A Million Foot ski suit is coveted by many but owned by few.
Fewer people have been awarded their first suit at CMH Heli-Skiing than have summited Mt. Everest. It’s that rare.
The pant-and-suit combo cannot be purchased outright. Instead, it’s earned by skiing or snowboarding one million vertical feet, which typically takes between 8-10 years.
On its surface, the Million Foot suit can easily be mistaken for nothing more than the ultimate insiders outwear—a flashy fashion statement lusted after by a handful of lucky heli-skiers.
But dig deeper and you’ll find that the core reasons it’s so desired are far less material. The true allure of donning this storied garment is, ironically, immeasurable.
What follows is the story of how 60 years of heli-skiing memories, tradition, friendship, and lore came to be woven into this anything-but-ordinary ski suit.
Rally ‘round the tally
Each winter’s evening, deep in the snowiest mountains of British Columbia, Canada, you’ll find a small gathering of skiers and snowboarders huddled around a bulletin board. They’re in the hallway of a chalet-style lodge that spills warm, yellow light from its windows onto the snow outside.
Squinting in unison at a freshly hung sheet of paper that’s still warm from the printer, the rosy-cheeked group resembles a troupe of actors waiting to learn who’s been cast in a Broadway production. Yet the information they crane their necks to see isn’t who snagged which role.
They’re here to learn numbers. More specifically, they want to know the latest amount of vertical elevation they’ve heli-skied at CMH—that day, that week, and during their lifetimes.
It’s a running total that’s tracked by their ski guides, who update everyone’s tally at the end of each day and post it on the wall for those who are interested.
Some aren’t, but many are. It’s a shared language for guests who travel from all over the world to heli-ski at CMH, and who range from brand-new to the sport to seasoned heli-skiers who’ve been visiting for 10, 20, or 30+ years.
Whether you’re someone who comes annually, every few years, or on multiple trips each season, one thing is the same: when you reach one million vertical feet skied or ridden, you become part of CMH’s Million Foot community. The milestone comes with your first Million Foot ski suit, a pin, champagne to raise a glass with your ski group, and a warm welcome to a club of ultra-passionate powder seekers.
How the million foot tradition began
Today’s suit is a technical jacket and pant from Arc’teryx. It’s a vibrant blue colourway that’s exclusive to CMH and features a special Million Foot logo on the jacket’s upper arm. The modern two-piece is a far cry from the very first suit, which was a literal suit. Yes, a blazer. Shoulder pads and all.
It debuted in the early 1970s when CMH’s founder, Hans Gmoser, sought a way to thank his most loyal guests for their support. These guests, he recognized, were an essential reason the business survived its earliest years and continued to succeed.
“The strongest driving force behind our rapid expansion was the tremendous amount of support and loyalty our guests bestowed upon us,” Hans once wrote.
“From the outset, I was amazed at how regularly how many of our guests returned year after year. Before long some of our guests came twice a year, then three times, then four times. They kept bringing their friends, organized groups to fill up whole weeks and actually worked hard to keep all of our places full.”
At times, Hans said, early guests like Ned and Carolyn Damon seemed to take it upon themselves to keep CMH solvent. The Damons over several years brought their entire family for the full season.
“Because of such strong support, the enterprise kept growing,” Hans said.
He sought out a befitting gift to commemorate the million-foot achievements of heli-skiing’s earliest superfans.
Chip Fisher, who was at the time the manager of Head Ski Canada, suggested an elegant blazer. They were navy blue and had a gold, CMH logo on the breast pocket that was hand-sewn by Margaret Gmoser. Although the Masters golf tournament-esque sport coat cut a dignified silhouette, it didn’t take long for Hans to realize it was a mismatch in the Canadian wilderness.
Getting the fit and sizing correct for each guest turned out to be about as awkward as wearing a formal jacket to the informal lodge dinner table. Only a few were made and awarded between 1971-72 before the well-intentioned blazers began collecting dust.
Andre Noel, who’d by then taken over from Chip at Head Ski Canada, suggested a ski jacket instead—something heli-skiers could enjoy wearing on their trips—which proved to be a much bigger hit.
From high fashion to ‘fart sac’
The first Million Foot ski jacket (1974) was straight off the European runway. It was made by Swiss fashion designer Henri Charles Colsonet (HCC) and featured a rudimentary iteration of a powder skirt: a ‘diaper’ at the bottom that fit under the crotch to prevent snow from billowing inside.
This jacket laid the groundwork for a zip-together full powder suit, also by HCC, that came later in the 70s. It was blue with yellow highlights and was designed for the deep.
“In the 70s it never stopped snowing. There was deep powder all the time,” reads a history assembled over the years by a collection of staff and guides at CMH Bugaboos.
“These suits were state of the art and were designed to keep powder out! They had the first high powder collar, with an angled zipper at the chin, and form-fitting pants that could be zipped to the jacket. There were long, tight gaiters under the pant legs and long, tight arms with powder cuffs. The suits were well made and resilient. You still see them around today.”
The next Million Foot suits (late 1970s – early 1980s) were by Far West, a Canadian company that also made the suits for the 1982 Mt Everest expedition on which mountaineer Laurie Skreslet became the first Canadian to reach Everest’s summit.
