Explorer Em has plunged herself into deep Canadian winter in search of powder and backcountry lines like she’s never known before. Turns out she dropped in on a steep learning curve.

It’s no secret that Canada is some kind of Mecca when it comes to skiing. Many of us who’ve grown up playing in the beloved Australian slush dream of descending steep couloirs and bouncing between glades, with fluffy snow streaming over our heads like champagne.

Shamelessly, I’m part of the privileged bunch and have been on a quest to experience for myself the powdery stuff our North American friends so often boast about.

Read more: Packing List for Backcountry Skiing & Splitboarding

Welcome to British Columbia’s ‘Powder Belt’

After 15 years of skiing downhill, I’ve recently got into backcountry ski touring, a rapidly-growing alpine sport, especially in Canada. It’s brought me to Revelstoke. A sweet mountain town in the interior of British Columbia, and part of what’s colloquially called the ‘Powder Belt’ – a series of mountains in the area known for their extreme dumpage (e.g. Fernie, White Water Resort in Nelson, Kicking Horse in Golden).

 

Revelling in the stoke at Revelstoke

 

Revelstoke stands out for its expansive and challenging terrain. The resort itself is epic, claiming the most vertical in North America (1,713m).

It also provides access to a breadth of ‘slack country’ that links back to the resort, so you can do backcountry tree laps through Montana Bowl with the help of a chairlift halfway up the hill, or attempt a bigger mission to Kokanee Peak and its yonder bowls. There are myriad mountains nearby to explore.

 

Choosing which line to ski in Montana Bowl

Now, Onto the Real Avalanche Terrain

Close by is Rogers Pass within Glacier National Park, traditionally used by the Ktunaxa, Secwépemc, Sinixt, and Syilx/Okanagan Peoples. It’s an epic destination for all kinds of alpine excursions. To use this area, I had to pass a thorough online quiz via Parks Canada.

The permit system keeps recreationists in specific areas because many parts of the pass close for military bombing to prevent slides onto the major highway below. Almost every single backcountry route around here demands a 1,000m or more climb up and passes through complex terrain features and any number of frequent slide paths. Nervous yet?

Judging myself to be reasonably fit and equipped with basic backcountry knowledge, I decided to go head first into Rogers Pass by completing my Avalanche Safety Training Course 2 (AST2) on my third day in town. Yep, I was nervous. This four-day intensive training was a complete trial-by-fire.

 

Not exactly your average walk in the park

 

We met early each morning to discuss route planning, Avalanche Canada’s hazard warnings for the day, and how to analyse the snowpack (science, eek?!). Then we’d drive a snowy highway to the pass, spend the whole day tramping up long, steep hills on skins; ski one run, arrive home in the dark, and repeat.

We received over half a metre of fresh snow that week, but my unadapted legs truly didn’t know how to handle so much sweet pow. I fell over. A lot.

 

Cutting a skin track in half a metre of snow

 

Oh, and the temps dropped to -30℃ over the final two days. I felt very much out of my depth. Sore, exhausted, and cold, I struggled to keep up with the group and felt embarrassed at my lack of fitness.

It surpassed (in difficulty and grandeur) any ski touring I’d attempted in New Zealand, Australia, or Japan.

 

Me with frozen hair

From Survive to Thrive

Tough though it was, this intro to ski touring in Canada humbled me, it demonstrated how much there is to learn about navigating safely in the backcountry, and the importance of many things: preparation, communication, sustenance, extra layers, knowing your own limits. And the need for gear. So. Much. Gear.

Since then, going out without a guide has continued my education. We’ve seen one of BC’s most unpredictable season’s ever: record low snowfall, extreme cold, followed by a warming event, followed by large dumps, followed by more warming.

 

You never know what you might get in British Columbia

 

I’ve gone curiously, but cautiously, into moderate avalanche terrain, and had some excellent days. There’s also been days where we’ve had to change plans and back away because the wind blew in or the snow just wasn’t safe to ski.

While the conditions have varied, the landscape has consistently blown me away. Climbing gradually through snowy Douglas fir forest, opening up to vistas above multiple rocky peaks, seeing the edges of a distant glacier embanked into the cliffs.

 

A speccy spring day on Kokanee Peak

 

When the sun’s out and it’s silent in the mountains and there’s a fresh slope ahead just waiting to be skied down, those moments have been magic. Safe to say, I’m hooked. And I’m staying for more next year.

Read more: How To Become a Backcountry Guide and Share the Stoke of Ski Touring

This piece was brought to you by a real living human who felt the wind in their hair and described their adventure in their own words. This is because we rate authenticity and the sharing of great experiences in the natural world – it’s all part of our ethos here at We Are Explorers. You can read more about it in our Editorial Standards.