A few weeks ago a family friend invited me on an all-expenses-paid cat-skiing trip in the Canadian Rockies. Being a total ski-addict, I jumped at the invitation. I had never been cat-skiing before, let alone skiing in Canada, so I was totally psyched for the trip.
In mid-January we drove to Fernie, British Columbia, a small town one hour north of the U.S. border. We turned off the highway and drove 4 miles up a snow covered road, and from there a snowcat took us 40 minutes up to the remotely located Island Lake Lodge, where we stayed for the next four days. Big mountains surround the four lodges that are tucked into the thick, cedar forest. I felt like I was in the middle of nowhere.
On the first snowy morning‑after a delicious breakfast‑we practiced transceiver searches and then boarded the snowcat to begin our first day of cat-skiing.
We skied in large bowls and gladed trees.  The main hazards were avalanches, tree wells, and karst holes (large holes in the ground ranging from 10 to 200 feet in width and depth). We could not access the higher, steeper terrain because of visibility and snow stability. To reduce the avalanche risk we stayed on low-angle runs (between 20 and 35 degrees).
The operation has access to a lot of terrain, meaning untracked turns, all day. Island Lake Lodge owns the land they operate on, allowing them to thin the trees in the summer, therefore creating perfect tree-skiing in the winter. I had a blast skiing fast and playfully dodging trees.
The temperature on the first day was a tropical 32 degrees in the lower elevations, and up high it was little cooler. The top half of the runs had 10 to 12 inches of creamy powder; the last few turns of most runs consisted of heavy, sticky, no-fun-to-ski snow, a.k.a. “flypaper” snow. We were skiing down and enjoying our runs when suddenly the powder turned into flypaper snow. Our skis stuck like glue while our bodies continued onward down the hill, resulting in double ejections and face plants. We were very grateful for the hot tub that evening.
The second morning presented a dreadful 34 degrees and rain, meaning sticky snow top to bottom. After the previous day nobody was up for more flypaper snow, so we went to Fernie Ski Resort and blazed their tails. It was pouring rain at the bottom of the resort and snowing up high. We had a good time exploring the area, even as the rain penetrated through our clothes and soaked us like sponges. Brrr.
With such ridiculous temperatures, we needed a drastic change in the weather for the skiing to improve. We figured the chances were slim, but we kept our fingers crossed anyway.
Lucky for us, the snow gods were looking out for us and we awoke to 12 inches of fresh snow the next morning! We eagerly loaded our fat, powder skis into the cat and headed up into the mountains. The trees were plastered with snow, looking like snow ghosts against the white background of powder. Clouds obscured the mountain peaks and snowflakes fell lightly all day. The skiing was much better than I had expected‑top to bottom powder, no flypaper!  Smooth, creamy powder made every turn feel effortless and floaty. Huge grins plastered our faces when we got to the bottom. Those turns were amazing, and every run after that seemed to get even better. Some of the runs we skied had stumps and rocks covered by the snow, forming great pillows to jump off.  All that powder made us feel invincible. We became fearless and caught big air, knowing the landings would be soft and forgiving if we crashed.
Over dinner, we reveled in the fact that we had skied 20,000 vertical feet of untracked powder.
I noticed big flakes falling from the dark sky when I went to bed. “Oh yeah,” I thought, “more freshies for the last day of our trip.” It continued to snow all night while we dreamed of shredding powder.
Another 12 inches of cream lay on the ground the next morning. Snow and weather conditions allowed us to go higher up into the mountains and shred some new, steep terrain. The skiing wasn’t amazing- it was epic.  It was the kind of snow I had dreamed about all night. We had run after run of untracked powder all to ourselves. It was even better than the day before, which I didn’t think was possible. But it was.
We relived our trip on the drive home that evening and told our favorite stories. We were totally stoked that the weather and snow conditions had turned around in just one night, and allowed us to have an incredible trip. The great snow made it hard to differentiate between reality and our dreams. Those last two days will be remembered for a long time. We were under the influence of powder skiing.