My first time skiing Kingfisher resulted in such a story. It was our first day with guests, and, in true BC fashion, it dumped 80cm the night before. The terrain was brand new for us at that point, so when we spotted an open meadow deep in the Monashees that seemed promising, we landed. Our guests were first-time heli skiers, and to say we were stoked would be the understatement of the year. Much to our surprise, the “open meadow” we’d cautiously selected suddenly steepened and thickened with trees, gracing us with an unexpected thrill complete with blower pow, zero wind, and a totally bottomless base. I paused to peek up at my crew, but could only make out billows of powder emitting wild giggles and shouts—a tell-tale sign of a bunch of guests having the best day ever. Snow plastered to their grins confirmed my suspicions as they met me, and it wasn’t long before we dubbed the run “Hyena Hills” to commemorate the boisterous noise of that first descent, which turned out to be 1,800 vertical feet of steep open trees.