We’re on an early break ahead of a strange peloton as we roll slowly up the Pemberton Meadows through some of British Columbia’s most fertile farmland. Ours is a mixed group of two couples pedaling a cruiser, hardtail, cyclocross bike, and tricked-out carbon roadster. We bypass the farm tours and culinary stands—for now—to stay ahead of the pack. Thirty minutes to the south in Whistler, the freeride mountain bike festival known as Crankworx is drawing a different crowd. But here in Pemberton, Canada’s fastest growing mountain town famous for its backcountry ski terrain, the goal is to drift through verdant agricultural land and sample the locally grown beet salad.
The community (about 3,000 residents) is still closely tied to Whistler—70 percent of household income comes from the Whistler tourism economy—but Pemberton has resisted the typical transformation into ski-town suburbia. There are no culde-sacs paving over its rurality. Again, the reason has to do with Pemberton’s farming heritage. Rich soil, unlimited glacierfed irrigation, and hot summers make for profitable farming both for commercial export and farmer’s markets. Also credit Canada’s Agricultural Land Reserve Act, which prevents unchecked subdivision of farmland.
Add to that an unintended marketing campaign courtesy of film crews like Teton Gravity Research and Matchstick Productions, which started making regular stops for snowmobile assisted skiing. The footage of untapped access and big terrain attracted seasoned athletes looking for a place to settle down and start families. Many of them—like snowboard photographer Chris Ankeny who first came to Pemberton from Bozeman, Montana—were introduced to the town after coming for the cheap heli-ski drops on Mount Currie. “There’s nowhere else you can get runs like that right from the valley,” says Ankeny. “I came to the realization that if there was a dream spot to live, this was it.”
Back on our bikes weaving through the happy masses, we stop to pull some river-cooled Kokanees from the Lillooet River to wash down a pile of grass-finished beef burgers. (Naturally, the profits of the burger stand benefit the local search and rescue.) We take in the panoramic views and watch the eclectic stream roll by. The roadway is packed with chariot-toting families, greybeards on antique bikes, hippie girls with basketfuls of produce, and slowmoving snowboarders pedaling eight-inch DH bikes through the 90-degree heat.
Suddenly, Slow Food Cycle feels less like a movement for local, organic farming, and more like a community celebrating a rediscovered agricultural identity. But from my perspective,
surrounded by the towering ice-capped peaks, and well fed on local fare, Pemberton just seems like the perfect place for a skier to put down roots.
