Not infrequently, visitors ask, “Which mountain is your favourite?” Naturally they ask more during winter when we’re riding a chairlift on one or the other of Whistler and Blackcomb.
My general reply is, “If the hardest decision I have to make in the morning is skiing Whistler or Blackcomb, I feel pretty blessed.” And truth is, I’ve wavered over the years between the two. So I guess the real answer is the same one I give when people ask about my favourite wine, beer, whisky, meal: The one I’m drinking or eating at the moment.
But on a more philosophical, historical level—and putting aside the incredible alpine terrain on Whistler—I’d have to say Blackcomb. Please, no hate mail.
The reason is simple. Whistler without Blackcomb would be a nice place to ski. But it would be a regional ski resort. There’s nothing else close enough to create a critical mass. The weather is, well, the weather. The town itself would be quaint, but far smaller and with fewer amenities. And a lot of people here wouldn’t mind it that way.
But the development of Blackcomb was the key to making this place the 800-pound gorilla it has become, the ski destination every skier wants to visit.
Two people were instrumental in making Blackcomb a reality. Al Raine envisioned a village nestled between two grand mountains. Al saw the potential of Blackcomb. Al—as provincial co-ordinator of ski development—convinced the NDP government and its successor, the Socreds, on that vision.
For his service as one of Whistler’s original council members and for his vision and efforts to get the province’s agreement to develop Blackcomb, Al was honoured with the Freedom of the Municipality years ago.
But it was Hugh Smythe who got Blackcomb built and unleashed the 800-pound beast. And finally, Hugh will receive the same honour on Oct. 22.
It is no hyperbole to say Hugh’s accomplishment is largely responsible for making Whistler, the resort, what it is today. But to travel that long, twisted road took ambition, skill, vision, trust, talented people, hard choices and an incredible amount of pure, blind luck, leading to a daisy chain of events that read like fiction.
Start with a 19-year-old Hugh showing up in Whistler the first year the mountain was opened, 1966, with a year’s worth of experience on Mt. Baker’s volly ski patrol, talking his way into a volly lifty job. Next season, volly patrol on Whistler, pro patroller a year later. Livin’ the dream. Absorbing everything he can about how a ski mountain runs, studying business in the summers.
Given the chance to manage Fortress Mountain in Alberta in 1974—bankrupt since 1971 and owned by the Federal Business Development Bank (FBDB)—he grabs it. Has 60 days before opening to breathe life into disaster. Suggests FBDB talk to Aspen Corp to offload the thing since they didn’t want it. Aspen bites for 50%.
Meanwhile in Whistler, the provincial government was getting serious about Al Raine’s idea and preparing to call for bids to develop Blackcomb. Hugh and Paul Mathews—he of Ecosign Mountain Resort Planners and the Toad Hall poster—cobble together ideas, and a team with financial resources after Aspen, approached by Paul, takes a pass on the plan.
Al Raine’s still kind of keen on getting Aspen to take a second look. Aspen decides to bite after consulting with Hugh. Hugh has to make an agonizing choice: Go with Aspen, who he’s working for, or go with Paul.
On Oct. 12, 1978, the province awards the development rights to Fortress, the entity Hugh and Aspen bid through.
Consider for a moment: On Oct. 18 that year, the prime lending rate was 11%. That is not a typo. A year later it was 13.75%. When Blackcomb opened in 1980 it was 14.5%, and by the time it wrapped up its first season it was pushing 20% and kept going up until the next season opened.
Aspen, owned by 20th Century Fox, had deep pockets, still awash with cash after 1977’s Star Wars phenomena. It is an unanswerable question whether the financial partners Hugh and Paul put together would have survived the market conditions that nearly bankrupted Whistler Village.
But the winning bid did survive. Blackcomb, a 97-pound weakling compared to Whistler across the valley, opened for business in 1980... and stayed in business.
Unable to compete on terrain, Hugh and his talented team focused on high-touch personal service, better food, a huge desire to make the total experience one that left guests feeling pampered. It worked.
The mountain increased visits yearly and developed a core of Blackcomb-only skiers.
Hugh trusted his employees. When Peter Xhignesse suggested developing what became 7th Heaven, a slope no ski-area owner would imagine feasible, Hugh took the chance, light-fingered an unused T-Bar from Fortress and eclipsed Whistler as the Mile High Mountain.
Success followed success: Bringing Intrawest to the table when Aspen wanted out, bringing Nippon Cable in as a partner, opening new lifts almost every season and finally, purchasing Whistler Mountain. So many astute moves to create the gorilla.
Joining Hugh as Whistler’s latest Freedom of the Municipality recipients is former Mayor Nancy Wilhelm-Morden, herself no slouch in the amazing story, multi-faceted accomplishment department.
From squatter to lawyer to councillor to mayor, Nancy has actively taken steps to enrich Whistler.
It wasn’t even Whistler when, as an 18-year-old, she arrived at Alta Lake. After doing the housing shuffle—always a challenge—she and partner Ted squatted along Crabapple Creek. As she said, no hydro, no toilet, no shower. But she studied by lamplight, finished uni and became a lawyer.
Nancy helped shape the community with multiple stints as an elected councillor and two terms as mayor. Among the achievements she holds most dear are preserving the Emerald Forest from development, helping to found the Community Foundation of Whistler—now the Whistler Community Foundation—and smoothing the way for the establishment of the Audain Art Museum.
My own favourite Nancy moment was watching her wield her skill as a lawyer and her way with words as she verbally eviscerated the spokesman for Larco’s unsuccessful bid to rezone the property below its hotel. Priceless.
Freedom of the Municipality is the highest honour Whistler can bestow on someone. Hugh and Nancy are only the 15th and 16th people to be so honoured since the creation of the Resort Municipality of Whistler. They are both, in the true sense of the word, pioneers in the incredible experiment that has seen this town go from zero to mind-boggling in the brief span of 64 years.
I’m honoured to call them both friend.
