TOP TO BOTTOM With the help of a friendly cat, Émile Bergeron sessions a backwoods butter pad in Murdochville, QC. Once a copper-mining town, Murdochville has reinvented itself as a backcountry ski destination during the last decade. Laurent Bilodeau tries to stay warm near Mont York, QC. A THIN LAYER of fresh snow covered an omnipresent crust. It had been a poor snow season for the East Coast, with strong heat waves during the holiday season melting snowpacks before cold Arctic blasts froze hills solid. L’Anse-Saint-Jean was the group’s second stop on their mission. The first, in Le Valinouet near Lac-Saint-Jean, had been a bust, with most lines shut down due to yo-yoing weather conditions. Now, Casabon, Bergeron and crew hoped for better around Mont Édouard. The ice-covered ridge that we traveled upon was bordered by an infinite sea of dense trees along the Secteur des Géants area rising from the Mont Édouard backcountry. The rhythmic clapping of boots against tech heel pieces broke the morning silence. Following Gab Levesque, a local ski guide in the winter and lumberjack come summer, gave the group a quiet confi-dence. Tall and sporting a red beard, Levesque had promised powder, and few other folks were around to ski it. Between branches we could see the five other summits; rolling peaks covered with fall-line glades and cliffs, its canvas protected from the wind by a thick maze of deciduous trunks and limbs. The Saguenay region, where Mont Édouard tops out at 2,076 feet, is known for its surprisingly good conditions by East Coast standards. Each year the surrounding mountains receive 236 inches of snow, the result of cold northern winds spinning off major water sources like Lac-Saint-Jean and its eastern fjord that links the 30-mile-long body of water to the massive Saint Lawrence River. But getting to the snow can be hard around here. Saguenay is home to one of Canada’s biggest forestry operations—an industry driven by extensive and tightly woven spruce forests. These trees, while beautiful, stand so close together that a ski or a human might be able to slide through, but rarely both. The only way to find good lines here is to cut them yourself— something the Mont Edouard community has done for the last 10 years. It started when the tiny ski resort didn’t have budget to fix its two chairlifts and attract clientele. That’s when volunteers proposed going back to basics, giving birth to a human-powered uphill movement. About 2009, they built the Secteur Sacré-Coeur, a simple bootpack to access 630 vertical feet of glades. Then, off the back of the ski area, lumberjacks like Levesque carved out more tree lines, and skiers from across the east came to the hill to see some of Quebec’s home-hewn secrets. After reaching the summit, Levesque led the way to a hidden cliff area midway down 950 vertical feet of glades. While the freeskiers might have been out of their element on the climb, this takeoff made sense. In fact, the whole mountain offered an array of natural features, a near-private backcountry terrain park. Even with a thin snowpack, it was full of possibilities. Casabon quietly found an opening between a large cedar and a tiny spruce, followed by a 20-foot drop. “Don’t you think the landing is a little bit flat?” Bergeron asked. Casabon’s used to landing on flat concrete. He gave a shrug, then pointed it off the ledge, knocking spruce branches loose mid-flight before landing in a pillow of white. With every snow-covered rock a takeoff and each stump a launch ramp, the group’s imagination took over, and they applied the style they’d de-veloped in the park and street to gnarled timber. “What’s crazy around here is how you have possibilities with every aspect. There are so many places for new lines and new ways to see the actual line,” Levesque said. Hidden beyond a rock structure at the end of another access track, he turned a corner into an invisible entrance. “There’s always secret lines,” he continued. “But for those, you need to be with the lumberjack who designs it. Follow me.” He flashed a smile and led the way to a skinny cut between trees. It would have been impossible to find without the mak-er’s direction (and blessing), and it held 30 inches of fresh snow. Bergeron slashed a deep turn and then another before the crew followed suit. Deep in the timber, the Prospecteurs had struck white gold. Quebec 067
The Ski Journal Volume 15, Issue 2: Page 67
