A Hummer of a Good Time - Whistler, British Columbia

A Hummer of a Good Time

Whistler, British Columbia


In case you're not up on your latest hip-hop artist vehicles of choice, allow me to briefly explain what a Hummer is. Picture an overgrown jeep, so wide that the passenger and driver could hardly touch hands if they fully extended their arms. They're so tough they include drainage plugs in the floor in case the vehicle is submerged.

I'm sure you're thinking this may possibly be the most useless of all car innovations, but there are recorded cases of Hummers being towed out of lakes, drained and started up again with no repairs. Previously only utilized by military personnel, the Hummer has lately seen widespread use as an extravagant highway advertising gimmick or as toys for those with more money than they know what to do with, and no inclination to ever get their vehicle dirty.

Now that we have that out of the way, let me explain how my girlfriend, Abbie, and I came to find ourselves cruising through Whistler Village in one. As it turns out, an old friend of mine had found work for the summer doing all-terrain Hummer tours up Blackcomb Mountain. When I called him to see if he was available for coffee, he explained that he just happened to have room for Abbie and I to jump in on the evening's sunset tour, free of charge.

Abbie and I are what you'd call environmentalists and have been known to hug a tree or two while consuming granola. Riding around in a gas guzzling tank was not normally something we would consider doing, but it was free and it would be the first time in a while I had seen my friend, so off we went to meet him. Sure enough, the big red beast of a mutated jeep pulled in, blaring music from the local pirate radio station. We watched it park diagonally across two spaces and out popped my grinning friend in a faux beaver fur cap, flaps sticking out at right angles to his head. After a brief reunion and introductions to my girlfriend, we were off to pick up his other three clients for the evening ride.

Since the Hummer was being used for sightseeing tours, it had been converted to add a two-seater bench in between the back seats and two bucket seats in the rear. It was in these back seats we sat and somehow, the fur hat had made it back there as well to end up on Abbie's head. The interesting thing about being in a bright red Hummer is that when you drive through a busy town like Whistler, people turn and stare, not that we minded one bit, after all, we could drive over any of their vehicles without even spilling our coffee.

Once we pulled off the main roads there was a brief stop so that our guide could deflate the tire pressure with the flick of a switch in order to gain better traction on the steep terrain ahead. After cruising up a grade that would make most cars smoke and sputter, we reached a level plateau with a steep embankment on one side.

Just as I noticed that there were tire tracks heading up a nearby vertical section, my friend pointed the vehicle straight at the tracks and began to drive up them. Driving about fifteen feet up the side of the hill, he put the Hummer in park and made some wise crack about coming up here to watch the stars. If I had reached my arm straight behind me, I would have been able to touch the ground due to the angle we were sitting at.

Before we even had a chance to be fully amazed at our verticality, he backed down out of the spot, pulled around and proceeded to reverse up into the same position. We were now staring pretty much straight down at the ground and expecting the whole thing to tip over at any second. I'm sure there were some sort of safety regulations which had to be met, but it was at this point that I noticed the roll bar was at eye level and if we went over, then the back two seats, which aren't normally supposed to be there, might suddenly disappear. Among other feats of vehicular prowess, he further demonstrated the ability to drive over ditches and varied terrain where there were often only three wheels making contact at any time.

Soon the automotive acrobatics were over and we continued our journey up through the trees and to the top of the mountain. As we rode up we attained better and better viewpoints of the scenic village below just before melting into evening fog patches. Shrouded in mist, the tall skinny trees took on an ethereal feel and I was glad that we had been able to experience this, despite our excessive gas usage.

Around this time my friend was also well into his guide speech about the possibility of seeing bears, telling us that there used to be a man employed by the tour companies with the name of Crazy Willy, or something equally ridiculous, who would put on a bear costume and jump out to scare the tourists (when I pressed him on it later, my friend told me that this story was entirely true).

Although he mentioned that bear sightings were quite common up here, we were all surprised to come across a mother and two cubs playing on a patch of leftover winter snow. The only noise to be heard was the occasional snap of a camera shutter as we sat and watched the bears frolic beneath a misty sunset backdrop. Neither Abbie nor myself had seen a wild bear before and I couldn't imagine a better setting for a first viewing. My friend later told me that out of his numerous bear encounters, this was surely the most impressive.

We finished the tour by heading to one of the upper lodges and watching the sun sink below the distant peaks. Then we returned back down to paved roads where we paused briefly to ooh and aah as the Hummer re-inflated its tires.

I don't know that I'd be able to cough up the money to pay for one of these tours, but it was definitely an enjoyable and beautiful experience. Since I'm great at rationalizing things, I figured that since Abbie and I are environmentally responsible 99% of the time, we could afford to break habit once in a while and do something like rampage up a mountain in a gas eating Hummer. Hey, at the very least, it's a new experience under our belts.