What’s in a Name?
We love place names here at the Museum, and apparently so do you. Two of our most popular blog posts ever have listed the meaning behind some of Whistler-Blackcomb’s ski run names (Why is that Ski Run Called Hooker? Who Burnt the Stew?).
So we were especially excited with the most recent arrival to our archives: a thick folder featuring maps, name lists, and correspondence by prolific local mountaineer/geologist/Olympian father Karl Ricker, dating from 1964 to the early 2000s. Essentially the file tells the official story behind dozens of mountain, glacier and creek names around Whistler (covering most of the north half of Garibaldi Park).
Let’s start with the big one: Whistler. The story was already known, but it’s pretty important to finally have the official documentation in our archives.
Alex Philip and guest “At the summit of Whistle Mountain,” 1920s. They are very close to where you find the big, rime-encrusted Inukshuk today.
Locally, the mountain was always known to Alta Lake residents as “Whistle” or “Whistler” Mountain in honour of the whistling hoary marmots encountered in the high alpine by hikers. Somehow this name never made it to the survey officials in Victoria and Ottawa, and the mountain appeared on government topo maps as “London Mountain,” presumably in reference to the mining claims on the mountain’s north slopes, registered to the “London Mining Group” (they were Brits).
By 1964, of course, high-profile efforts by Garibaldi Lifts to develop a ski hill and bring the Olympics to the southern Coast Mountains were already well underway, As Ricker wrote in his application to the Geographic Names Board,
“the mountain is still “Whistler” Mountain to the Vancouver newspapers and to all the advertisements put forth on the development of skiing in this portion of Garibaldi Park. Yet when a newcomer or new park user attempts to find “Whistler” on the map he is faed with unnecessary confusion.”
Not surprisingly, the Geographic Names Board was convinced, and the rest is history.
As for some of the more poetic names one finds towards the back of the traverse: 1964 marked the 400th anniversary of the birth of “The Bard,” William Shakespeare. As Ricker noted in his application,
“His plays are loaded with a diverse lot of characters; the [naming] committee felt that a few of them aptly described some of the features in the area and that we should contribute to the commemoration of this anniversary.”
The mountains resemble Shakespearean characters? Hear him out:
Mount MacBeth: This hulking pyramid marks “the point of no return” for skiers attempting the full traverse. “Similarly, Macbeth reached a point of no return when he began to kill off his friends.”
Mount MacBeth (the glaciated peak at center/right) from Whistler Mountain. Photo: Bivouac.com.
Mount Iago: While on the 1964 traverse, this peak “appeared to be an impossible barricade to our ski touring party. The summit glacier is criss-crossed with hidden crevasses as well, and as a result the 1964 party was coerced into taking a long detour” (hence Detour Ridge). Later, the party realized that the peak was not so hazardous as suspected, and Ricker drew the comparison with Iago, “a very deceptive fellow in Shakespeare’s Othello.”
Mount Benvolio: The report states how “When viewed from the north, this peak stands out from Mount Overlord and Fitzsimmons… However, its beauty from a far is somewhat dulled in close up views and its ascent is of no trouble. In Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, the character of Benvolio had similar traits.
There you have it. Who said place names are boring?!
This just scratching the surface of all the great stuff in these folders, there are definitely more blog posts to come. In the meantime, feel free to leave a comment below if you’re curious about a specific name or feature, and we’ll see what we can do.
For more about this story, and the rest of Whistler’s unique past, check out the Whistler Museum’s blog.
Article source: http://www.whistlerisawesome.com/2013/02/16/whats-in-a-name/
