8 reasons you need to see Quebec in the winter

1. Dogsledding

Take a tour through Quebec’s many wide-open wintry spaces with the friendliest tour guides around. One of Quebec’s original forms of transportation, dogsledding is now one of the funnest ways to explore the Canadian wilderness during the wintertime. 

You can learn how to drive a team of huskies as they pull your sled between trees and through the snow. They might look all cuddly and adorable, but these dogs can definitely pull more than your weight. Trying to use your own body weight to get them to stop or slow down is more of a vague suggestion than a command, but these huskies know what they’re doing with or without your help. And it’s clear the dogs are completely in their element, having a blast, and totally at ease in the environment. 

Keep reading.

8 reasons you need to see Quebec in the winter

1. Dogsledding

Take a tour through Quebec’s many wide-open wintry spaces with the friendliest tour guides around. One of Quebec’s original forms of transportation, dogsledding is now one of the funnest ways to explore the Canadian wilderness during the wintertime.

You can learn how to drive a team of huskies as they pull your sled between trees and through the snow. They might look all cuddly and adorable, but these dogs can definitely pull more than your weight. Trying to use your own body weight to get them to stop or slow down is more of a vague suggestion than a command, but these huskies know what they’re doing with or without your help. And it’s clear the dogs are completely in their element, having a blast, and totally at ease in the environment.

Keep reading.

Powder for Powder, ep. 5: Heli-skiing Haines, Alaska

AFTER SIX WEEKS ON THE ROAD in Alaska, finally heading south felt good. Yancy and I left Arctic Man wiped out and frozen from a week of below-zero days and Stouffer’s bagged stir-frys. We had planned our last stop in Haines before we left home, but had been holding our breath for the stars to actually align. We’d heard from friends about the “knife fight” at the heli-pad, but a call from fellow Matador Ambassador Will Wissman with Stellar Media confirmed they were still holding spots for us. 

Haines is arguably the best place in the world for heli-skiing. I’ve been there four out of the past five spring seasons and each year somehow seem to score the best runs of my life while enjoying the relaxed small town atmosphere by the sea. Haines is a fishing town that has a certain mountain energy and vibrancy. Most of the town welcomes the heli community and acknowledges the business it brings to the harbor, which was recently cut off as a cruise ship stop during the economic recession. 

I was most fired up this year to share the experience with my brother and live vicariously through his first time getting “towed in” to fragile cornices and steep spine walls. After a weeklong storm, we lucked into a code blue scenario with a relatively stable snowpack, just in time for the last and best weeks of the heli season. We lifted at 6am, and immediately it was go time as our guide, Reggie Crist, and cameraman, Will Wissman, proposed a challenging first line. The zone called Dick’s Picks demands a rider to remember exactly where he’s going because of natural blind rollovers on the face, a very common Alaskan terrain issue and one you don’t want to get wrong. I didn’t doubt for a second that Yancy would step up and slay a nasty line choice with style and confidence. He did just that with first drop, and his first ever filmed Alaskan line. The session was on!

More photos.

Powder for Powder, ep. 5: Heli-skiing Haines, Alaska

AFTER SIX WEEKS ON THE ROAD in Alaska, finally heading south felt good. Yancy and I left Arctic Man wiped out and frozen from a week of below-zero days and Stouffer’s bagged stir-frys. We had planned our last stop in Haines before we left home, but had been holding our breath for the stars to actually align. We’d heard from friends about the “knife fight” at the heli-pad, but a call from fellow Matador Ambassador Will Wissman with Stellar Media confirmed they were still holding spots for us.

Haines is arguably the best place in the world for heli-skiing. I’ve been there four out of the past five spring seasons and each year somehow seem to score the best runs of my life while enjoying the relaxed small town atmosphere by the sea. Haines is a fishing town that has a certain mountain energy and vibrancy. Most of the town welcomes the heli community and acknowledges the business it brings to the harbor, which was recently cut off as a cruise ship stop during the economic recession.

I was most fired up this year to share the experience with my brother and live vicariously through his first time getting “towed in” to fragile cornices and steep spine walls. After a weeklong storm, we lucked into a code blue scenario with a relatively stable snowpack, just in time for the last and best weeks of the heli season. We lifted at 6am, and immediately it was go time as our guide, Reggie Crist, and cameraman, Will Wissman, proposed a challenging first line. The zone called Dick’s Picks demands a rider to remember exactly where he’s going because of natural blind rollovers on the face, a very common Alaskan terrain issue and one you don’t want to get wrong. I didn’t doubt for a second that Yancy would step up and slay a nasty line choice with style and confidence. He did just that with first drop, and his first ever filmed Alaskan line. The session was on!

More photos.

