While the Peak 2 Peak is undeniably the crown jewel of the resort’s lift system, the 7th Heaven chairlift on Blackcomb is the diamond in the rough. The lift transports summertime skiers, snowboarders, and anyone craving a killer lookout point 7,494 feet up the mountain to Hortsman Glacier. If you take a spin on the lift, be sure to bring a thermal jacket, gloves, and perhaps a scarf. The climate on the glacier is considerably cooler than in the village, where the average high temperature is in the 70s.
When the gondolas shut down at night, crowds descend on the village’s 90 restaurants, pubs, and cafes to savor the day’s adventures. We slid into a high-backed white leather booth at the Mountain Club, a rustic log-hewn lounge. On the waitress’s recommendation, we ordered a round of Goggle Tan cocktails—Grey Goose vodka, ginger liqueur, cilantro, aloe juice, and fresh lime, rimmed with cayenne pepper—followed by porcini-dusted scallops and other delectable Pacific Northwest–inspired dishes.
By 11 the following morning, powered by the legendary cinnamon buns from Hot Buns Bakery, I stood harnessed and helmeted on a wooden platform 200 feet above Fitzsimmons Creek. A guide with the eco-tour company Ziptrek stood near the platform’s edge waving me forward. Another tourist, a kinsman from my native Texas, said in passing, “Kick your legs up, lock them around the rope and go upside down.” Following his directions, I stepped off the platform and flew, upside down, across a 1,100-foot cable at a speed I can only describe as really, really fast.
The rush from the three-hour zip-line tour still lingered that evening as I surveyed the flurry of activity at the elegant Bearfoot Bistro. A jovial bunch sipped bubbly at the pewter bar in the Champagne Lounge. Another group outfitted in parkas ventured into the ice room, an arctic cavern serving 50 different vodkas. Around the dining room, patrons washed down bites of wild caribou loin and gnocchi swimming in crab bisque with vintages from the 23,000-bottle cellar. As I took in the scene, I couldn’t help but think that when it comes to summertime gorging done right, those marmots have nothing on us.
Published: August 2010
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