When a Tahoe skier ventures to Whistler Blackcomb to experience the famed Spearhead Traverse, he finds living quarters and fresh snow that exceed expectations

Socked in a cloud along the Spearhead Traverse, photo by Brennan Lagasse

We’re socked in, stuck in a cloud, with visibility only a few feet at best. It’s snowing, and we’re lined up for a long tour. Rocks give us a slight sense of depth, but it’s too hard to see cracks and subtle undulations in the glaciation ahead. A wrong move could turn our adventure into an epic. 

It feels like the ceiling might open up, unleashing far more snow than projected. Experience has taught me the virtues of patience, and even though it’s dubious at best to fully trust high-alpine weather predictions, we’re committed. Waiting for a break in the storm is the right decision. 

Fortunately, my two partners and I are aligned. There is a shared understanding of the task at hand, the danger attached to moving in haste and the willingness to pause for the right time. In moments like these, a few minutes can feel like a few hours.

That is, until the snow slowly stops falling, the ceiling starts to lift and visibility improves. 

In a flash we go from an eerie calmness to a fire drill. Ryan DeLena drops into the deepest pitch of the tour. All goes quiet as we watch him transition from tight turns to open arcs, throwing in a few hollers of joy for good measure. Mike Krisinger and I share a smile, recognizing the sound as an indicator of good snow. 

We’re certainly getting more than we bargained for with the weather, but now, the abundance is in the form of exceptional skiing.

Mapping Out an Adventure

On my first visit to Whistler as a grom in 2000, I heard story after story about an alpine traverse that, according to most every dedicated skier, was nothing short of world-class. Traverses weren’t really my thing then, and truthfully still aren’t, but the idea of experiencing the renowned Spearhead Traverse stayed with me.  

Late last May, DeLena and I schemed to get back to Canada. The year prior we found ourselves on a dream trip to Baffin Island. Realizing whatever we chose wouldn’t touch that level of a trip, the allure of hitting a good weather window in the great Coast Range of British Columbia was enough for us to rally. 

Then I remembered an old friend from Tahoe had moved to the area a few years ago. Anyone who shops at the Tahoe City Safeway has likely engaged with George “Skippy” Wilson at some point. A consistent figure at Safeway and on the slopes and skin tracks around Tahoe, Wilson had the vision to balance his ski-centric life with travel. One day he’d be checking you out at the register, another day he had just returned from the Himalaya. As down to earth and humble as they come, Wilson represents the true roots spirit of the ski bum so many of us hold dear to our hearts. 

I didn’t know if Wilson was still in Whistler, but I intended to find out when we got there.

DeLena and I met up in Vancouver. The logistics to reach Whistler, the largest ski resort in North America with over 8,000 acres, are easy. From the Vancouver airport, buses take skiers and riders directly to slope-side or adjacent mountain accommodations. We opted to rent a car to remain as flexible as possible given the unreliable weather that frequents the Coast Range in spring.  

The scenery is diverse on the two-hour drive from the airport to Whistler Village as you move from the urban chic of downtown Vancouver to the famous Sea-to-Sky Highway. The latter is lined with beautiful mixed conifers, views of the Howe Sound Ocean fjord and signs in both English and Squamish (or “Sḵwx̱wú7mesh”). The relaxing drive is a great way to reset after a long flight. 

Unless, of course, you’re hustling to nail what appears to be the best weather window of the coming week.  

To the Spearhead

Just a couple of hours off the plane and DeLena and I had all our gear sprawled out in the parking lot of Wilson’s apartment. We were confident if we could catch a late gondola ride, and ultimately the last lift before 4 p.m., we’d make it to the hut before dark.

Wilson was busy at work, not surprisingly, at the local grocery store. It was a bummer not to see him, but just as a pro ski bum friend would do, he left us a key to his place and a parking pass for our car.

Understanding the balance of moving as quickly as possible, but not so fast that we forget something crucial, we unpacked and repacked, stashed extra stuff in Wilson’s apartment and headed over to the gondola a short walk away.     

We stood out, for sure. Our packs were too much, and it was late May. Most people were casually cruising around with only a few days left until the mountain closed. A bonus of our intended adventure was the ability to use the Whistler lift system by purchasing a backcountry ticket that yields efficient access to the resort boundary line, where it’s then a relatively casual ski and skin over to the Kees and Claire Memorial Hut. 

We made the gondola and wasted no time getting to the classic Peak Chair—Whistler’s version of KT-22. There was only one problem. The chair closed at 3 p.m. A bit deflated, we chatted through some options before throwing on our skins and heading uphill. We figured we might not reach the hut before dark, but that would be good enough. 

Soon after, ski patrol buzzed up on a snowmachine.

“Sorry,” he said, “you can’t skin inbounds when the resort is closed.”   

After explaining our predicament, the patroller was understanding, but not enough to turn a blind eye. The story gets hazy from here, but let’s just say we figured it out without incident. However, for those planning this adventure, make sure you can catch the Harmony or Peak chairs before they close, which will set you up for a less stealthy approach to the hut.

