The Warden has been busy, and has had no time to post as of late. Apologies for that. On Saturday Wolfgang and Mrs. Switchback purchased a new R.V. This addition to the fleet will serve as a base camp for riding trips this summer, allowing for more fantastic stories from the trail! So, this week a few pics of Wolf's new summer home as well as a detailed photo essay of Dr. Goldfinger and Wolfgang's epic day of shredding the pow in the Coquihalla on Sunday. This was, by far, the best day of the year for the Wardens and one of the runs ranks up near the top for the career! 1200 feet, over a foot of light pow and some of the most scenic and adventuresome skiing one could ask for. 5 runs, 4000 feet and 7 hours on the move. Anyway, we'll let the pics speak for themselves.

So, the Warden's beautiful, and oh so talented wife turned 40 on the weekend. This meant two things. First, no skiing. Second, we partied like Caligula all week long. Seven full days of heavy drug use, drunken brawls and general dissolute behavior were the order of the day. A couple of the wardens also found time for some riding. Little Cheecho, Wolfgang and a new apprentice, who is, for the time being, without a name, sampled the trails in Dufferin, before riding over to Knutsford. Traction was superb as Wolf' led the way down. Spirits were high until Little Cheecho disapeared. Fearing that Cheecho was being gang raped by a gaggle of Black Bears, Wolfgang retraced his tracks, only to find Little Cheecho, with a freshly fixed tire, rolling down the tail. As Wolf turned around, his sexy Santa Cruz picked up a stick in the rear derailleur, resulting in some debilitating damage. Broken derailleur, bent hanger, eight broken spokes, and a ruined chain, all told, around six hundred bucks!!!
The rest of the ride was all about coasting down the hill on a wobbly wheel with a scowl of utter disgust on the Warden's face. Ah well, it's only money, and as Wolfgang always says, broken parts are just an opportunity for up-grades!

Winter seems to be winding down a little early around the Powder Warden domain. Warm weather in the mountains is wreaking havoc with Wolfgang's mandate to ski well into June. The un-seasonably tropical temps also appear to be having a deleterious effect on the ski desires of certain 'Wardens. So, as some stayed home to launder their panties, Dr. Goldfinger and Wolfgang braved rain, snow and high winds to perform a recon mission deep into the wilds of *%**# creek, just south of town. This was one in a series of such forays into several adjoining drainage's in this area, in a bold move to take the terrain into Warden hands.Despite the poor weather and lack of visibility, Goldfinger and Switchback are quietly optimistic about their mission, but refused further comment, citing issues of Powder Warden security for their silence. So, not much to report on this trip, but, they say it will pay handsome dividends in the near future.

On another note, the Wardens spent Saturday deeply involved in Rex's Monster Boler trailer project. Rex, Little Cheecho and Wolf nearly completed the fab-work on the Boler's frame that features over a foot of suspension lift!! We will continue to follow the build over the next couple of months until it's debut on a mountain biking camping trip early this summer.

Well, back to the back country this week. The Powder Wardens have been a bit removed from their skiing for a spell due to Wolfgangs' Island adventure and work commitments. The Wardens have been back out to the Valley-X for the third time this season, carefully poking around exploring this new area. Every one has been a bit spooked after the burial and death of a well known local back-country skier. Now as Wolfgang toils at the keyboard, word comes in of a large slide on Boulder Mountain that hit and buried up to 200 sledders. Like the Canadian Avalanche Centre says, it is spooky out there!
Regardless, we loaded up early Saturday, and headed south, back to the Valley-X. After a battle with a recalcitrant gas pump and a dead sled battery we roosted up into the fresh snow that blanketed the gravel in the parking area. A stunning day was dawning with sapphire tempered skies and a billion tiny diamonds hanging suspended in the cool morning air. As we climbed away from the noisy machines, it was evident that it was a day destined for a long tour.
This thought, however, was interrupted by the siren call of a beautiful, beckoning downhill slope, covered with cold smoke, that sat warming in the sun. If we didn't ski it, the afternoon sun would render it cooked, like overdone mashed potatoes. Not wanting to be responsible for such a travesty, we quickly came to the consensus that we would ski it. So we did. And it was fine.

