The pewter-colored Chevy Silverado rumbled as I exited Calgary Airport and began the trek toward Banff. The truck — which I named Earl Grey — absorbed expansion joints as the Google navigation noted my progress and flat, white expanses unfolded before me.
Among the plains, clusters of houses with snow-covered roofs resembled miniature winter outposts, and the Trans-Canada Highway extended the horizon like an asphalt ribbon. The journey progressed into 20 minutes, 45 minutes, and more, and still, no mountains. Then, it happened.
Behind smoky clouds, a white-silver sun flashed, and with it, jagged peaks as I’d never seen. Appearing chiseled from limestone, dolomite, and shale, the protrusions towered over the highway like earthen waves.
That was my introduction to the Canadian Rockies. I was on my way to Banff for three days of snowboarding and cultural exploration. Here’s how the story unfolded.
Inside Banff National Park, the mountains come first
Once I passed through the gates of Banff National Park, I noticed something. Instead of sprawl or mansions lining the hillsides, only ridgelines silhouetted the horizon.
In town, along Banff Avenue, shops and restaurants lined the street, with Cascade Peak towering above. As night fell, the avenue’s lights provided a warm, cozy ambience. Venturing into the back streets, I discovered weathered, small chalets and cottages — real houses for local residents — instead of the endless hotels and Airbnbs.
Christie Pashby, Director, Public Affairs – Destination Development for Banff & Lake Louise Tourism, commented: “Banff’s location at the heart of Canada’s first national park shapes everything about the experience here. The protected landscapes, soaring peaks, and absence of urban sprawl create an immediate sense of remoteness that you can feel the moment you arrive. It’s a place where the mountains aren’t just a backdrop—they’re the center of daily life.”
Buffalo Mountain Lodge and the quiet art of rustic luxury
As the sun receded, I pulled up to Buffalo Mountain Lodge, just outside of town. In the lobby, a festive tree took center stage under towering ceilings held up by maple-colored beams.
The lodge, comprised of interconnected log cabin-like units, appeared hand-hewn from posts and beams, with rock supports and cut firewood outside the units.
Once inside, I found an adventure headquarters with a stone fireplace, elegantly lit space, Nespresso coffee maker, and A-frame style ceilings. Along the headboard, a light bar emitted a pleasant glow. During cold nights and mornings, the hallway and bathroom tiles radiated heat — a little respite from winter’s harshness.
Riding the wild across Banff’s SkiBig3
SkiBig3 comprises three resorts within an easy drive from Banff: Mount Norquay, Banff Sunshine Village, and Lake Louise. Together, they offer more than 8,000 acres of terrain and up to 30 feet of almost weightless snow annually. Across three days, I rode each, racking up tens of thousands of vertical feet, while discovering their unique qualities.
All I needed was a single ticket to discover Mount Norquay’s local charm, Sunshine’s freeride terrain, and Lake Louise’s massive expanses. Refreshingly, each offered free, easy parking and appealing, yet restrained, on-mountain development.
Mount Norquay — small, steep, and proudly local
After a quick drive, I arrived at Mount Norquay, in the midst of its 100th anniversary. Everything I saw resembled the classic, local ski resort — an adequate, tasteful base lodge, medium parking lot, zero lift lines, and skiers and riders wistfully making turns.
Once my guide and I got on the mountain, I found terrain that challenged, and a mood that charmed. My favorite run was taking the North American Chair (circa 1948, soon replaced by a gondola) and dropping into Gun Run, a steep, tree-lined burner, which funneled into Norquay Gully, where I turned and slashed along the walls.
“Norquay is Banff’s hometown hill,” says Marketing & Communications Manager Jasper Johnson. “We’re only ten minutes from town, so locals will jump on the bus and ski here over lunch. Time feels slower at Norquay—it’s a place where you can relax and ski at your own pace.”
Sunshine Village — powder, space, and the joy of branching out
At Sunshine Village, a unique layout greeted me. While the medium-sized Sunshine Mountain Lodge anchored the base area, the village was accessible by a gondola ride up the mountain, where a lift network, hotel, and restaurants awaited. Perhaps more importantly, world-class freeride terrain, accessed via avalanche-beacon-detecting gates, offered a ticket to bliss.
Upon reaching the village, three mountains stretched outward: Goat’s Eye, Lookout, and Mount Standish. My guide and I started on Lookout Mountain, where the mellow pitches blended into tighter, steep sections, with plenty of soft turns from recent snow. Then it got spicy.
We began exploring steeper terrain, where the incline and accumulations tested my skills and stamina. After hiking over ruts above what felt like a sheer drop, I turned down a powder-covered swath, managing speed and turn shape while trying to survive.
But the real treat came later that afternoon, when we entered the Wild West freeride zone via avalanche beacon-detecting gates. As I reached the gate, an illuminated red X turned to a green circle, before I dropped into a powder-covered gully, around 50 yards wide. It was like a dream. As I built speed, my board gobbled up the snow, and I made sweeping turns across the expanse. It’s a run I won’t soon forget.