Hut of Luxe

Connecting Whistler and Blackcomb, the Spearhead is a true classic. Traversing its way for over 20 miles, across 13 glaciers and over nine passes, the route is typically done as a three-day, two-night outing. That said, the fastest known time going from the base of Blackcomb to Whistler Village (without lift support) is 6 hours and 27 minutes. But why rush?  

The exterior of the Kees and Claire Memorial Hut, photo by Reid Madiuk, courtesy Spearhead Huts Society

Our plan was to use the lifts on the Whistler side, spend a night at the hut and finish the rest of the route in a push the following day. 

The Kees and Claire Memorial Hut is a relatively new addition to the route, opening to backcountry travelers in 2019. It seemed a bonus when researching the traverse. We weighed our options, from experiencing it all in a single push to devoting more time to set up camps as we toured.

After finding our way to the resort boundary and skiing off toward the hut around 5 p.m., we enjoyed a few nice turns and a vibrant sunset before arriving at twilight. 

I was immediately taken aback. Having experienced some incredible huts in other parts of the world, this felt more like a proper lodge than a quaint shelter. The kitchen was spacious, with big windows looking out to the mountains, and was stocked with every item you could want to prepare a meal. There are 38 bunks with sleeping mats, propane-fueled heat and waste-separating toilets that exemplify the extremely well-thought-out design of the hut.  

Alex, the hutkeeper, gave us a brief intro upon arrival. Knowing it was late, he kept it short and sweet, but it was obvious from his tour that he was proud to be a part of such a special place. We were lucky to see the sunset that night, as clouds covered most of our vantage earlier in the day. 

We had the option to extend another night, and all signs pointed to that being the best call. The decision would also allow Mike Krisinger, Wilson’s friend from Vancouver, to join us the following day. Wilson had mentioned he had a friend who would ski with us if we were willing, and we were happy to meet him. 

The Kees and Claire Memorial Hut features a spacious kitchen and dining area with views, photo by Reid Madiuk, courtesy Spearhead Huts Society

The next morning it was snowing. On trend with the forecast, the weather made for a casual start to the day and a chance to hang out with Alex a bit more. He offered us a full, proper tour, which became an unexpected highlight of the trip. 

The immediate wow factor upon arrival was real, but walking around the premises, learning how the building came to be and the future of two similar huts being built along route was captivating. Alex was fired up to tell the story, reminding me of the stoke shared by mountain people across the globe when showing off the beauty of their backyards.

Snow fell steadily throughout most of the day. DeLena and I eventually went out for a few short laps of storm skiing, enjoying low-angled powder turns close to the hut. 

By the time we started thinking about dinner, the first wave of newcomers began arriving. The night before, it was only DeLena, me, Alex and one other visitor. By bedtime on this night the hut had reached capacity. One of those new visitors was Krisinger. After another round of weather sleuthing, we planned to be up in the dark the next morning, skiing with sunrise. 

The Cap to an Epic Adventure

We knew we’d have to deal with some weather at some point, but we also had confidence in figuring out the safest, best way to tour from the hut and eventually make it to Blackcomb in a push.  

Another useful note on the tour is most groups choose to start at Blackcomb and end at Whistler. Our choice was to go in reverse since Blackcomb had closed for the season, which meant we could use the Whistler lift system to access the hut. Had Blackcomb been open, I’m not sure we would’ve chosen to go the other direction, as omitting the hut from the adventure would have been a major miss.

When the weather cleared, conditions were prime during a May trip to the Spearhead Traverse, photo by Brennan Lagasse

We weren’t sure how much it had snowed the day before, but it’s safe to say none of us anticipated skiing so much
high-quality powder. Across each glacier, up and over each pass, the skiing was phenomenal. Everywhere we looked another side tour called. Not one step felt wasted. Every turn was earned and exceptional. 

It wasn’t without effort though, as delays waiting out a few micro storms and milking some extra turns here and there got us to Blackcomb around sunset. That fact didn’t matter in the slightest, as we shared in that priceless feeling you sometimes get in the mountains when the experience so far exceeds expectations that you genuinely feel it couldn’t have gone any better. 

Entering Blackcomb, a slim strip of snow allowed us to keep skis on to the mid-station of the gondola. Not having a vehicle stationed in Blackcomb meant we’d need a taxi or Uber for a ride back to Wilson’s place, but being late May, we first had to hike a few miles through a temperate rainforest to the parking lot. 

When we arrived around midnight, there was Wilson! No need to crux out for a ride when your friend is there waiting. I would have never asked, but what an ending to an epic day. And while the ride was beyond clutch for our tired feet, Wilson also had hot food waiting for us back at his place.  

We caught Whistler’s closing with Wilson the next day and paired it with the opening of the resort’s renowned bike park. 

It’s never easy to leave the Sierra, especially come May when the high country is commonly at its peak, but venturing from home to experience the Spearhead Traverse was well worth the time and effort.  

In fact, if you go, you’ll want to allow more time than you think to fully enjoy the Kees and Claire Memorial Hut, which stands out as a truly world-class mountain shelter along a timeless ski route.

Brennan Lagasse is an avid backcountry skier and assistant professor at University of Nevada, Reno at Lake Tahoe. Check out more of his writing, ski guiding and nonprofit educational work at stateofthebackcountry.com.