DOWN EAST CAPER
LET CAPE SMOKEY INSPIRE YOU TO SKI-TOUR THE CAPE BRETON HIGHLANDS.
Let Cape Smokey inspire you to ski-tour the Cape Breton Highlands.
Type those co-ordinates into Google Earth and you’ll find yourself on the doorstep of a fishing shanty in Meat Cove, Nova Scotia. Meat Cove is an isolated, cliffside community at the northern tip of Cape Breton Island. The weathered house we found ourselves at, like many others in the area, stands defiant to the prevailing winds that blow off the North Atlantic. Meat Cove isn’t a postcard-version of a fishing village; it’s the real deal. Yes, it’s beautiful, but it’s an authentic, rugged beauty that remains with you. Quads and snowmobiles outnumber cars and trucks, and the locals depend on the sea and the summer tourists to get by.
In winter, locals don’t see many people showing up randomly on their doorstep. I’m almost certain that a group of frothing adventurers in ski gear was the last thing one reclusive homeowner expected to see when she answered her front door. In hindsight, I’m pretty sure it was the only door. We explained that we wanted to park a couple of trucks and stage our ski-tour from her property. After quickly assessing that we weren’t harmful and only mildly delusional, she agreed. You’d be hard-pressed to find a Cape Bretoner who wasn’t accommodating—it’s in their DNA.
In these parts, many trailheads are on private land, and snowmobile trails provide moose hunters access to the Aspy Fault, a geographical feature created millennia ago. The Highlands rise dramatically from the sea to a high plateau that extends from one side of the island to the other. There isn’t a singular majestic peak when you top out; the landscape on the plateau resembles tundra. The real reward is a breathtaking view of the ocean and several options to descend: thick forest, steep gullies or some spicy, exposed rock faces. The snow conditions will always be the decider, and on this day the smart choice was to take on the trees. You need quick reflexes and an open mind if you’re tree-skiing this far east. If you’re looking for deeper powder in well-spaced trees, you’ll be more at home in B.C. than C.B.
Cape Breton is more of a deep dive into all the senses, a place you can ski-tour all day, have a scoff of great homemade food and be entertained by rum-fuelled fiddle-playing all night. Music, storytelling and lots of laughs are what I’ll remember most about this trip— the skiing was a bonus.
It’s hard to get lost when you’re ski-touring in Cape Breton. The sea is a pretty obvious handrail and there are only a couple of options: head away from it on the way up, head toward it on the way down. Pretty easy. Somehow, though, we managed to get turned around on our first day. We missed the drainage we were aiming for and ended up doing more skinning than skiing. Spending extra time in the mountains is never a bad option and the slight detour was a chance to get to know our group, most of whom hadn’t met before the trip.
Our crew sounded like the opening line of a bad joke: “A lawyer, an insurance guy and a Czechoslovakian walk into a bar….” We were definitely an eclectic group of skiers. The lawyer was Robert Kennedy, Q.C., one of Canada’s pre-eminent lawyers who specializes in adventure tourism. The insurance guy was Sandy Millar, a senior
V.P. at Marsh McLennan and an expert in ski area risk management. Sandy also happens to be a CSIA Level IV instructor and a very talented guitar player. The latter assured that he was quickly
47°01'31.40N, 60°33'40.75W.
welcomed into the coveted Cape Breton Club. The Czechoslovakian was Martin Kejval, who is part of an investment group that recently purchased Ski Cape Smokey in nearby Ingonish. The group is proposing a multimillion-dollar investment that will transform the local ski area into a fourseason tourism draw. Martin was the youngest member of our group and a former ski racer. His trail-breaking ability and prowess in the tightly spaced trees earned him the nickname “Moose.”
Rounding out the cast were Gregor Wilson, whose family helped found, and still own, Ski Wentworth, one of Nova Scotia’s finest ski hills, and Andrew Stevenson, a semi-retired financial advisor from Halifax. Having been born and raised in Cape Breton, my role included documenting the adventure and translating the Cape Breton accent for the “come-from-aways.” Our photographer was the highly renowned
Music, storytelling and lots of laughs are what I’ll remember most about this trip—the skiing was a bonus.
