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After the Games – Decisions looming at Whistler

It's almost like a bad science fiction novel. Somehow we've blundered into this strange little bubble where time has stopped. Know what I mean? Nobody who wields power in Whistler wants to talk about anything beyond February 2010.
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It's almost like a bad science fiction novel. Somehow we've blundered into this strange little bubble where time has stopped. Know what I mean? Nobody who wields power in Whistler wants to talk about anything beyond February 2010. "We'll deal with that after the Games" is a common refrain these days from most everyone in the decision-making corridors of Sea to Sky.

And that's a huge mistake. Sure, the Winter Olympics are important. After all, most of the northern, mostly-white half of the globe will tune in this self-aggrandizing sports circus at some time during its two-week orgy. And we definitely have to do a good hosting job if we want to continue to attract new visitors to the Coast Mountains.

No question. The Games are important to our future. They offer a great opportunity to showcase our product; a wonderful chance to show what West Coast hospitality is all about. If we get the right weather between December and February and if the rain holds off and the sun shines, we'll get the kind of "free" press most other mountain resorts can only dream about. And yes, we'll never be the same after February 2010.

But as most Whistlerites are beginning to realize, the main party is going to be down south in Vancouver. As for locally-based events, residents will soon discover just how much these Games have become an insider's schmoozfest. In other words, forget the poor ticket-scrounging spectator (or the naïve local who thinks she'll get to participate in the celebrations). They're the last ones anybody is paying attention to. As an old colleague of mine put it a few years back: "he who has the most Olympic accreditations around his neck wins!"

As most of you know, I've been out of circulation for the last few months. With a murdered wife and a whole new life to build up out of the ruins of our old one, I've been more focused on family issues than on the political machinations of the IOC and VANOC and how Whistler taxpayers are getting the short end of the Olympic stick. Still, it's not like I haven't been paying attention. And what I see worries me.

And I'm not the only one. "Whistler is a community of scared people right now," says Peter Alder, my favourite Whistler elder. "Absolutely! People are afraid to speak out publicly about the important issues." He pauses, stops speaking for a moment. Smiles sadly. "It's a small place, you know. Everyone is beholden to someone in this village. It's understandable. But it's very, very dangerous to the community's future well-being..."

The valley's resident curmudgeon and a man who knows more about the global mountain resort business than just about anybody else in B.C., Alder is at that wonderful time in life where he just doesn't care what people think about him. "I don't go much in the village anymore," he continues in that Swiss-inflected drawl that is so much a part of him. "It's just too depressing. But my feeling - from watching how people behave and listening to what they have to say - is that this upcoming two-week event is overshadowing everything else at Whistler right now."

And then he drops his bomb. "This is not a time to be focused on one short-term event," he says. "If we want to thrive as a resort community we have some important long-term issues to address. And we have to address them soon - otherwise it will be too late." He sighs. "People are angry about the decisions being made at muni hall right now. They're frustrated. But they don't seem to know how to make their displeasure felt."

Like everyone else who has a brain, Alder is well aware of the economic imperatives facing Whistler in this Olympic year. Stuck between a recession and the ever-challenging vicissitudes of global climate change - and faced with a fast-aging baby-boom market (the financial driver of the ski and snowboard business for the last 30+ years) and no one in the rear-view mirror about to take up the slack - mountain resort communities around the world are in full crisis mode. "It's a tough time for everyone," he tells me. "So it would be naïve for us to blame all our problems on the Olympics." Another long pause. "Still, there's been a lot of negative feelings stirred up by the Games. If people knew what they know now a decade ago, I'm not sure we'd have backed the bid so enthusiastically." He chuckles, if only with a tinge of irony. "Unfortunately, we can't back down now. We're hosting the Games. Now we have to make the best of it..."

And after the Games? "I think we're in for a rude awakening," he says. "We need a real house cleaning here - at municipal hall, at Tourism Whistler, even at Whistler Blackcomb. The dearth of leadership here is staggering in its implications."

