"The community stagnates without the impulse of the individual. The impulse dies away without the sympathy of the community."
- American author/philosopher William James
Whistler's 2011 municipal election was all about change. Intrawest was gone, the IOC's five-ring circus had moved on and the tourism economy had tanked big time. So now what? The mood in the valley was far from conciliatory. Anger. Frustration. Impatience. Rage even. It was clear from day one of the campaign, that local taxpayers were dissatisfied with the status quo. The decision-makers had screwed up, was the general consensus. Heads were going to roll...
The result? Both council and the mayor were sent packing and a whole new crew was brought in to (as one local pundit put it) "clean up the outgoing gang's mess." It was a first for Whistler. Never in its short history had the community voted for such a wholesale change of politicians. Never had it gambled so much on a clean slate. And yet everybody seemed quite happy with the outcome.
But hang on a minute. Was previous council really as incompetent as they were portrayed in that election? Were they really the bad guys in this narrative? In retrospect, it seems not. Indeed, according to some of its members, the 2008 council accomplished exactly what they'd challenged each other to do on their very first day in office: to leave the place in better condition than it was when they first got there.
Chris Quinlan was one of those council-members. A Whistlerite since 1991, Quinlan exudes a kind of jovial bonhomie that could easily be dismissed as fake... if it weren't so heart-felt. Simply put: he's a nice guy. His smile is real. His courtesy is authentic. And his passion for the place genuine. Which doesn't mean he's a pushover.
Entrepreneur, mentor, community volunteer, actor, storyteller, philosopher — Chris Quinlan is many things. But he ain't stupid. "I was having a burger with a bunch of the boys the other night," he starts. "And the subject turned to local politics. Somebody mentioned how quiet things had gotten at muni hall in recent months." He stops for a beat. Takes a long breath. "And I just had to laugh. You see, the reason there's no controversy at the RMOW right now is pretty simple. The new council was set up for success!"
We'll get back to that. But first a little background. Did you know that Chris Quinlan was once a long-haired, red-necked Vancouver Island logger? Really. "If somebody had told me 25 years ago that I would be living in Whistler," he says, "managing the local Farmers' Market and worrying about the environment (Chris is a current member of the board for the Centre For Sustainability), I would have laughed in their face. That just wasn't who I was back then."
Chris was born in Edmonton but spent much of his youth on Vancouver Island's east coast. "My stepfather ran a logging operation," he continues. "So I kind of drifted in that direction." There was much to learn in the woods, and Quinlan was a quick study. Still, there were dangers. "You were expected to pick up your craft on the job," he adds. And laughs. "I remember, for example, learning how to cut down trees. I spent a month apprenticing to a pro faller. Mostly I just carried his stuff — you know, axe, chainsaw, oil, gas, sharpening files, sundry tools — and watched. It took a long time before he trusted me enough to let me use a chainsaw to fall my own tree." He lets a beat go by. "That taught me a lot, you know. I expected to just go in and start mowing down trees. But I learned so much during the time I followed that old faller. It probably saved my life."
Logging was lucrative in those days. It made young men independent quickly. But Quinlan wasn't convinced there was a long-term future in it for him. "You could say I migrated over to the restaurant business," he says. "Turns out it really suited my skills. And then I started hearing about this place called Whistler. My bosses would go up there regularly to sample the different spots — Umberto's was considered the standard-bearer back then — and then they'd return to the Island and rave about the place. The restaurants. The nightclubs. The lifestyle!" A pause. "Well, that sparked my curiosity. So I decided to check out the place for myself.'"
Chris arrived in Whistler in the fall of 1991. And promptly got a job as a bus driver. "It was the only job I could get at the time." But that was OK. For the place was everything the 28-year old had hoped it would be. "I came for the restaurant business," he says. "But I stayed because of the people."
He also re-discovered sliding on snow. "I wasn't a real skier, you know. I'd done it a few times with the school... outings to Mt. Washington and Forbidden Plateau and such. But nothing I'd seen previously had prepared me for the grandeur of these mountains."
That winter, he got a job bartending at Johnny's Grill for Blackcomb Mountain. "I made sure to get the late shift as often as I could," he confides. "That way, I could ski all day until it was time to work." He lets out a bark of laughter. "I skied, literally, every day I could that year. I really got into it."
Still, Chris wasn't entirely sold on mountain life. "I went back to Nanaimo that spring to help run a buddy's restaurant." But there was something about Whistler that wouldn't let go. As he discovered when he visited the valley with his girlfriend later that summer. "We'd go up the mountain. Have nice picnics on the high slopes. That kind of thing." It was on one of those outings — while they were downloading on Blackcomb in fact — that the realization suddenly hit him. "It just came to me," he says. "I knew right then and there that Whistler was the place I wanted to call home." He returned to Vancouver Island, packed up his bags and moved back to the mountains. He never left again.
To say that Chris Quinlan has given his heart and soul to Whistler since then is like saying it snows some in the Coast Mountains. The guy is fully committed. And his decision to enter politics for the 2008 municipal elections was certainly not a frivolous one. Chris really believed he could help move the community forward.
And yet, despite the best of intentions, he was unceremoniously booted out of office three years later, tarred with the same brush that painted the incumbent mayor and his fellow councillors. "Becoming a politician involves a very steep learning curve," he says. "And my time in office taught me a lot. First off, I learned I didn't know as much as I thought I did." He laughs. "I also learned how fortunate we are to live where we do. And then there's all the technical stuff — most important was learning how to look at something as a whole, rather than just focusing on parts of the whole." He lets a beat go by. "Finally, there was the amazing experience of being on council during the Olympics — to act as official host to the world... I was so incredibly humbled to be able to represent Whistler on such an occasion."
Did he learn anything about his community along the way? "It's all about the people," he says. "We have an amazing group of individuals living in this valley. And then of course, there's our natural environment. I know that sounds simplistic, but it's the biggest asset we have. Third, for me, is our history — how tightly tied people here are to this environment. And then of course, there's our way of life. We don't just have A-type personalities at Whistler. We have Double A-Types! We're the ultimate go-for-it community. Which brings me to my last point: wealth is not so much measured in dollars at Whistler as it is in quality of life." Another pause. Another long breath. More laughter. And then he gets serious again. "We just have to make sure that that element becomes a big part of the story we tell the world."
And what about current council? What about his earlier comments that its members were set up for success? "As dysfunctional as our council appeared to be," he starts, "there were a few of us who sacrificed a lot of time and effort to get the muni's affairs back on track... knowing full well that it might cost us the election." He stops. Sighs. "When you don't make responsible choices — when you make decisions for the sole reason of getting re-elected — that's when you get irresponsible government."
Quinlan is not the kind of man to spew sour grapes. Still, he feels that the last election was dominated by a less-than-honest discourse. "I believe we definitely left the muni's affairs better than when we found them. We successfully steered the community through the biggest event in its history (the Olympic Games) and hired a firecracker of a new CAO (Mike Furey). Financially, Whistler was in the best position of any municipality in B.C. Our accounting was solid, our reserves were back where they needed to be and our financial plan was sustainable." He stops. Shrugs. "We were far from perfect but we also did all the heavy lifting." Then he smiles. "It's funny, you know, this is the first time I've said that publicly..."
A couple of beats go by. "I'm really proud of the work we did during our time in office," he says. "But I'm also really proud of this town. And that's the bottom line. Whistler is my home. Frankly, I wouldn't live anywhere else."
