Skip to content
Join our Newsletter

Let's make it snow

Over 75 million gallons (284 million litres) of artificial snow hit the slopes of whistler blackcomb
news_environment4
fire up your guns Snowguns have played an essential role in getting Whistler and Blackcomb ready for the winter season ahead. Photo BY vince shuley

If it snows, they will come. This is the mantra of Whistler and many other ski towns in the early stages of every winter. Snow is our lifeblood, those tiny flakes of crystalline water-ice fuel our economy while providing us with a surface to enjoy turning our boards on. It's the reason why many of us visit Whistler and why some of us never leave.

But Mother Nature can be fickle sometimes, and in her wisdom she will occasionally remind us that we are never in control of the weather. Whistler rarely sees a "dry" season (the last three winters in a row have all been record breaking) due to our position in the Pacific Ranges, which lend themselves to frequent storms rolling in off the Gulf of Alaska. But for a ski resort the scale of Whistler Blackcomb (WB), snow must be on the ground for opening day be it natural or manufactured.

Pique headed out on the slopes with Dave Fortier, WB's snowmaking assistant manager and seven-year veteran in the department, recently to find out more about how the snow is made. As the work truck rumbles up the summer access road on Whistler Mountain, Fortier explains that the method of making artificial snow basically replicates some of what happens naturally in the clouds (see feature page 64 for the science behind snow). Water, pumped or otherwise gravity fed from massive reservoirs in the alpine, is dispersed at high pressure through an array of very fine nozzles on the snow gun. A fan or high pressure air source shoots these particles high into the air, allowing enough time for the particles to nucleate and crystallize into snowflakes before falling to the ground as white powder.

"You can start making snow at -2 (degrees Celsius), there's no limit, the colder it gets the more you can maximize the CFM (cubic feet of snow per minute)," says Fortier.

"But when you pass -15C you start having to troubleshoot problems."

Those problems arise mostly out of ice build up in areas of flowing water or air. The wind, as well as the cold, can make life more difficult for the 45 staff in the snowmaking department. With a slight change in wind speed or direction, the valuable plume of white powder can blow into the trees making it difficult to recover.

Fortier pulls the truck over next at the base of the Big Red Express, the whir and hiss of around a half dozen snow guns is clear evidence that operations are in full swing to get this mountain open on time. The temperature on this trip is around -8C with clear skies, the perfect conditions for maximum snow output. I'm now in the less comfortable pillion seat on the back of a snowmobile as Fortier pilots the vehicle through the powder clouds of another dozen snow guns. Production is at maximum on Pony Trail, a green run that saw lots of skier traffic on opening day.

"The best scenario for us is when it doesn't warm up too much," says Fortier as he dismounts the snowmobile and checks the status of one of the running snow guns.

"With every half degree (change in temperature) you have to readjust everything if you want to keep the quality consistent." He points to the flakes hitting his jacket, firmly stuck to the water-repelling fabric.

"We want the sticky snow right now to build a firm base on the ground. As we get closer to opening we dry the snow out so it's nicer for people to ski on and doesn't stick to your goggles."

Back on the snowmobile, my freezing hands clench more tightly on the passenger handles as Fortier navigates the two metre high mounds of snow built up after three days and nights of operating the guns at full power.

We pull over on Upper Whiskey Jack, Fortier has noticed a gun is struggling to project its payload more than a couple of metres. The green run currently resembles a terrain park with enormous mounds of snow spaced out between the Roundhouse and the Chic Pea. Fortier shuts down the gun and the culprit is revealed — the wind has blown snow back into the air intake screen creating a small wall of ice. With the spark from a cigarette lighter Fortier kindles the propane "tiger" torch (there is one on every fan/nozzle snowgun) and casually thaws the $40,000 machine with the orange flame.

"You can see the snow here is too wet," says Fortier, gesturing towards the closest side of the pile of snow this gun has been producing for the last few hours. The handful in my glove globs together like mashed potato.

"With the intake getting blocked with swirling snow, the snow being made doesn't have enough time to crystallize in the air. The quality is degrading. We're not getting the snow we need and wasting some power. This is why we have to have continual checks and adjustments during the shift."

On the way back down several more stops are made and Fortier fields at least three phone calls. It appears it doesn't have to be colder than -15C for the troubleshooting part of his job to kick in. Back at the truck we take off our helmets, Fortier sporting several long icicles dangling from his beard. Amongst the ice a big smile that assures me that despite the daily complications Fortier has to deal with, he loves his job.

Both Whistler and Blackcomb mountains are now open for the season to the delight of those who can't wait to take those first turns. The off-piste runs are now getting a healthy dose of natural snow, but thanks to Fortier and his black-jacketed cadre, the open groomed runs are as white as mid-winter.