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Passion, wit and expertise — Murray Camps celebrate 30 years of skiing excellence

"Nobody grows old merely by living a number of years. We grow old by deserting our ideals. Years may wrinkle the skin but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul." - American Poet Samuel Ullman It's the longest-running ski program at Whistler.
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"Nobody grows old merely by living a number of years. We grow old by deserting our ideals. Years may wrinkle the skin but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul."

- American Poet Samuel Ullman

It's the longest-running ski program at Whistler. Back when it was launched in 1983, the resort was a brash adolescent. Blackcomb Mountain had just opened its doors. The village was more work-site than shopping mall. Snowboarding, of course, was still a work in progress. People rode on very long, very skinny skis. And the Crazy Canucks had just scored four straight victories at the fabled Hahnenkamm downhill.

Ski racing was big in Whistler back then. Many of the young adults who had migrated here had grown up smacking bamboo — in Quebec, Southern Ontario, Halifax, Thunder Bay, even Calgary. Following the fortunes of Canada's dashing young men in their canary-yellow suits and red maple leafs was considered de rigueur by valley connoisseurs.

One of the most loved of these downhillers was Dave Murray. A relative latecomer to the sport, the WMSC alumnus perfectly embodied the risk-taking, fun-loving culture just then establishing itself in the Whistler Valley. Tall and broad-shouldered — blond, blued-eyed and square of chin — Murray was about as chill a character as you'd ever want to meet. And he was a truly loyal friend. Unpretentious to the extreme, and a beast for hard work, the guy they called "Mur" never took his ski racing good fortune for granted. Nor did he ever miss a chance to sing the praises of his Coast Mountain home.

Like so many of his West Coast peers, Murray was a skier first... and a racer next. Don't get me wrong. The guy committed himself entirely to his racing career during his years on the White Circus. But in his heart — in the deepest part of him — Dave was always a ski bum. He often said that getting up on the mountain for a day of high-speed powder turns always reminded him why he got involved with the sport in the first place.

The Canadian squad's acknowledged leader during his decade-long stint with the Team, Murray was never a big talker. He preferred to lead by example. So when he retired in 1983 and was appointed Director of Skiing at Whistler Mountain, he immediately set about putting into play a plan he'd been thinking about for years.

Three elements to remember here. The first thing to keep in mind is the fierce rivalry that was growing between upstart Blackcomb and old school Whistler. In those early years — long before the amalgamation of the two outfits — the mountains' respective senior management teams were obsessed (and that's not too strong a word for it) with one-upping their cross-valley competitor. Any advantage gained over the other was seen as a win.

The second thing to keep in mind is that sports programs for adults were few and far between thirty years ago. Skiing — and more specifically ski racing — was no different in that respect. Once you retired from your club's junior racing program, that was pretty much it for your racing career. Other than attending a conventional ski school class, few other means existed for adult skiers to improve their on-hill moves. It was a situation begging for a change.

Finally, it's important to recall that the boomers were maturing — by this point many were in their 30s. They had money. They had time. And they refused to "grow up" like their parents' generation had. Whether it was hockey or swimming, marathon running or even ski racing, boomers wanted to continue performing at a high level in their chosen activity. In fact, they were completely re-inventing the sports-participation model. And they needed expert coaches to help them reach their lofty goals.

And maybe there's a fourth element too. For with this new sports performance urge among the bulge of thirty something adults also came a craving for a fun, casual ambiance in which to practice and race. In other words, they wanted highballs with their high-tech coaching. They wanted laughter and friendship and connections... as well as technique tips.

Murray understood all this. More importantly, he truly believed in the salutary elements of sliding on snow. He wanted to share his own love for the sport. Wanted people to feel — really feel — what the buzz of flying without wings was all about. Besides, he had a mandate from Whistler to encourage more people to enter the sport. Given the tools at hand, he figured that launching an adult camp for wannabe ski racers was the perfect vehicle to achieve all these goals.

And he recruited some of Canada's biggest ski personalities to help give the new program some extra cachet. In those early years, the list of Murray Camp coaches read like a virtual who's-who of the country's ski racing elite. Here are just a few of the pros involved: Steve Podborski, Ken Read, Dave Irwin, Sumo (Greg Lee), Chris Kent, Jacques Morel, Glen Wurtele, Jim Kirby, Wayne Wong and Gary Athans.

Today, thirty years later, guests are still discovering, promoting, celebrating, fostering the passion and love for skiing that Mur and friends were so keen to share back in 1983. The Murray Camps aren't much about ski racing anymore though. Over the years, the program's teaching agenda slowly migrated towards the freeride side of things. It's a reflection of the times, sure. But also a reflection of this impressive piece of mountain real estate called Whistler Blackcomb.

And it still blows my mind, you know. For the weekly three-day camp has survived the various upheavals (not to mention the slings and arrows) of three decades of overheated growth and development in this valley. By all rights, the program should have expired long ago. But it's endured. Thrived even. And when I consider the ski pros still coaching at the Murray Camps — quality people like Tom Pro and John Kindree and Dave Traynor and Kim McNight and Leslie Glaysher — I realize what a gift to adult skiers this program really is.

"I feel so lucky to be involved with it," says Murray Camp supervisor, Genevieve Bourgeois. It's her first year with the program, she explains. And so far, it's been a fantastic experience. "I really like the philosophy. It's all about skiing. Getting the most out of our terrain here. It's about extending limits and learning how to reach that next performance level." She stops. Takes a long breath, "But you know," she says, "the camps are about more than that too. They're about transmitting, sharing if you will, the coaches' passion for the mountains. Their very real enthusiasm for sliding on snow."

Another pause. "It's also about the style our coaches use to communicate with their campers." She searches for the right words. Gives up. Shrugs. "There's no bulls**t with them, you know. They talk to the clients in a really straightforward manner." She smiles. "It's sort of tough-love on skis. Totally real. Totally authentic." Once again she looks for the right words to use. "No ski school instructor," she says finally, "would dare talk to a guest like that. But that's the beauty of our program. There's a high trust level between coach and skier. And that means there's a lot of learning going on..."

Indeed. And with an impressive 70 per cent guest-return rate, it's clear that the venerable program still has much to offer. "We're almost like a family," says long-time coach Dave Traynor. He laughs. "And every camp session I coach at is the best session I've ever done..."

A twenty-year veteran of the Murray Camps, the Level IV instructor and coach is clearly as bullish on the program today as he was back in the winter of '93 when a series of fortunate circumstances landed him his first group of Camp keeners. "When Dave [Murray] set this up, I wonder if he really knew what he'd created. I mean, there's a bit of magic that comes into play every week at these camps. Think about it: five strangers come together for three days of high-energy skiing. They experience all sorts of new emotions, new adventures, new passions even. And suddenly they realize: they've found their home. They've found, their tribe..."

He smiles. "That's why this job is so fulfilling." He stops. Takes a slow breath. But he doesn't resume talking right away. "Coaching at the Murray Camps," he begins again, "isn't just about helping guests improve their ski skills. It's also about teaching them appreciation for this amazing mountain environment. Helping them to really see and hear and feel what this place is all about... " A long pause. "And you know, in the end that might be the most important element of all."

Rumour has it that WB's busy bean-counters are considering re-positioning the Murray Camps program, altering its structure to better fit their top-down management style or even shutting it down entirely. That would be a profound mistake. After all, we need all the authenticity we can get around here...