MOUNTAIN LIFE - Coast Mountains | Fall Winter 2019

97 words :: Ben Osborne Google Earth, a few emails, a single 15-minute Skype session, and we were assured that we would be safe and that the riding would be epic. Pack the bags, we’re going to Russia to ski in the Caucasus Mountains near Mount Elbrus, a far-off corner of the country near the border with Georgia. It’s a funny thing, technology—it can make you feel so comforted, like you know it all. We exchanged a few emails with a contact on the ground in Russia, combed through an internet database of historical climate and snowfall data, and a watched few YouTube videos—surely this was enough to reassure our mothers that everything would be all right for a group of ski bums in their mid-20s travelling to a distant land. “Don’t worry,” we proclaimed, “we got this!” But as we dug deeper (after the tickets were booked) the techno- comforts of instant access to information revealed a different perspective—a grave travel advisory from the Government of Canada warned, “Avoid all travel—Kabardino-Balkaria (including the Mount Elbrus region). Exercise a high degree of caution due to crime and the threat from terrorism.” We checked back in with our source in Whistler—Keith Reid had skied the area before to help train local mountain guides, one of whom he would eventually connect us with named Vitaly Stegno. Reid was our only real connection to the area, and a short ride with him up the Blackcomb T-bar was all we got. As former president of the ACMG and a celebrity mountain guide in Canada, Reid is a busy man. His smirk reassured us that our trip wasn’t a death wish, but his demeanour suggested we were in for an interesting experience. “Stay with Vitaly”, he told us. “And it’s gonna be f*ckin’ weird—get ready.” We looped back to Google Earth one more time, scanning for recognizable terrain features and potential lines to make sure it was really worth it. We combed the internet for videos of riding in the area—there wasn’t much to be found. We spotted a few colouirs and zones we wanted to ride, but it looked a bit dry. We stayed positive: “Probably just a low snow year.” Emails kept arriving from our guide. “This is a freeride paradise… you have to come. It will be so epic. Have you completed your visa application yet?” We shrugged our shoulders, forked over $500 to secure travel visas, and we were off. In the age of over-saturated ski media, the idea to travel to Russia was born of a feeling that could most closely be related to spite. I had been to Japan and I knew the recipe: land in Tokyo, hit the Robot Bar, head to the mountains crammed into a van, and smash powder (and sake). It’s the best riding experience you could ever ask for, but we wanted something less packaged, less commodified, and less familiar. RUSSIA BY SMARTPHONE Flawed intelligence in the Caucasus Range JOURNEY “Believe nothing you hear, and only half that you see”—Edgar Allen Poe Scoping lines in a far-off land on hte internet is better than nothing, but don't take it as gospel. GOOGLE EARTH