Paul Wetmore takes his skiing seriously, not to mention fast and fresh. The investment advisor with CIBC Wood Gundy in Vancouver is an avid cat skier who tackles remote, untouched slopes.
“You go to places,” says Wetmore, “[that] the ordinary public doesn’t have access to.”
Cat skiing is the on-the-ground equivalent of heli-skiing, Wetmore explains. In the latter pursuit, you’re dropped on a mountain by a helicopter. In the former, grooming machines that resemble large tanks — normally used on regular ski hills — are transformed into cross-country transport that can comfortably hold 12 people and go where few skiers have gone before.
Making the trek is worth what awaits, says Wetmore: “It’s the allure of riding fresh powder. On the West Coast, that’s what we live for.”
The allure comes with some peril, however. “It’s more dangerous [than skiing on traditional ski trails],” says Wetmore. “You’re in an area that is not necessarily patrolled and avalanche-bombed.”
Once a year, Wetmore and his pals spend a week cat skiing near Revelstoke, B.C., along with a trained guide. “It’s my favourite place in the world,” says Wetmore, formerly a linebacker with the B.C. Lions of the Canadian Football League. “It feels like home.”
It’s also a skier’s nirvana. “We like to think of [cat skiing] as more of an art form,” says Wetmore. “It’s chest-deep snow. It’s very pristine.”
But the experience is about more than just skiing. “It definitely clears your mind,” says Wetmore. “This job is very demanding, especially over the past year. It’s a way to re-centre yourself. It’s an amazing place to be. You really feel one with nature.”
Wetmore’s interest in cat skiing began in the early 1990s, when the native of Nova Scotia, now 45 years old, was playing professional football in Vancouver. He created the B.C. Lions Ski Team, which consisted of teammates who would travel to different ski hills to raise money for charity. At one ski show, Wetmore had met a man who was cat skiing out of Revelstoke. After that, cat skiing became part of Wetmore’s life.
Athletics have always been important to Wetmore. As an undergraduate at Acadia University in Wolfville, N.S., he played on its football team. Professional football followed. (It was while Wetmore was with the CFL that he became a financial advisor: “The CFL contract then [stated] they could only have you four and a half hours a day.”)
When Wetmore left the CFL, however, he left football behind for good. “Once you drop it, you drop it,” he says. “The day I walked away was the last day I put pads on.”
But Wetmore’s desire to compete and to stay fit did not end with his football career. “Being physically active,” he says, “makes me feel better.”
And cat skiing is no walk in the park. “You have to concentrate on every turn,” says Wetmore. “Your mind is focused and your body is full of endorphins. It’s an incredible high. It’s the equivalent to playing a sport at a high level. There is no substitute for winning.”
Winning can be measured by friendly competition with a fellow skier, a bet against the mountain itself or a personal best. Whatever the measure, Wetmore, who holds the financial management advisor designation, believes this attitude helps him help his clients. “It makes you a better advisor when you can relieve the stress,” he says. “I’m a better advisor if I’m fit.”
Of course, skiing tends to be limited to only the winter months, which leaves a large portion of the year to be filled with another activity. In warmer months, Wetmore turns to mountain biking. Naturally, this is not a leisurely trek along a scenic route. “It’s breakneck speeds and steep cliffs,” he says.
Wetmore often opts for trails on Vancouver’s North Shore, including Grouse Mountain; in fact, he was one of the first people to bike that area. “There is some amazing riding up there,” he says. “There are great drops.”
Wetmore discovered that the hard way last year, when he suffered his first major injury, a crushed heel. “I’ve probably had more injuries outside of football than in football,” he says. “The ground is a lot harder, and you don’t have pads on.”
A couple of times a week, when Wetmore is injury-free, he will head to the hills with his mountain bike. At night, you’ll often find him out for a two-and-a-half-hour spin through the University of B.C.’s endowment lands.
Mountain biking, Wetmore notes, “is more for the cardio, and it is fun. You go fast. It’s a bit of an adrenaline rush.” IE