Continuing along our way, we wound a circuitous path along the ridgline. Stupendous views, and unskied slopes called out to us, but we were men on a mission. The summit of *&**^% peak had eluded us twice before, so our resolve was iron-clad, and could not be shaken. So we skinned up to the top for some stunning views, the Monashees to the east, the Coast-range to the west and all the way to Mt. Baker in the South. A rare day to behold. After a bite to eat, we tore off our climbing skins, and had a fantastic run back down the ridge. Indeed, a line down a scenic ridge may be second only to a rock-walled couloir in terms of aesthetics. At the bottom we decided to descend further, off the south face of the ridge down into Valley-X itself. Spring corn was on the menu for this part of the run that tallied 1500 feet or so.
After a climb back up to the ridge we had a long tour back to some fine, cold powder on north-facing slopes that we, as Powder Wardens, felt obliged to inspect. The run started in the sun, dropped a bigger than expected cliff(optional!), and then cascaded down towards the valley floor on a perfect fall-line. Sweet turns to conclude the gravity fueled portion of the days' program, then a long slog back to the top and out through the thick timber to our awaiting chariots. Back out to the trucks for a total of 8 hours, 20kms and 4000 vertical feet for the day.

Wolfgang is back from his sabbatical, looking like a man who has spent two weeks in the spa with 4 beautiful, well endowed, nubile young girls looking after his every need. Sadly, this is not the case. He did, however, spend a couple of weeks on the Island resting up, doing some ridin' and playing with 4 stinky, ill-behaved beasts. Here is a quick report based on notes from Wolfs' journal.Arrived on Sunday, set up the Kona cyclocrosser, and headed out from Mill bay along an old paved logging road out to Bamberton, along Mill Bay road and up the highway to Cobble Hill, then returning home along sweet back roads for a quick 30km. Hot tub and dinner followed in logical order. On Monday, headed west to Shawnigan Lake on smooth, curvy pavement. Went clockwise around the lake to the northwest end and found an abandoned rail grade heading for Sooke Lake. Excellent riding on nice gravel to the end south end of Shawnigan, back to paved roads an re-traced the route home for 46km of rolling terrain.A radical change in the weather brought pissing rain to the area, but Wolfgang, being hard as tungsten steel, headed out on gravel roads along the Koksilah River. Things quickly turned to crap, much like a November cyclocross race in northern Belgium. Turning around when fingers and toes went numb, Wolfgang ground out36 km. An hour in the hot tub with a cold Pepsi, brought the blood back into the extremities. On Thursday better weather accompanied Wolfgang back out to the old E and N rail grade. Starting from the impressive, if a little rotten, Kinsal trestle, Wolf went south on steadily deteriorating roads until they became un ridable. Then, retracing his tracks for a few km's, he returned to the pavement for a cat. 4 climb up to the TransCanada, then turned around and headed home through Shawnigan Lake. Total mileage for the day; 45km

After taking Friday off, Wolfgang returned to the bike on Saturday for a 65 km ride that took him out through Cobble Hill across Highway 1 and down to Cowichan Bay, through the Indian Reserve, where he fought off a giant, rabid Rottweiler, and out to Maple Bay. Next, over to Duncan, and out the Cowichan Valley where it started to drizzle. Back out to Duncan, and 15 km along the scary highway. Turned off at Cobble hill store, and the chips, pop, and a bar got Wolf home. Sunday was a recovery ride with Fetch the Dog for 10 km along old logging roads.Feeling strong, and having a broken front shifter, on Monday, meant a climbing day for Wolfgang. Selecting steep logging roads, Wolf ground out 25 km's on the rough gravel including a cat. 2 with 1500 feet of climbing in 8km. The only flat tire of the week came on the descent, but a quick repair got him home. The rest of the time was spent dealing with the foul smelling, ill behaved malcontents known as Bo, Buddy, Missy(aka-The Indian) and Fetch. Back skiing on the week-end, and a report will follow shortly.


P.S. thanks to Elmer and Nina for their hospitality and generosity.