Pat Morrow, the first Canadian to complete the Seven Summits, having climbed the highest peak on every continent. Morrow can now add the Cape Breton Highlands to his list. The architect of the group was Ross Cloutier, a tourism consultant, executive director of HeliCat Canada and founder of the Adventure Studies Department at Thompson Rivers University in Kamloops, B.C. Not a bad lineup for an unbiased opinion of largely unexplored terrain.
In these parts finding accommodation in winter isn’t easy, but we tucked in just fine at the Highlands Hostel, the funkiest home base one could imagine. The owners, Bricin, Elizabeth and their two kids, moved from B.C. to the community of Cape North in search of a simpler life. They bought an old church and created a space full of good vibes and woodsmoke. Bricin, or Striker to his friends, is a pioneer of the Canadian longboard skateboarding scene. The hostel is affectionately known as the Church of Skatin’.
It’s become an impromptu music venue, a gathering place and a perfect headquarters for exploring the North. If you check it out, don’t play table hockey with five-year-old Cash—he’s a shark. It’s truly humbling to lose to a child when you’re legitimately trying to win.
From Cape North, we were able to explore a big chunk of the surrounding terrain. One morning, Andrew, who has explored a lot of the area, took me for a drive to point out some of the untapped ski potential. From the road he pointed to a rocky chute that was buttressed by two large rocks. It was a line he’d skied the previous year, naming it Big Scotty’s Col. A couple of days later Andrew took Pat and me to meet Big Scotty. The man lived up to his name. From his spectacular front-window view of the Bay St. Lawrence wharf, Scotty watches the lobster boats come and go and knows each fisherman by name. His pride and joy are the graduation photos of all his kids lined up on the wall. Sitting in his living room and listening to his stories reminded me of what makes the area so special: there is still a tradition of oral history and a pace of life that’s been lost in many other places.
The next day we had a bit of liquid powder and the hostel’s comfy beds were magnetic. A few of the crew took a breather while Andrew, Gregor and I went to explore an area called Grays Hollow. It ended up being a highlight of the trip. We staged from a farmstead that was originally settled in the late 1800s or early 1900s. The ascent was through old-growth birch forest that got steeper the higher up we skinned. We reached the top and had a great view of the valley we’d left an hour or so earlier. The snow on the ski down may have been somewhat marginal, but the fun factor was through the roof. We ended the day with a tour of the property’s restored barn. Having originally been raised by many hands in the community, it stands symbolic of the level of co-operation that it took simply to exist here at the turn of the century. Maybe that explains the friendliness of the people.
So, is Cape Breton’s northern peninsula the next great undiscovered gem in the ski world? The answer is a bit complicated and lies in how you’d define your perfect ski trip. Coastal climate can be prone to large temperature fluctuations and a weather phenomenon called
Les Suetes, which is a nearly hurricane-force southeast wind. Average snow accumulation of between three and four metres means a deep snowpack and when that snow comes, it can be accompanied by some pretty woolly weather. Blower snow and faceshots aren’t something that happen every day.
There’s also the boreal forest. On many of the best slopes the natural tree cover is thicker than a bowl of day-old porridge, making it tough for us to ski with rhythm and speed. Access is an issue but most Cape Bretoners would have no problem with someone using their property to access the mountains, as long as those people ask first, are respectful and leave it like they found it.
We had our meals catered by a local restaurant owner named Maureena Cook. Our home-cooked meals were taken in a beautifully restored period farmhouse, where we were entertained by Maureena’s guitar-playing father, Larry. Larry is old enough to remember when Willie Nelson was just getting started in the business.
If memories are the metric you use to measure a trip’s success, this was one of the best ones ever. Will you ski the best snow and terrain of your life? Maybe, maybe not.
Will you be blown away by all the other unexpected experiences that make a trip awesome? I know I was. There’s an old cliché that says, it’s not the years in your life, but the life in your years. For that alone a winter trip to Cape Breton should be on your list. And if you get to listen to a duet by Maureena and Larry Cook, or sit in a living room listening to local musician Angelo Spinazzola, I guarantee you’ll remember that just as much as the skiing.
The next day we had a bit of liquid powder and the hostel’s comfy beds were magnetic.