An Insider’s Look at the Realities of Living in Whistler
So, you did it! You made the decision to pack up all your belongings into a single bag—or three, depending on how much junk you have—and move to Whistler, British Columbia. Well, strap yourself in because it’s not all as it seems.
Having lived here for almost five years, I can admit it’s pretty great. Being able to ski-in and ski-out, literally from my front doorstep, is not something that I take for granted. World-renowned ski terrain, beautifully rugged mountain peaks and frozen lakes are all scattered throughout my own ‘backyard.’
Living in a ski town can be akin to living in a dream. You wake up each morning before work, kick-start your day with a hit of caffeine and watch the snow fall, precariously balancing itself on the pine trees outside. It also means that most days after a snowstorm, you can get out of bed early and be the first rider on the mountain to make the most of those fresh tracks—providing your company offers up that elusive 20-centimetre rule allowing you to skip work and head up the mountain on big pow days!
Living in a world-famous ski resort also means you’ll meet a diverse range of people—again, who’s complaining? You’ll find yourself making connections with people from all over the globe, learning about new cultures, languages and traditions whilst making lifetime friends in the process.
It all seems pretty great so far, right? But living here does come with its drawbacks and some things that you may never have even considered. Below, I’m going to take you through four key realities I’ve experienced while living in Whistler.
The Transient Life of Ski Towns
You might be thinking, ‘didn’t you just talk about diversity and how it can help you make friends for a lifetime?’ and yes, you’d be right. But one of the best things about living in a ski town can also be one of the worst. As I said, ski towns are extremely diverse, with hundreds of thousands of tourists and travellers passing through, some for a week and some for years. Initially, things couldn’t get better. You meet a radical group of friends that are all ski bums and just like you want to spend all their days riding and drinking $12 pitchers at your go-to aprés bar. Your days become filled with powder runs and park laps as well as way too many nights a week at ‘Garfs,’ resurfacing the next morning and crawling to work together. But as is the nature of ski towns, nothing lasts forever. Your cobbers from Australia and your pals from the UK will often leave. A bitter-sweet symphony of beers and tears but nonetheless, a true reality of living in Whistler.
Wait Times
When it comes to Whistler, one thing is inevitable: at some point, you’re going to have to wait in line. Thankfully, in Canada when it comes to lift lines, we have unwritten rules to our line systems, that for the most part, are obeyed. Nonetheless, there is nothing worse than getting to the bottom of Blackcomb Gondola an hour before the lift opens to find that you’re still the 896th person in line. That’s why most locals living here will either get up at 5 a.m. or 10 a.m.—there’s no in-between. But wait times don’t stop there. It’s not only on the mountain where you have to wait in line. When it comes to Whistler, surprisingly there are a number of tourists who don’t come to ski or snowboard. They come to enjoy the ‘atmosphere’ of a ski town, to ‘party’ or even just to eat out at overpriced restaurants. So, as a local if you’re looking to go up the mountain on a Saturday or planning on taking your partner out on a romantic dinner date over Presidents’ Day weekend, you might want to think twice—and this isn’t even the U.S.!
The Housing Crisis
Housing in Whistler can sometimes be compared to that of the living situation of caged hens. I know my first experience was! Picture it: a beautiful six-bed, three-bath home sitting at the foothills of your dream destination ski resort. Only to be packed with 26—yes, twenty-six—young and irrationally broke adults, just looking to make a living in a ski town. Now, you might think that 26 people sharing a house would make things cheap, but you are wrong. In another part of Canada—for example, Chilliwack—each of those 26 people might be able to afford a one-bedroom apartment to themselves, instead of sharing bunk beds and 10 people using the same bathroom. You might say that this is the cost of living in Whistler, but it shouldn’t be. These people are like blood to the hearts of the town and without them there’d be nothing. No lifts to access the mountain, no instructors to teach lessons, no restaurants to dine in. This is a reality of living in Whistler that is talked about a lot locally but is not discussed enough on a larger scale.
Employment
When it comes to Whistler, you might think that there is no shortage of employment, which can be true during busy winter periods. But what happens when the winter season’s over? When it’s not busy, some small local businesses can get hit pretty hard. In Whistler we’re fortunate that it’s just as busy in the summer as it is in the winter, but the shoulder seasons can get slow. You might get laid off or you might just get less work. Either way, it can be difficult finding a consistent and reliable job here.
As ski towns go, they’re usually pretty small and Whistler’s no different. Another issue with employment is that you can be very limited with the profession in which you want to work. This may be perfect for a certified tradesperson or someone working in the hospitality industry but if you’re looking to pursue a career in a more specific field of work, it can be highly competitive. This is why you might find your ski buddy Tom, who has a PhD in astrophysics, working as a dishwasher at your local Mexican restaurant.
The Trade Off
I feel that it would be ungrateful of me to say that life in Whistler is difficult. There are hardships that come with living in this slice of powdered paradise, but those who migrate to Whistler are prepared to sacrifice a certain way of living, all for the privilege to call this place home. Living in a ski town can be tricky but when the great Ullr brings us some snow, there is usually only one thing on everyone’s mind: ‘shredding the gnar.’