Powder for Powder, ep. 4: Arctic Man

ARCTIC MAN was officially a go when I got a voicemail from Anchorage sled driver Spike Laskey at 6am. His message reassured us that all we needed to do was pull the trigger: “Hey this is Spike…I’m on my out there right now, not sure if I’ll have service, but yeah I’ll toss you a rope and tow you up a fucking hill if you want…” Click. I remembered Nate Holland’s shit-eating grin a while back when he told me that he knew just the driver for me.

Wyatt and I had done our time on Thompson Pass and were ready to move on. Although it was crushing snow in the parking lot and a full reset was probable, we wanted new scenery and stimulation, plus Nate and old pal Jayson Hale had guaranteed it wouldn’t be hard to find amazing snowboarding terrain in the Hoodoo Mountains. A quick stop in Glennallen for some Tok Thai and fireworks, and we were set for another week off the grid in eastern Alaska.

Arctic Man is held every year just outside Summit Lake, more or less in the middle of nowhere, to the northeast of Wrangell-St. Elias National Park. Now in its 28th year, the Tesoro Arctic Man Classic is a competitive backcountry race comprising a few dozen teams of skier/snowmachiner and snowboarder/snowmachiner. The skier begins at “The Tip,” with a summit elevation of 5,800 and a vertical drop of 1,700 feet in less than two miles to the bottom of a narrow canyon — riders go from zero to fast in a hurry. When the slope levels out, the snowmobiler meets the skier, on the go, with a tow rope and pulls the skier 2 1/4 miles uphill at speeds of up to 86mph. The skier and the snowmobile then separate, sending the skier over the “First Aid” jump and down another 1,200ft pitch to the finish line. Courage, training, and a well-tuned stock 600rpm sled are essential elements for a successful team.

Continue.

Powder for Powder, ep. 4: Arctic Man

ARCTIC MAN was officially a go when I got a voicemail from Anchorage sled driver Spike Laskey at 6am. His message reassured us that all we needed to do was pull the trigger: “Hey this is Spike…I’m on my out there right now, not sure if I’ll have service, but yeah I’ll toss you a rope and tow you up a fucking hill if you want…” Click. I remembered Nate Holland’s shit-eating grin a while back when he told me that he knew just the driver for me.

Wyatt and I had done our time on Thompson Pass and were ready to move on. Although it was crushing snow in the parking lot and a full reset was probable, we wanted new scenery and stimulation, plus Nate and old pal Jayson Hale had guaranteed it wouldn’t be hard to find amazing snowboarding terrain in the Hoodoo Mountains. A quick stop in Glennallen for some Tok Thai and fireworks, and we were set for another week off the grid in eastern Alaska.

Arctic Man is held every year just outside Summit Lake, more or less in the middle of nowhere, to the northeast of Wrangell-St. Elias National Park. Now in its 28th year, the Tesoro Arctic Man Classic is a competitive backcountry race comprising a few dozen teams of skier/snowmachiner and snowboarder/snowmachiner. The skier begins at “The Tip,” with a summit elevation of 5,800 and a vertical drop of 1,700 feet in less than two miles to the bottom of a narrow canyon — riders go from zero to fast in a hurry. When the slope levels out, the snowmobiler meets the skier, on the go, with a tow rope and pulls the skier 2 1/4 miles uphill at speeds of up to 86mph. The skier and the snowmobile then separate, sending the skier over the “First Aid” jump and down another 1,200ft pitch to the finish line. Courage, training, and a well-tuned stock 600rpm sled are essential elements for a successful team.

Continue.

Powder for Powder, ep. 4: Arctic Man

ARCTIC MAN was officially a go when I got a voicemail from Anchorage sled driver Spike Laskey at 6am. His message reassured us that all we needed to do was pull the trigger: “Hey this is Spike…I’m on my out there right now, not sure if I’ll have service, but yeah I’ll toss you a rope and tow you up a fucking hill if you want…” Click. I remembered Nate Holland’s shit-eating grin a while back when he told me that he knew just the driver for me.

Wyatt and I had done our time on Thompson Pass and were ready to move on. Although it was crushing snow in the parking lot and a full reset was probable, we wanted new scenery and stimulation, plus Nate and old pal Jayson Hale had guaranteed it wouldn’t be hard to find amazing snowboarding terrain in the Hoodoo Mountains. A quick stop in Glennallen for some Tok Thai and fireworks, and we were set for another week off the grid in eastern Alaska.

