Early in her career, Marie spent most of her days driving a snowmobile deep into the Whistler, BC back-country. Here, she sends a frontside 720 somewhere beyond Pemberton while filming for Absinthe Films’ 2009 offering, Neverland . Photo: Oli Gagnon Words Colin Wiseman M arie-France Roy was sorry. “What are you sorry about, Marie?” “I don’t know…” she trailed off with a guilty half-smile. It could have been the rain—which, to state the obvious, was not within her control. We were sitting in the lobby of a Best Western in Campbell River, BC, discussing Plan B over a stale continental break-fast. Outside, the murk of a mid-January Pineapple Express had set in. Muggy, drizzly, foggy warmth. Unapologetic. It was only day three of a well-planned 10-day Vancouver Island alpine adventure, but it seemed we were screwed. Plan A had begun well enough. At least for Marie, fellow rider Charles Reid, and her erstwhile filmer/team manager, Sean Black. They were working on Arbor Snowboard’s new flick, Cosa Nostra . Be-fore Kael Martin and I arrived, they spent a few days splitboarding near Marie’s west coast home in Ucluelet, overnighted in an undis-closed backcountry location, and splitboarded their way into some easy-access powder and pillows. Then, they indulged in a heli-bump into an obscure zone. She said it was marvelous, that she could damn near see her cob house from the top. But by the time we met up at Mt. Cain Alpine Park Sunday morn-ing, it was warm and crusty. Rain, rain and more rain in the forecast. We’d ripped some groomers with the partied-out locals, then bailed to Campbell River. Which led us to Plan B. “Should we go to Whistler? Looks like it might turn to snow,” Ma-rie offered. “Or maybe Revelstoke?” That was a tricky proposition. We had things to do on the island. Mountains to climb. Marmots to encounter. Old-growth rainforests to explore. Then again, a tropical flow on the coast often means powder in the interior, and we all had the next week free. Marie dialed a Revelstoke hotel. “My name is Marie-France Roy,” she said without a hint of Quebecois inflection. Maybe that makes her sorry, I thought, having to employ a dumbass American accent to navigate her on-the-road lifestyle. “Sorry,” she told the other end of the line on cue. So, we found ourselves on the road to Revelstoke, a hundred miles south, one crossing of the Salish Sea, then some six hours on the Trans-Canada to the east—the two-lane boogie across British Columbia. And for the next week, it snowed. We rode the resort at Revelstoke, toured around Rogers Pass, shuffled from seedy to not-so-seedy hotels, and generally enjoyed ourselves under cloudy skies—difficult for filming, fun for boarding. Marie took it all in stride, remaining lighthearted, good for a laugh, down for whatever. Even when she fell ill and couldn’t ride for a day, she greeted us with a smile (and said she was sorry). Now 32 years old, Marie’s been voted Snowboarder Magazine Fe-male Rider of the Year, filmed with Absinthe, and produced and di-rected her own environmentally conscious snowboard flick, among other achievements. She’s lived the good life as one of the best riders in the world for more than a decade. She got there through her own voli-tion—nobody handed her the golden ticket to snowboard stardom. In fact, she had to deal with a lot of shit. She was bullied by her older brothers’ friends while learning to ride, and then worked full-time res-taurant and housekeeping jobs every summer from 11 years old until turning pro in her early 20s. But she toughed it out. From my perspective, Marie’s got nothing for which to be sorry. But still, there’s that guilt. It’s in the contrast between a cruisy life as a globetrotting pro snowboarder and an environmentalist’s heart. A dream job and a dreamer’s global awareness. A pulpit from which to preach and a rural kid-sister’s humility. But it’s driven her to act—to pursue an environmentally conscious voice while balancing an often-fleeting career on snow. During the last morning of the trip, I jumped in the shotgun seat of her Jetta wagon for the hourlong drive to the trailhead. Can you guess the first question? Sorry, Marie. MARIE-FRANCE ROY 077
The Snowboarder's Journal frequency 15.4: Page 77
