Now That's Progress

It’s always surprising to me how much I enjoy the Haig Glacier. Who’d have thought that being sequestered on a mountain, many kilometres from the nearest flush toilet, living in cramped, stuffy huts and doing nothing but eating, sleeping, skiing and playing scrabble for a week can be so much fun. There are not exactly a lot of activities to fill your day with up here, but those few things that you can do are best described as epic; hours spent simply eating as much as possible or skiing so many circles on the same six kilometre loop that it becomes difficult to remember what day it is let alone what lap you are on. And of course, there are the dead-to-the-world naps. Located on the Haig Glacier, at the border between Alberta and B.C. in Kananaskis Country, the Beckie Scott Centre for High Altitude Training on the Haig Glacier is a place that is well known to nearly every high-level cross-country skier and biathlete in Canada. This week is my ninth time at the Haig, and I still look forward to these camps. Training here every year for the past five, I have noticed changes. A three-hour trail run from Upper Kananaskis Lakes takes you along the Upper Kananaskis River, onto interminable switch-backs, (which, despite their seemingly infinite character do eventually end) then back into the shade of spruce trees near Lawson Lake. Growing up in Northern Ontario has its benefits, but it certainly doesn’t prepare you for the quiet beauty of the alpine meadows that the trail crosses. The last twenty-five minutes of the run is a less-than-pleasant climb up over the ridge from the campground at Turbine Falls and into the rock field moonscape where the training centre huts are located. A helicopter airlifts our bags and skis in for us, and with only one flight a week forgetting your Birkenstocks is not an option.
A typical day at the Haig starts at seven am with breakfast, followed by a forty-five minute hike from the main camp up to the glacier proper. That’s a fair amount of effort just to reach the snow, so once we’re up there we might as well ski…a lot. I’m shooting for twenty-eight hours over the six days that we’re here, and that won’t even be a record for me, much less the camp. The snow conditions can be very challenging, but thanks to some superb grooming by the CODA (Calgary Olympic Development Association) guys who run the camp, having mid-February conditions are not as uncommon as one might think. The CODA guys are also responsible for some of the best eating to be had anywhere in Alberta. Don’t believe me? Try Jody’s coconut curry and rice, and you’ll soon change your tune. After a huge post-ski lunch comes my favourite part: napping. Maybe it’s something about high-altitude air and low oxygen, but napping at the Haig is almost akin to a religious experience. A scrabble game or an afternoon movie is followed by another demonstration of culinary prowess in massive quantities, followed by sleep. Then, get up and do it all again, for a week straight. We’re all incredibly lucky to have the chance to train at a place like this. The alpine facility at Farnham Glacier was recently closed, denying Canada’s up and coming alpine skiers the same opportunity. It takes an exhausting amount of effort on the part of CODA and everyone else involved to keep this place running for us, and they deserve more thanks than they get. After all, this place is pretty isolated.
Not so isolated, however, as to escape the machinations of pop culture. It is pervasive even amongst the marmots and rock. That’s to be expected in such an activity-restricted place. After all, magazines are pretty easy to carry. Still, I’ve always looked forward to these weeklong training camps for the same reason that Bow Valley backcountry skiers, hikers, climbers and other adventure enthusiasts enjoy their trips: it’s a chance to get away from the world. As a political science student, I do miss keeping up on current events, but for the most part I enjoy being away from it all.
Away from it, that is, until the news of Michael Jackson’s death forced it’s way into our lives during our last camp in June. In a place surrounded by such rugged natural beauty, somewhere that you’d expect to be as far from pop media as one could reasonably get, the news of Jackson’s death reached us within, I am told, less than an hour of his body being found. Less than an hour for news to travel not just from city to city across a continent, but to penetrate the backcountry of the Canadian Rockies. And we’re not talking about the death of a president, or the collapse of a symbolic wall. We’re talking about an over-the-hill pop musician, and the rapt fascination with which we discussed his death while eating dinner at twenty four hundred metres says something about progress. Playing scrabble between workouts, I am surrounded by no less than five laptops (admittedly one of which is mine). Two years ago there were none. Four years ago there was no satellite TV, let alone Internet (even if it is for only a few precious minutes a day). I won’t bother to count the number of iPods. To be fair, these luxuries serve a very important purpose. The reason we all come up here is to access some of the best training in Canada, and no reasonable expense is spared to help us relax and recover between workouts. The couches, TV and board games are not utterly frivolous. What’s more, many of us are also part time students, and having access to the web means we can continue our academics (or submit a newspaper article on time) even from such a remote place. What I find interesting is that, given the stunning geography of this place, we still choose to surround ourselves with pop culture. Our daily lives are full to the brim with gadgets whose only purpose is to facilitate our access to Facebook, to instant connectedness. I’m as guilty of it as anyone. With such a diverse team, the microcosm of society that is life at the Haig makes for some interesting food for thought…after we’ve arrived back in Canmore on Friday that is. Right now I’m far too tired for such deep thoughts.
As always: On the mountain as in life, always ride that high line.