Arctic Man is held every year just outside Summit Lake, more or less in the middle of nowhere, to the northeast of Wrangell-St. Elias National Park. Now in its 28th year, the Tesoro Arctic Man Classic is a competitive backcountry race comprising a few dozen teams of skier/snowmachiner and snowboarder/snowmachiner. The skier begins at “The Tip,” with a summit elevation of 5,800 and a vertical drop of 1,700 feet in less than two miles to the bottom of a narrow canyon — riders go from zero to fast in a hurry. When the slope levels out, the snowmobiler meets the skier, on the go, with a tow rope and pulls the skier 2 1/4 miles uphill at speeds of up to 86mph. The skier and the snowmobile then separate, sending the skier over the “First Aid” jump and down another 1,200ft pitch to the finish line. Courage, training, and a well-tuned stock 600rpm sled are essential elements for a successful team.

Continue.

Powder for Powder, ep. 4: Arctic Man

ARCTIC MAN was officially a go when I got a voicemail from Anchorage sled driver Spike Laskey at 6am. His message reassured us that all we needed to do was pull the trigger: “Hey this is Spike…I’m on my out there right now, not sure if I’ll have service, but yeah I’ll toss you a rope and tow you up a fucking hill if you want…” Click. I remembered Nate Holland’s shit-eating grin a while back when he told me that he knew just the driver for me.

Wyatt and I had done our time on Thompson Pass and were ready to move on. Although it was crushing snow in the parking lot and a full reset was probable, we wanted new scenery and stimulation, plus Nate and old pal Jayson Hale had guaranteed it wouldn’t be hard to find amazing snowboarding terrain in the Hoodoo Mountains. A quick stop in Glennallen for some Tok Thai and fireworks, and we were set for another week off the grid in eastern Alaska.

Arctic Man is held every year just outside Summit Lake, more or less in the middle of nowhere, to the northeast of Wrangell-St. Elias National Park. Now in its 28th year, the Tesoro Arctic Man Classic is a competitive backcountry race comprising a few dozen teams of skier/snowmachiner and snowboarder/snowmachiner. The skier begins at “The Tip,” with a summit elevation of 5,800 and a vertical drop of 1,700 feet in less than two miles to the bottom of a narrow canyon — riders go from zero to fast in a hurry. When the slope levels out, the snowmobiler meets the skier, on the go, with a tow rope and pulls the skier 2 1/4 miles uphill at speeds of up to 86mph. The skier and the snowmobile then separate, sending the skier over the “First Aid” jump and down another 1,200ft pitch to the finish line. Courage, training, and a well-tuned stock 600rpm sled are essential elements for a successful team.

Continue.

11 epic winter adventures in Utah that don’t require a lift ticket
4. Get airlifted to the slopes. 
Wasatch Powder Guides runs heli-ski (or snowboard) tours directly from Snowbird or Canyons resorts, which means you can hop in a helicopter as soon as the resorts get tracked out to be shuttled to another few thousand square miles of never-been-touched dry Utah pow. WPG tours average about 30,000 vertical feet per day, rarely repeating a line for 7 hours straight, and has permits to air-drop you at the best spots (they choose terrain based on your personal ability levels and whims) in the Wasatch and Uintas.
For the non-ballers out there, cat-skiing is usually less than half the price, but is just as convenient, feels almost as fancy, and still gives you all kinds of bragging rights to your friends back home. Park City Powder Cats operates out of Thousand Peaks Ranch, where they’ve cordoned off their own “private ski resort” that’s bigger than Whistler, Vail, Mammoth, and Snowbird combined. They cover their 40,000 acres of terrain in fancy, heated, 10-seat snowcats, where you can thaw out and grab some snacks between runs. A snack-wagon to powder-filled bowls, epic tree runs through the aspens, and steep lines of unbroken powder? Absolutely worth doing at least once in your life.
Read more.

11 epic winter adventures in Utah that don’t require a lift ticket

4. Get airlifted to the slopes.

Wasatch Powder Guides runs heli-ski (or snowboard) tours directly from Snowbird or Canyons resorts, which means you can hop in a helicopter as soon as the resorts get tracked out to be shuttled to another few thousand square miles of never-been-touched dry Utah pow. WPG tours average about 30,000 vertical feet per day, rarely repeating a line for 7 hours straight, and has permits to air-drop you at the best spots (they choose terrain based on your personal ability levels and whims) in the Wasatch and Uintas.

For the non-ballers out there, cat-skiing is usually less than half the price, but is just as convenient, feels almost as fancy, and still gives you all kinds of bragging rights to your friends back home. Park City Powder Cats operates out of Thousand Peaks Ranch, where they’ve cordoned off their own “private ski resort” that’s bigger than Whistler, Vail, Mammoth, and Snowbird combined. They cover their 40,000 acres of terrain in fancy, heated, 10-seat snowcats, where you can thaw out and grab some snacks between runs. A snack-wagon to powder-filled bowls, epic tree runs through the aspens, and steep lines of unbroken powder? Absolutely worth doing at least once in your life.

Read more.