Dispatches From The Duffey – Trip Report

Meet Phil Johnson. Phil is living the dream, although his dream might be a bit different than your typical Whistler visitor. After 6 years of rocking the season pass, his thirst for fresh lines led him to a new approach for his 7th season – no season pass, all self-propelled splitboarding. His resort is now the Duffey Lake Road, and while some people might consider 30-40 days in a season a decent count, here it is end of February and Phil already has 35 days of split-boarding under his belt. When every turn is earned this way, the numbers speak for themselves; Phil is the epitome of dedication to snowboarding and adventure. His enthusiasm for his new backyard arena have been documented with Facebook statuses chronicling his days (see below), and people have been taking notice. New lines, new friends, some hairy situations, he takes it all in stride. And he’s no bitter powder-hound either, go touring with him yourself and you’ll see. He’ll break trail all day with a smile on his face, and even give you the tastiest line because he loves making sure everybody gets the goods. With a new goal in his sights of 100,000 vertical metres for the season, Phil is hungrier than ever, and the rest of his journey will be chronicled right here on 33MAG.

A Man and his splitty

Trip Report, Day 31:

I found a touring partner at the last minute.  Shane, being a Blackcomb ski patroller, had plenty of backcountry experience, but had never been up the Duffey, and we had never toured together before.  Along with his dog, we drove up to the trailhead and started a fast pace along the skin track to the cabin, where we stopped for a quick rest and then kept ascending.

As we reached the col, Shane was in a sense of discovery and amazement with the terrain I had brought him to.  I had picked out a run from the peak and we could see it, anticipation settling in and excitement growing as we skinned faster.  On our way up, we encountered a ski-touring couple. We shared greetings, and watched them drop in, getting excited as their turns proved the snow was great.

This is what it's about

As we reached the peak and started to transfer from skin to ski/board mode, we heard a whistle. Being a patroller, Shane had an anticipation of distress, so he started to ski down towards the sound. He was proven right when he encountered the boyfriend of the couple who said his girlfriend had broken her arm. I told him to ski to the highway, get in his car, drive until he got back into cell phone range, and call for help. I grabbed a jacket off him to help keep her warm. As Shane attended to her we covered her with our jackets and I began my way back to the cabin to grab her sleeping bag and stove. At the cabin I found a toboggan and her things and quickly hurried back.  As I returned, Shane announced that we didn't have much daylight left and we were gonna have to figure out a plan to self-rescue if we didn't see the heli soon. We were caught in a catch-22; moving her might dislodge the broken bone and cause internal bleeding, but not moving her may soon lead to hypothermia.

As more time passed we made the decision to wait a half hour until we put our self-rescue plan to work. Silence settled in, and we pondered what our night could have in store; a warm bed or bushwhacking with headlamps trying to transport an injured skier.  As the sound of the heli blades rolled over the ridge, we were overwhelmed with relief.  I watched how close the blades were and as ice bounced off my face I took cover again. As search and rescue (SAR) emerged from the heli, Shane splinted her arm and we carried her downhill into the chopper. As we watched the heli fly away we put our skins on and enjoyed our descent to the car. I told Shane I had been in a rush that morning and forgotten to pack a few surprise beers. Arriving to the car we were met by some friends who were just on their way in. Telling them our story they were shocked. I got this tap on the shoulder and was  met with a frosty cold one. Shane and I both laugh after my earlier comment.  Although we didn’t achieve the badass lines we had intended, the day was one hell of an experience, and I enjoyed that beer like it was my last.