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Mirrors in the mountains

Seeking a retreat from the pressures of everyday life a Whistlerite finds new perspective in Blue River

By K-L Grant

The arrival of rain in mid-August this year stunted what had been a spectacular summer and brought with it an early start to the claustrophobic feeling that descends on Whistler in October and November. When a heavy ceiling of constant cloud obliterates Whistler’s soaring mountain peaks, it’s easy to sink into a depressed state of being. Energy and optimism, which are usually abundant in the mountains, are sapped by the grey skies and dampness that envelops everything.

Which is why when the chance to get out of town in early September presented itself I leapt at the opportunity. It was my turn to do what thousands of Whistler visitors do all the time, retreat from the chaos of everyday life. People come to Whistler seeking solitude in the silence of the mountains, away from the demands of children, spouses and work. Ironically, Whistler residents, most of whom juggle two or three jobs and two or three outdoor passions, must find their own place to retreat to, their own piece of wilderness in which to seek solitude.

Most Whistlerites escaping the valley in the fall seek out things rare in Whistler – sun, sand, surf. But I was seeking the inner silence of yoga, and didn’t have the finances to attend a retreat located in the sun, sand, and surf regions. To get away from the pressures and energy-sapping grey skies of Whistler I sought out the Mike Wiegele Heli Skiing Summer Yoga Retreat, held in Blue River. It’s about a seven-hour drive from Whistler and sounded perfect for my needs. It was inexpensive, included a road trip and gave me an opportunity to relieve the increasing stress of my personal life.

Dreary drizzle draped Whistler’s skyline on the afternoon of my departure, and it was weather that was to dog us all the way to Blue River. The forecast there was identical to Whistler – rain, rain and more rain. But, I consoled myself; I hadn’t come for the weather, I’d come for the yoga, and the escape.

It’s easy for us foreigners who come to Whistler to presume all of B.C. looks the same. In order to experience the diversity of B.C.’s landscape, road trips are a vital part of the Whistler experience. Nearer the end of the drive, as we led a rainstorm that kept perfect pace with us, two vibrant rainbows, visible from end to end, guided us for 45 minutes. It was a spectacular sight, and portended of good things to come.

After seven hours in a car, and on arrival at a yoga retreat, the natural thing to do was to leap out of the car and inhale deep mountain fresh breaths of air while doing some forward bends to loosen up tight hamstrings and lower backs. There is a quality in mountain air that distinguishes it from all other air, and with my eyes closed, breathing deep, I could have sworn the air tasted much like Whistler’s, only more so.

Blue River, at an altitude of 2,240 feet, is comparable to Whistler Village at 2,214 feet. But unlike Whistler, Blue River doesn’t have 2 million guests and the accompanying air pollution invading its quiet mountain valley every year. You are a little more aware of your surroundings; the pace is a little more relaxed – but a yoga retreat isn’t the place for laying around and doing nothing.

Our first class was scheduled for the afternoon of our arrival and Colleen Felgate, the Whistler yoga instructor who was to lead all 18 hours of yoga over the weekend, promised she’d take it easy on us. For those who still think yoga is just about stretching, 18 hours over two and a half days sounds dull, and easy. The weekend was neither. It was physically, mentally and emotionally one of the most intense experiences of my life. It was like running a marathon on Saturday, and going back to do it all again on Sunday.

But I didn’t know this yet. I was too busy thoroughly enjoying the first class, our only class for the day.

Emerging from the light, airy, windowed room into the clear mountain air to watch the sun set through the thinning clouds, I sighed deeply. This was why I had come on this retreat, to experience moments of contentment like this.

With some free time before dinner, I chose to explore my surroundings and get a feel for the Mike Wiegele Heli Skiing Resort. Consisting of an expansive collection of buildings that hug the shoreline of Lake Eleanor, the most obvious thing to do was walk the trail around the lake. But after crossing a man-made stream designed to give the lake trout somewhere to spawn, I came smack up against a sign that stopped me in my tracks. "All bears are dangerous. Stay in your chalet if bears are encountered." Underneath the sign was a picture of a grizzly – and I knew it was a grizzly, not a black bear, because I’ve seen The Edge. I watched that bear terrorize Anthony Hopkins and which ever Baldwin brother it was and I remember exactly how huge it was and what it could do with its claws and jaws. The thought of bumping into a black bear walking the Valley Trail in Whistler makes me nervous, but the thought of coming nose to nose with a grizzly was paralyzing. My stress level wasn’t coming down.

Later in the weekend, a local described coming across a mother grizzly and her two cubs ambling along the busy highway that runs through Blue River, and I realized that for Blue River locals grizzlies are treated and perceived in the same way we treat and perceive our black bear population. Their grizzlies aren’t hunting locals down any more than our black bears are biting tourist’s heads off.

Besides the grizzlies, one huge – literally huge – difference between Wiegele’s Resort and a comparable resort in Whistler, was space. It was everywhere. And it was wonderful. I spied resort staff using golf carts to get from building to building, and in our luxurious accommodation at the Bavaria House you could have slept 10 Aussies in the hot tub room alone.

