Hans Gmoser and the Bugaboos

Hans Gmoser and the Bugaboos

To my delight, Hans Gmoser—the man who literally created helicopter skiing—moved to the

Nelson area. And since I was the only surveyor working in the area, he contacted me. I got the

first job surveying for Hans Gmoser about twenty miles back in the mountains in an area called

the Bugaboos.

Hans had decided that backcountry skiing was going to develop. He and I went in to study the

situation. We stayed in an abandoned and partly collapsed logging camp. It was just the bare

minimum, little more than a wood frame, but better than staying in tents.

We helicoptered in and did a survey with one of my helpers. I was personally active in the case. I

created a site for a lodge, which Hans subsequently built. It was a very good design, with what is

called a cold roof. Hans had a base station with vehicle access down at the highway where he

had supplies dropped off for the lodge. The helicopter could land at this station and pick up

goods.

Within two years, the lodge was successful enough that Hans asked us to come back again when

they had plowed a road into the area. I went in with a survey crew of four. We surveyed an

additional parcel, and then we realized that Hans would have to have a helicopter site with fuel

storage. We had a great time. The food was gourmet. The skiers were paying stacks of money for

about four or five days of skiing.

One day the skiers were fogged in, but I had my doubletrack snowmobile, so I took them to

another area where they could ski, where it was not foggy. But they were not skiing with a

helicopter. They were just skiing, packing, tramping up the hill on their skis, and then coming

down.

Hans did not have a good map of his property, so I made one for the skiers showing all the

different ski runs that they made. I got a composite from the government of the whole region and

added some twenty basic runs that skiers could do. Hans ran a really good organization and he

jumped on good ideas.

The Alpine Club of Canada, the mountaineering group, wanted to build a new lodge where they

could have 20 or thereabouts people stay overnight. We were hired to survey out another parcel

of land that they would use for building an alpine hut and that they would have tenure of in the

winter. Up to that point, the club had what was commonly called a yurt, an insulated igloo type

facility that was right below Bugaboo Spire.

We had to be helicoptered in, and the helicopter could take, I think, twelve people. But there

were no more than eight people with reservations to be skiing at that time, so there was room for

us in the helicopter. It carried us from the launch up to the area planned for the new alpine hut.

The first day we went up there, I had three men with me. We had to take our overnight gear and

food because if it got foggy, we would have to stay in the yurt overnight. Lord only knows when

they would have been able to come and carry us out.

But anyway, it turned out that the weather did not close in on us. We were carried out that night

and we went back the next day. A couple of us took our skis up there. We were allowed to go

skiing with the high paying tourists. I could ski fairly well so skied without a guide. But I got

supreme heck for it. It was a “no-no” to ski alone because you did not know where it was safe to

go. There were crevasses and other dangers.

We made a second run. I heard a big noise and was afraid that I was caught in a crash and going

to be severely injured, and maybe killed. I was petrified, and I decided that that was enough

playing around.

I was up there to work. I realized we should not be out playing at the same time. We did not ski

anymore. A friend of mine, a fellow worker, also went up there as a tourist. After his first run, he

decided that it was too scary. He quit even though he was paying to be there, because he thought

it was too risky.

It might be okay if you were a cocky fellow who figured he could handle anything. I was too

responsible and refused to risk my life skiing. On that same trip, I had actually watched Hans

Gmoser start a fairly substantial avalanche. We were eating our lunch at the yurt when he

decided to lead the group that he was with. He was a tail end guide. He went into a dangerous

area, very steep. He made a turn that kicked him off the slide, and it did not take him with it.

Luckily, he did not fall and get caught in the avalanche. He triggered it, but he was able to stay

standing.

If he had fallen, he would have almost surely been killed. They didn't have the electronic

sounding mechanism everybody wears now. Today, if somebody gets buried, you just reverse the

polarity on your sounding equipment, and you can pick up the beep of the guy that is buried. You

hope you can dig the person out in time. The rescue equipment then was like a yoyo. You had

about a fifty-foot spool that you would attach to your jacket, and you had twine. The red dyed

twine would be fastened to your jacket and the yoyo would be loose. Searchers would

supposedly be able to find the yoyo. If you got buried, you would likely not be found until you

were dead.