All Images: Bryan Ralph | Skier & Wordsmith: Craig Murray
Chatter Creek, British Columbia, has held a special place in the hearts of freeskiers for years. Featured in films and photographs since the sport’s inception, the area beckons for the adventurous rider to come forth and etch their track into the history books. This calling finds its way into the minds of professional skiers from around the globe. One such skier is Craig Murray, the smooth-styling Kiwi who has captivated audiences of MSP films for several seasons. Here, Murray details his exhausting, elaborate and rewarding journey to Chatter Creek last winter.
It was the anticipation after four fallen-through trips that jolted me awake as we rolled into the railroad town of Donald. With machinery towering over our heavily loaded trucks, I could tell this place was different. Excitement was building towards the unknown, 70km down a dirt road. I went for a walk around the staging area. Disguised as a shed, but doubling as a workshop, heliport, and office… Anatole had kindly driven the last leg of the journey through Rogers’s pass at 5 am as I dozed off, but there would be no returning to sleep now.
I had heard so much about Chatter but never managed to make it to this somewhat sacred place. Injury and conditions had their respective say and held me at arm’s length until now. Since watching Matchstick Production’s ‘Superheroes of Stoke’ at twelve years old I have wondered what it would feel like to walk in the footsteps of that film crew. Now here I am, in a state of stunned disbelief, not able to comprehend that an opportunity has come back in full circle with MSP. Perhaps more amazingly alongside none other than Mark Abma and Sam Kuch.
The shadows shortened as the sun threatened to show itself above the treetops. With no time to spare before the road melted to a muddy bog, our crew, consisting of Mark, Sam, Anatole Tuzlak, Ty Theoret and Bryan Ralph, bid goodbye to the last of civilization and began the bumpy journey North. It was a new experience for me calling our km on the logging channel, conversely, the dirt road made me feel at home like a classic New Zealand mission as I navigated Anatole’s pick-up through the holes and frozen mud.
We met the snowcat at the end of the dirt road which transported all our equipment up to the lodge. It felt good to fly up the last 15 km on our snowmobiles after the slow progress in the trucks. Coming over the last rise I simply couldn’t believe my eyes. I had heard tales of the infamous lodge, but still, my breath was taken away. It was easily the biggest log structure I had ever seen. It was sitting in the middle of the wilderness, looking quiet and natural but with a commanding presence.
We ditched our gear and went for a scope during the afternoon. The bad news was the 20 cm forecasted had shrunk to 3 cm, and we were coming off the March heat wave. The guides were kind enough to take us out anyway, despite jokes like ‘don’t bother unpacking your bags’ and words like ‘concrete’ being thrown around. Our forever-slimming hopes were kept alive by high north-facing slopes that still held some eligible snow. We had an unstoppable crew, good energy and three days of sun in the forecast so it was worth a shot.
The first morning saw us working in a small zone. The snow was fast and firm but supportive. It felt good to open up some speed in the alpine as the winter in BC had been relatively restrictive until then. We found our rhythm and skied a few fun features, playing with shadows and light as the sun dipped behind the North ridge. It was a pleasure to be bouncing ideas off Sam and Mark. They both have a different way of reading and interpreting terrain.
We stayed on the same ridge all day and found an impressive objective for the next morning. Retreating to the lodge in the afternoon, we were reasonably surprised with what we had found. Although there hadn’t been snow for weeks (apart from our friendly 3cm) the north-facing snow had survived the warm-up. It was tricky to manage speed and stick the landings but the crew found our mojo.
Anticipation was high to see what would be possible next. However, there was still a question mark around how things would play out for the week ahead due to lingering avalanche danger. A beautiful NE-facing wall with pillows and spines greeted us the next morning. It looked like it had been sprayed with a fresh coat of deep orange paint which dripped from the stacked features. The rich color was quickly fading as the sun began its daily journey, with no time to lose we all picked out a line and scrambled onto the sleds. Fifteen minutes later we were back at the bottom and ready for round two, followed by three, and four…As the shadows were cast over the ridge we packed a jump out for the afternoon.
With sore muscles and aching joints, I was anticipating a midnight seize but thanked the sauna as I dragged myself out of bed the following morning. Another clear day, not a breath of wind or cloud in sight. We decided to visit the notorious ‘vertebrae view’ zone. These lines are some of the classics at Chatter, blind, gnarly, and aesthetic. We were all a bit quiet as we put the skins on and the sun started to fill in the shadows on the lines.
There were only three main lines that went; it would be one try only… I took my time on the skin up, looking at the line from different angles. Fair to say I wasn’t sure if I was going to do it. I bid farewell to Kuch and Abma and carried on up the ridge. Reaching the top, I realized my bindings needed some tweaking as they were new skis, so I went about getting the settings dialed.
As I finished, Kuch was ready to go. I couldn’t see anything, but he didn’t take long to rip out the bottom, which got me stoked. Abma was next, again the 3…2…1… the next thing I saw was the sluff exploding on the runout, and I could hear the five-person crew cheering like Romans in a colosseum. I did my last checks, visualized the line another few times, and then made the call. I was good to go.
Easing into the top section I linked some turns on the panel above the no-fall zone. Then I spotted my markers, but all the small trees looked the same… Even being lost for a split second was enough for my mind to slip, doubt crept in, and my focus lapsed. I forced myself to keep moving forward toward the cliff and found another tree that regained my orientation just in time for the crux of the line. That’s when the variable snow started, I felt the ice immediately under my feet and tried to shut it out. I kept working down towards the spine which would eventually fall away, leaving me to land on a ribbon of snow that had formed on the cliff.
Two of the most intense and gripping turns of my life followed: one right and one left. I could feel every muscle in my body. My mind wasn’t working. I was a just passenger within, watching my body perform a series of critical moves on autopilot. It seemed that I could anticipate and act simultaneously. I was pulled over the edge and saw the ribbon of snow racing towards me as I pulled my skis underneath.
I touched down, rode out the ribbon, and felt a release of tension as my conscious mind took back over. It was a surreal experience, one for which I had the crew to thank. Without Abma and Kuch, I wouldn’t have had the inspiration, and without the guides and camera crew, I wouldn’t have felt safe. It was the most intimidating line I have ever skied and to share it with two good friends (who also skied some crazy lines) was surreal.
The joy and gratitude I felt for skiing, my life, friends and family is hard to describe, but it was as pure as emotions get.
We finished the day at the top of the neighboring ridge, with a sunset which turned into a beautiful full moon-rise. The next day the clouds came in, offering a welcome break, for our bodies and minds, but unfortunately not for the camera crew as we were heading to the ice caves. We spent three hours getting lost inside some of the most beautiful natural features I have ever seen. It felt like we went through a portal to a different world. It was the perfect end to the week.
For me, the trip reiterated that who you are surrounded by is far more important than any situational circumstance. While conditions weren’t in our favor, we squeezed everything out of the two zones and enjoyed every moment. It had been an incredible and transformational trip, not just in morale but mentality too.