But the hot tub room was just the beginning of it. The gigantic games room housed a pool table, a fooseball table and rows upon rows of skiing photos, a veritable history of the lodge. I’ve never been in a house in Whistler that has a games room; any spare room is always a bedroom. And with all women occupying the lodge, I’m sorry to report, the games room never got used. Not the pool table, not even the fooseball table. It seemed a sacrilegious waste, and the type of waste that would never be tolerated in Whistler.

But, the photos did provide an evening of entertainment, as, with wine glasses in hand, we curious women poured over the photos and tried to piece together the story of the couple who had owned the house before Mike Wiegele added it to his resort. The remains of a stripper pole in the front entrance, and signed photos of Miss Playboy Canada pointed to one type of past. Photos of Iris and Matteiu Maresch holidaying in sunny climes, waterskiing, skiing and living the high life, pointed to another type of past.

But the most pertinent point of comparison between Whistler and Blue River is the skiing. Blue River too is a skiing mecca with an international reputation and boasts a celebrity clientele that includes the world’s royalty. But there are no lifts in Blue River; it’s heli-skiing only, which means it’s the crème de la crème of B.C. skiing, at a price to match.

A chance meeting in the parking lot led to an interesting conversation with a local. Chris has lived in Blue River his whole life but has never once been heli-skiing. I wondered how many of those born and bred in Whistler have never been skiing. Perhaps an unfair comparison because of the incredible cost of heli-skiing – seven days costs upwards of $9,000, including luxurious accommodation and food. But Chris believes he will one day go heli-skiing. He shared memories of what he calls "the good old days," when a trip up into the mountains to go fishing at Myrtle Lake meant catching as many fish as you could carry, and smoking them before you left so you could carry more.

It seems no matter where you go, the past was always better than it is now, which, implies today will also be remembered fondly sometime in the future. For those in Whistler fond of recalling good old days, it might be wise to appreciate the days of now, as they too will one day be the "good old days."

My chance meeting with Chris underscored a major tenet of yoga practice, that of being fully in the now, of not letting the mind wander back to the past, or forward to the future. And starting with our 7 a.m. class on Saturday morning, we were given a chance to practice this principle, over and over, and over.

The popularity of yoga has had the unfortunate effect of watering down the calibre of instructors as weeklong courses issue "certificates" for anybody keen to claim they’re a yoga instructor. Colleen Felgate defies the trend. Not only has she studied in India, an incredibly arduous time when students are made to hold postures for as long as the teacher deems necessary, upward of half an hour sometimes, but she’s taught over a thousand hours in her time. She’s built a solid reputation in Whistler as a yoga teacher who intuitively knows what the students in her class need. But she wouldn’t necessarily call herself a teacher. "I really believe the student is his or her own teacher," says Felgate. "Only he or she can know what the body needs, I am only the guide."

Vancouver residents attending the course were wowed by her first class, and despite the intensity of the weekend they stuck it out and became putty in Colleen’s intuitive hands.

I was also impressed with the added bonus of a Thai Masseuse, Whistler local Kristin Nuttel, who was available (at extra cost) during classes to massage out sore muscles, move toxin build up and loosen adhesions. She also assisted in adjustments during classes. During a particular difficult and painful posture, Kristin was right there at my side, pressing her hands into and along my muscles, providing soothing pressure that allowed me to work deeper, but gentler into the posture.

But the weekend was not all about yoga. Evenings consisted of either a dinner at the friendly local restaurant, The Saddle Mountain Restaurant, or a self-cooked meal in our lodge. Wine flowed freely at either choice. After eight hours of yoga, nothing says balance like a glass or two of wine, and it helped the weekend feel more like a soothing holiday and less like boot camp. Even our instructor joined in, proving that life is about moderation and you can still be an amazing yogi while enjoying the sensual pleasures. Sitting on the balcony, admiring the mountainscape, glass of wine in hand, gossiping with women… it’s a scene played out every weekend in Whistler, but doing it in another environment somehow made it all the more special.

It was this change of environment that allowed me to step into the shoes of a mountain resort guest and understand how they feel when retreating from their everyday life to unwind in Whistler. Everywhere we went in Blue River, we were met with friendly, smiling, generous locals who made us feel welcome. I wondered if that was true of Whistler. The prices at the local grocery store and the restaurant were reasonable, and despite the incredible luxury of our accommodation, the cost of the retreat was very economical. I wondered how often Whistler guests felt the same way.

Our little mountain resort is an insular community, and when we get away, it’s not often we head to another mountain resort. But for those of us who live and work in Whistler, and care about our contribution to the community, going and being a guest elsewhere is the perfect way to gain an outside perspective on the role we play in Whistler. And this outside perspective might be just what we need so we can play our role better, whether it is as a property manager, bartender or heli-guide. Because while Whistler no doubt has superior terrain and infrastructure, in the end it is the people who truly make up a community.

The people of Blue River convinced me that if I ever had $10,000 to spend on a week-long ski holiday, Blue River would be the place I would come to. In the meantime, for a tiny fraction of the cost, I’ll be back for the third annual Mike Wiegele Yoga Retreat next year.



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