Wolfgang is taking a much needed and long over-due hiatus from his duties as warden. 10 days on the island should do wonders to re-charge the creative batteries and prepare for the coming of spring. Lots of skiing to get to as well as a full on attack of the mountain bike season to come. As well, Wolfgangs' sabbatical will serve as a short, high intensity training camp to ensure that he is fit for the coming challenges. The Powder Wardens have a very busy year ahead.

So, with a 5:00am start on Saturday, there will be no ski tour to report on this week-end. Each Powder Warden is free to do what they see fit; Goldfinger is taking his family skiing, Little Cheecho and Rex will practice avalanche skills, and Juice Terry is tied up with whores, cocaine, whisky and sledding. In order to tide over the burgeoning readership, who aren't using the break to study their Kafka, Wolfgang and little Cheecho documented a mountain bike ride from Wednesday for you viewing pleasure.

Nothing too hard-core to start with, just a quick spin through the Bachelor grass lands, enjoying the warm spring-like weather. Jak the Dog, his fitness already like that of a 50kg, EPO shooting euro-trash roadie, also accompanied us. So enjoy the pics, and Wolfgang will try to post some thing next week.

Post Script: A pic of Romi the Cat, 'cause she's cool and Wolf' likes it!

We were somewhere near Barrier at the edge of the mountains when the drugs began to take hold. I remember Dr. Goldfinger saying something like "I feel a little light headed; maybe you should drive". We were pointing north, on the road again, heading for Clearwater, a small caravan of trucks, sleds and desperate skiers looking for deep snow in an abysmal winter. Three serious men on a serious journey to the heart of the Canadian dream. Powder. We needed it and were willing to do what ever it took. Early mornings, long drives, expensive sleds and hours of trail breaking, all par for the Powder Warden course. We had two bags of grass, seventy-five pellets of mescalin, five sheets of high powered blotter acid, a salt shaker half full of cocaine and a whole galaxy of multi-coloured uppers and downers, laughers and screamers. Also a quart of tequila, a quart of rum and a pint of raw ether. Like I said, serious men.

The drive and sled ride went by like they never happened. Who knows, maybe they didn't. We found ourselves deep in Spahats creek, Dr. Goldfinger breaking trail through a foot of fresh followed by Rex and Wolfgang, heading for parts unknown. You sometimes need to hoe a new row if you want to harvest good crop. We climbed into the clouds for 1500 feet where the first order of business was to get rid of the skins and choose a line. We decided on down. You can't make the turns happen, you have to let them happen. And happen they did, down down, past a nice steep bowl that figured prominently late in the day. Down down, turning and jumping through the old growth 'til the forest spat us out, legs spent, onto the logging road.Re-grouping for a quick bite and a snort from the salt shaker, we attached climbing skins, and commenced with the second climb. 800 feet into it, we came upon the entrance to a steep, narrow chute dumping into a small bowl. Room for only one, Wolfgang volunteered to do the deed and check out the avy conditions by skiing the 45 degree line. Goldfinger and Femorous found their own lines. Fortunately, the stability agreed with our test pit and only mild sloughing occurred. Down through the trees again and we start up for run #3.On the way up we cross a large slope that is begging like a fat man in a pie shop without his wallet, to be skied. Rex scoped his line, and Wofgang slashed four quick turns down to document it for the blog. As Rex enters the view finder he is looking good, but it is soon evident that not all is well, as a tip dives, a groin is stretched, and three or four cartwheels are executed in pure Powder Warden style! All captured for you greasy, unwashed heathens to behold. It had to be the ether. Rex had been acting suspicious at the last break, and had soaked his balaclava in the vile substance and had been breathing deeply for the last 45 minutes It is a wonder that he was ambulatory at all, never mind able to ski!

We still had to skin back up to the top in order to be able to ski back to the sleds. The coke was wearing off, and Wolfgang was very weary. He settled in to strange state of semi- consciousness and slowly meandered up the skin track in pursuit of Goldfinger who had discovered a sweet chute that dumped out into big open bowl. Diving into the best run of the day, it seemed that the Powder Wardens had stumbled into the very beating heart of the Canadian dream! When we got to the sleds, our hearts were filled with joy. We felt like monster reincarnations of Horatio Alger, Men on the Move, just sick enough to be totally confident.