Enough said on that. So what's looming in Alder's crystal ball then? What's more important to the community's future well-being than the upcoming Olympic party? "I just don't think it's a good idea for Whistler Blackcomb to be owned by a bunch of smarty-pants businessmen out of New York City anymore," he says. "We've got to get the mountain back into local hands."

He smiles. "Why not," he says. "The timing is perfect. Besides, we already have all the mechanisms in place. And it's part of our story. After all, the Resort Municipality Act of 1975 was legislated for this very kind of eventuality."

Local ownership of Whistler Blackcomb? It's a bold proposal. And some would say an entirely foolish one. But it's a subject Alder is passionate about. And lest you think it's just an old timer's obsession, think again. "I may be old," he says, "but I'm not dead yet. I'm not waiting for someone else to take the idea and run with it. I'm going ahead with it myself." Already, the veteran mover-and-shaker has some reliable minds working with him on the project. "The key here is getting the right people involved," says Alder. "I mean, nobody even knows how much Whistler Blackcomb is worth right now. And working that out is just the first step in a very long and complex procedure ..."

Alder first brought up the subject almost three years ago. And though he has little of substance to mark his forward progress on the project yet, I know he has quietly (and sometimes not so quietly) been twisting arms and leveraging contacts to get the right people involved. It won't be easy to wrest the mountains from Fortress's grasp, Whistler Blackcomb is their prize possession. It's not only Fortress's cash cow, it's their branding vehicle, so they're not going to let it go cheaply.

So what? Should the fear of having to go through tough negotiations with hungry hedge fund pros negate the wonderful possibility of repatriating WB ownership back to Canada? Heck no, says Alder. "I've been in discussion with our mayor," he says. "And while he doesn't want to involve council in the Whistler-Blackcomb buyout, he'd like to find out exactly how much money generated here ends up in Victoria's coffers." Another guileless smile. "We need all the ammunition we can get," he adds. "We need to show just how valuable this place is to British Columbians." A pause. And another one of his pet peeves leaks out. "The sad thing is that we have nobody in Victoria who really understands what modern mountain tourism is all about..."

Provincial politics aside, what's the big deal about local ownership? Why does it loom so large on Alder's agenda? "I want Whistlerites to be able to control their own destinies," he argues. "I want our young people to feel involved in our future." And it's not such an outlandish idea, he insists. "It could easily happen," he tells me. And then, for just a second, he hesitates. "Well, maybe not so easily. But as I said - we already have the tools. All we need to do is convince the B.C. government to help us float a loan - something we've done successfully in the past. Then we borrow the money and make an offer for part of Whistler Blackcomb Limited Partnership. Not the whole thing - all we need is 30-35 per cent. It's a no-brainer!"

The wily old Swiss is no fool. He knows the chances of finding enough local money for a full buyout are slim at best. But there might be others willing to get involved. He mentions Nippon Cable. For those not up on their British Columbia mountain resort history, Nippon Cable, already has a sizeable financial stake in the province. And a fairly successful track record to boot - particularly on the local front. For along with its majority ownership of Sun Peaks, the Japanese giant still holds a 22 per cent ownership share in Whistler Blackcomb. "I'm sure that with the right business proposal," explains Alder, "they would certainly be open to discussing the idea."

Think about it. A local consortium - led by somebody with mountain-resort smarts, say Hugh Smythe for example (don't laugh, stranger things have happened) - hooks up with the folks at Nippon Cable, and with the help of the British Columbia government manages to put an acceptable offer before the Fortress boys. What an exciting prospect. What a fitting chapter to the original Whistler narrative.

But is it realistic?

"Most people love the idea," says Alder. "Still, the skeptics out there tell me it's all wishful thinking. My response? If we can't aim high, I tell them, if we can't dream, we'll never move forward." He smiles. Sighs one last time. "There's no question in my mind: if we want to be successful in the future, we can't continue on this same path we're on. If I die before this happens, that's okay. I'm an old man. But at least I got the ball rolling."