MOUNTAIN LIFE - Coast Mountains | Fall Winter 2019

98 Originally made from caribou or seal, the parka was invented by the Inuit in the Canadian Arctic as a means of protection from wind, cold and moisture. And so, we were off, realizing almost immediately after stumbling off the plane in Moscow that Google Translate was our new best friend (we had missed one key piece of information in our web searches: almost nobody in Russia speaks English). We arrived at Elbrus to find it hadn’t snowed in weeks, the wind had blown hard, and there wasn’t going to be much riding. However, our local guide Vitaly hadn’t lied. The terrain looked like a lovechild of the Alps (rocky peaks, high alpine seracs and icefalls) and the Coast Mountains (manageable couloirs and steep faces) that with the right snow conditions would have provided some of the best lines our lives. That dire travel advisory, on the other hand, turned out to be the most misleading beta of all. We were consistently stopped in town—not to be hassled, but instead welcomed, asked where we were from, and usually invited to enjoy some combination of local meat, onions and dill. These were hearty mountain people working to survive and feed their families. No one seemed interested in telling us their politics, even if we could have understood what they said. We left Elbrus appreciating a wild and unexplored place and peeved at our bad luck with snow. However, weather sites predicted a storm coming to Sochi, home of the 2018 Winter Olympic Games, so we headed west toward a more familiar snowpack. The trusty online forecast called for six centimetres a day right through the rest of our trip. And according to the translated online press, we could expect crowds at Russia’s most popular ski resort where Putin himself had just finished his annual vacation. Once again, technology was misleading. It snowed 1.5 metres in three days, the crowds were non-existent and the locals were just as friendly as the ones we’d left behind—so much for a cold, unwelcoming culture. I came to Russia because I wanted to do something different—to find adventure in a less-travelled place. While internet research and contact with a local guide helped draw me in, I also learned the push and pull of the information superhighway is not always to be trusted. For all our clicking and hunkering over screens beforehand, it was word of mouth that guided us through the countryside and culture of this incredible nation. When you take a dive into an unfamiliar place, the returns are never guaranteed—but the adventure always seems to give back. Mother Russia welcomed us with open arms, and beyond the word of mouth, our persistent “research” proved to be futile—the experience was the only truth on a trip into the unknown. Once again, technology was misleading. It snowed 1.5 metres in three days, the crowds were non-existent and the locals were just as friendly as the ones we’d left behind—so much for a cold, unwelcoming culture. TOP LEFT Jordy Norris and some (nearly) Siberian Huskies. TOP RIGHT The demilitarized zone holding the goods. It’s probably never been ridden but who says we can’t dream? BOTTOM LEFT The single-seat chairlift offers a quiet ride every time. BOTTOM RIGHT Our unofficial driver during our stay in Elbrus offered us pears and cigarettes the first time we got in the car. Despite a massive language barrier, we became friends from that moment on. BEN OSBORNE