“There are two things that really define Sunshine,” says Marketing & Events Coordinator Joe Craggs-Ward. “One is the quality of the snow, and the other is the level of customer service we aim to provide.” He adds that Sunshine’s freeride zones—Delirium Dive and Wild West—are accessed through beacon-scanning gates, helping raise avalanche awareness while opening the door to serious terrain.
Lake Louise — scale, freedom, and endless possibility
After slotting into resort-side parking, I approached Lake Louise’s tasteful base area and entered the Whiskey Jack Lodge. I met my guide, and we began with a warm-up on the frontside and I took in the alpine. It seemed as though the terrain never ended, with lifts and peaks expanding in all directions.
The fun began when we began exploring the back bowls, namely the Paradise Chair and Paradise Bowl. Finessing over a wind lip, I turned down E.R. 3’s cliff and drop-strewn pitch, making controlled turns into the thick, wind-whipped snow. From there, we entered Powder Pockets, full of powdery glades and banks, before arriving back at the chair.
Later that day, I discovered another favorite, the Summit Chair, where I dropped into West Bowl’s moon-like snowfields with almost no one around. With the sun waning, I took a cruiser back to the Pipestone Chair for a cool-down lap.
“You can spend years skiing here and still never see everything,” says Sales & Marketing Director Emmett McPartlin. “There are hidden tree runs and open areas you’ll discover even three days after a powder day.” Because Lake Louise sits within a national park, McPartlin says the terrain remains well preserved—and paired with massive alpine views, “it’s a place that never really loses its impact.”
Comfort found at the table, from sunrise to nightfall
Hard snowboarding and winter adventures required adequate fueling, and Banff provided a mix of ambience, local ingredients, and chef-inspired flair. From airy pancakes to rustic bison, I encountered nutrition and flavor in tune with the mountains.
Bluebird — warm mornings in the heart of Banff
My first morning in Banff, amped to get to Mount Norquay, I entered Bluebird Wood-Fired Steakhouse from the snowy streets. There, dark wood tones and warm lights greeted me, alongside a flickering hearth. After coffee, I tried soufflé pancakes, shaped like biscuits and pillowy in texture. Then, soft scrambled eggs — with organic sourdough, blistered cherry tomatoes, goat feta, hash browns, and persillade — provided fuel for a day of vertical.
Juniper Bistro — global ideas rooted in local ingredients
As I drove along Mount Norquay Road in the pitch-black evening, I crossed a bridge over the Trans-Canada Highway. Up ahead, the private Juniper Way appeared on the left. Turning in, a low-lit sign glowed with a Juniper Hotel logo. I parked and entered the Bistro, greeted by indigenous artifacts and a near-private ambience. Inside, Chef Sergio’s globally inspired, locally sourced recipes awaited.
I started with King Oyster Mushroom “Scallops”, comprised of King Oyster Mushrooms with a cremini purée, porcini dust, black garlic oil, and toasted brioche. Full-flavored and deep.
Then came a Root Vegetable Skillet of tricolor Alberta potatoes and roasted sunchokes, seasoned with thyme and rosemary and drizzled in smoked cheddar sauce. Then, the highlight, the Smoked Bison Shortrib, made of braised bison short rib with barbecue rhubarb sauce, roasted parsnip, and seasoned greens. A rosemary “brush” let me spread the sauce.
Good Folk — intimacy, artistry, and a meal to linger over
Worn out from a day of snowboarding, in need of warmth and nourishment, I pulled up alongside Good Folk in downtown Banff. I inched my car up to a private parking garage, where the door instantly retracted, and I entered a heated space. I felt like Batman.
Entering the restaurant, I encountered what every mountain adventurer needs: warm, comforting spaces and artful food. Once seated, rib-like wooden beams spanned the ceiling, and a tiny lamp glowed on the table.
I began with my usual mocktail, the BlackBerry Pass, a mixture of Sir James gin and tonic, crushed blackberries, and white peppercorns. Then, the Endive, Walnut & Little Gem Lettuce Salad, of black fig, Manchego cheese, fresh citrus, toasted sourdough, extra virgin olive oil.
The main course was the hearty, rustic Alberta Bison Striploin, with brown butter squash, parsnip purée, rosemary mashed potato, blackberry red wine jus (10oz). With each bite, I felt stronger, ready for another day.
Why Banff still feels like a real mountain escape
Growing up, when my family took a ski trip, we were getting away. What does that mean? Small towns, away from the city, far from the bustle. Unique places where the mountains were king. Sadly, that experience appears to be gradually disappearing, as development encroaches on ski towns.
But in Banff, that remote spirit lives on. With Cascade Mountain towering over Banff Avenue, I walked by shops and galleries, a hotel or restaurant here and there, feeling like I did on those long-ago ski trips. On the drive to the resorts, the Canadian Rockies’ sculpted ridgelines were all I could see before arriving at modest base areas and a terrain-focused experience. What created such a mountain-focused trip?
It all comes down to Banff being inside a national park. Rules and restrictions prevent overdevelopment, providing that all-important remote feeling, yet still offering a touch of luxury. Add in the terrain of SkiBig3 and a single ticket for three unique resorts, and you’ve got a formula for adventure.
