfie leaves Whistler Mtn, launches his business, falls in love with surfing, and rides the Olympic wave.