Pro Guiding Service - The Many Meanings of Skoki

The kerosene lamp sheds golden light over the varnished spruce logs of the lodge as I question the two 84-year-old men who are re-visiting this backcountry haunt and who, in 1936, were actually employed to schlepp supplies in here. When I ask them how the lodge got its rather unusual name, Sam is quick to say, "Skoki is the native word for boggy meadow."

The explanation makes sense. Many of the valley bottoms here between the 10,000-foot peaks of Banff National Park are flat. They provide skiers with a white, wintertime freeway through the laminated mountains, but many are undoubtedly bug-infested marshes come summer.

"Get off it," Ken interrupts. "Some of the first guests to visit the hut when it opened in 1931 were from Skoki, Illinois. They gave it the name."

As I jot notes in my reporter's notebook, my peripheral vision catches Sam and Ken sharing a mischievous wink. I take another sip of Cougar's Breath (a Skoki special made of rum, condensed milk, and nutmeg) and decide the leg-pulling going on here may be making me NBA ready.

The truth of the matter is that Skoki is probably the native word for "fool journalist." As such, I employ the privilege of explaining just what that word means to a journalist. For starters, Skoki carries with it a connotation of history. The main lodge and its satellite cabins have housed ski tourers for 66 years and, having preceded all other ski areas and huts in the Banff-Jasper environs, could be considered the epicenter of the skiing tradition in this famous Canadian alcove. As early as 1931, adventurous winter visitors were reaching Lake Louise by train and skiing the 13-mile trail to the lodge (Note: roads have shortened that approach to 6.5 miles).

Now, the men I'm talking to, the hand-hewn log walls, the antique skis and snowshoes hanging from those walls, the absence of electricity and running water, the old furniture fashioned from local spruce, the musty books, and the old visitor's logs with their yellowed pages all represent parts of this history.

But Skoki isn't just a point of historical interest. Visitors still feel its vitality. That's why Sam, Ken, and scores of other skiers return year after year. Put these visitors all together and you've got a diverse lot. Some are eroded-looking gray hairs wearing knickers, others buffed-bodied orange hairs preferring Lycra. Some tote tele gear that's beefy enough to pound nails, others arrive on light-touring splinters.

But when you eat elbow to elbow with this lot (a cuisine the Brit in our lot proclaimed to be, excuse the Queen's English, "f---ing awesome") you're not strangers for long. You debate politics, social issues, ethics, and, of course, the National Inquirer's revelation that Elvis, during his hamburger-flipping years, slept with aliens to father...Ross Perot?

"Couldn't have," some profess, "Perot is older than Elvis."

"Exactly, that's how we know aliens were involved."

After a few hours you've got the Perot issue under control and you've solved such problems as how to downscale government, initiate welfare reform, and protect endangered resources. All of which has you reshaping the assumptions you formed when you first arrived at the lodge and confronted 20 unfamiliar faces. At that instant you thought your BIG problem was whether you could share the surrounding 25 square miles with these gluttons who had eyes on YOUR powder.

Conversation and Cougar's Breath, however, bring you to the realization that the real problem is that you live in a world where 5 billion people have NOT been privy to the kind of backwoods enlightenment the 20 of you share.

Of course while history and fellow visitors are integral to Skoki, the place is first and foremost about skiing. And there's plenty of it. The light-touring crowd will need four days to adequately explore the valleys, meadows, and lake basins below Skoki Mountain, Cyclone Mountain, Pipestone Mountain, and Oyster Peak.

Telemarkers will find enough intermediate terrain on the slopes around Zigadenus Lake, Merlin Ridge, Deception Pass, and Skoki Mountain to keep them whine-free for at least four days. They'll also see plenty of gnarly slopes dropping off the Wall of Jericho, Cyclone Mountain, and Fossil Mountain. Unfortunately, given the unhealthy helping of temperature gradient snow that typically contaminates Banff's snowpack, extreme stupidity is a prerequisite for venturing onto extreme steeps.

As Sam and Ken know, moderation has it rewards. At age 84 they're not only alive, they're still outskiing the fool journalists who come to sample their bog.

Details, Details

Skoki operates in winter from December 20 to April 19. Cost is $110/person (Canadian) for the first night, $94/person (Canadian) for additional nights. Price includes private room, bedding, three meals, transportation from the Fish Creek parking lot to the trailhead. In the European style of hut skiing, visitors can arrive with a light pack, carrying only their clothing, toiletries, and safety essentials. With beds in the main lodge and in adjacent cabins, Skoki can accommodate 22 guests. For more information, call 403-522-3555.