Driving eight hours west across beautiful and rugged British Columbia was a fitting prelude to our arrival at the most majestic of all North American ski resorts: Whistler/Blackcomb. Covered in all the dust from the B.C. back roads, we pulled our VW Touareg into Whistler Village and checked into our home for the next week at the swank Coast Whistler Hotel. Knowing Whistler's reputation, we wasted no time and hit the village in search of beer and good times.

The next week would turn into a blur of great skiing, parties, and making new and interesting friends. Fortunately, we always know who to call in town to show us the goods on the mountain. Our first days of skiing at Whistler we found a foot of new snow and the high alpine closed due to raging winds. The skiing was still great in the trees off Big Red, and we spent the day trying to keep up with local ripper and international playboy Joe Lammers. The trees in the coast region of B.C. look almost prehistoric. It's amazing neither one of us slammed into a trunk as we were simultaneously trying to keep up with Joe and admiring the moss-draped trees along the way.

Once the high alpine opened up, notorious sick bird Chris Winter led us around. We hit the backcountry at Blackcomb, and in less then ideal conditions, Chris picked his way down a line called Chlamydia with two mandatory airs. He shot out the bottom at about 200 miles per hour on surface crust and was visibly relieved. Later on we met up with legendary mountaineer and skier Troy Jungen, who wore us out with a thorough hiking of the backcountry off the high alpine.

If the snow was not exactly perfect while we were in Whistler, then the partying certainly was. Our PTTP Tour party at the GLC was one for the record books. At capacity and on St. Paddy's day no less, the room was shaking to the sounds and images of the Powder Video Awards played on the biggest screen to date. We gave away Salomon Teneighty skis, Smith Goggles and Sunglasses, North Face packs, and tons of beanies and T-shirts in the raffle. With the help of the lovely ladies and a guy named Chewy from Zero Ceiling, we managed to raise 1,400 loonies for the organization. It was a wild night, and the fat flakes falling outside made it that much sweeter.

Driving the Sea to Sky towards the ocean and away from Whistler was a bit disappointing, but we pulled over and took a minute to take in British Columbia's crisp air, towering mountains and lush greenery one last time. As we reflected on one of the best weeks of the tour yet, we looked forward to our final two destinations. California here we come.