A 1980s nylon Ditriani suit followed (pictured), before a brightly coloured Bogner one-piece dominated the decade of 90s fashion.
The Bogner suit was inspired by Willy Bogner, a German fashion designer, filmmaker and former ski racer. Nicknamed the ‘bumblebee suit’ for the horizontal bands that ran across its chest, it was a high-quality, beautifully tailored, stretchy one-piece, made with ‘revolutionary’ waterproof, breathable fabric that turned out to be neither waterproof nor terribly breathable. It was phased out at the end of the 90s when Bogner wanted to switch to a two-piece suit, which CMH at the time deemed impractical for heli-skiing.
Y2K dawned with the last-ever Million Foot onesie, made by Marmot. It was a big, baggy suit infamously dubbed the ‘fart sac’ for its impenetrable fabric that, though warm, let nothing escape.
Since around 2010, the Million Foot suit has been a (breathable!) Arc’teryx two-piece. The earliest version included features like knee pads and a radio pocket, which was designed with feedback from CMH guides and mirrored the guides’ jacket and pants.
One notable moment in the suit’s modern history was when a near-revolt occurred in in 2013. As a cost-saving measure, someone in the CMH marketing department removed the bottom half of the Million Foot suit from the program. Because the pants were plain black and bore no CMH logo or markings, marketing predicted the change would be neither here nor there to guests. They were resoundingly wrong. The ill-fated guess resulted in a flood of feedback from miffed Million Footers. Pants were swiftly returned to the program the very next season, and anyone who’d received only a jacket the year prior was retroactively gifted the bottom half, plus a clever apology note.
Since Pant Gate, the suit has remained virtually unchanged.
Material with many meanings
The collective reaction to this brief marketing misstep highlights the level of passion guests have for the Million Foot suit. Messing with the unfashionable ‘fart sac’ likely would’ve elicited the same fervent outcry, which hints at a greater realization most people reach somewhere along their journey to a million feet.
That realization is that the suit itself is only a physical representation of what’s at the heart of why people return to heli-ski again and again. It’s not about the fabric of a ski jacket, nor is it about adding up neatly typed totals on a page. Both merely tell slivers of the underlying story, which is a collection of someone’s most cherished days on snow.
One million feet embody one million small moments worth remembering. And zipping up that suit unlocks them all, like rolling a film reel of cumulative snippets spent in the mountains and in the lodge: flashes of floaty powder turns; cozy down days spent beside the fireplace at the lodge; meals shared, glasses raised; personal limits pushed and conquered; belly-laughter wipeouts; great loves found; great loves lost; occasional crappy conditions still enjoyed with great people; warm soup slurped during lunch on a mountaintop—the list is endless.
Some Million Footers deepen the personal meaning of their suits by adding their own custom touches to, like sewing on a homemade patch or enlisting a painter to turn it into living artwork.
“I think the Million Foot suit is a great representation of people doing a sport that they love, alongside people they love. It’s about relationships and connection,” said Natasha Wiebe, CMH’s Director of Guest Services.
“It brings together people who maybe didn’t even know each other before meeting at a lodge, and who now make plans to go on a trip together year after year. I so often hear people tell me that coming to CMH is the thing they look forward to all year long. They might not see each other for months or years, except for here.”
Each million-milestone reached also represents a status, Natasha said. That status means something different to everyone. Some guests don’t wish to mark the occasion at all, while to others it might symbolize a major life moment such as overcoming a health issue to return to skiing, or introducing a parent or child to the sport and sharing precious time together.
“When you watch a Million Foot suit presentation and hear directly from people how coming to CMH has changed their life in a good way, it’s impactful,” Natasha added.
The art of the ceremony
For some, it might be the way they received their Million Foot suit that makes it momentous.
There is often an initial celebration while out skiing, during the run a guest crosses the million-foot threshold. This might mean coveted first tracks for the guest of honour, or skiing through a finish line marked with the guide’s roll of neon flagging tape while their group cheers on.
Later that evening at the lodge, the suit is usually presented by CMH staff during a dinnertime tribute that’s tailored to its recipient. The personalized presentations take many different forms, but most are a skit, a performed song, a meaningful speech, or a light-hearted comedic roast.
Staff often go to thoughtful lengths to create the presentations, or even craft the occasional custom trophy, plaque or other extra-special item for guests who have become their friends, too. These ‘special’ gifts are wacky and wonderful, and have included a glue-gunned macaroni statue handmade by Galena Lodge Manager Carrie Dooh as an inside joke for beloved guest Virginia Bonar, or a gold-painted ski for mega Million Footer Todd Lebowitz that featured a list of all his trips.
Longtime CMH Cariboos guest Neal Marcus remembers the time 30 years ago when he reached two million feet and his first suit, a Bogner, received a particularly epic sendoff.
Neal’s ski companions and close friends, who for many years skied together at the Cariboos during the same week annually, elicited the help of staff to creatively bid adieu to Neal’s dirty, well-worn original one-piece. They dipped it in Jet B helicopter fuel, propped it up in the snow in front of the lodge, stuffed its collar with fireworks that had been purchased on the sly, lit the fuze, and stood back (hey, it was the 90s).
“Sure enough, with every person at the lodge watching, the flaming collar of my ski suit went FLYING off to the woods, and the rest of my suit turned into a lovely campfire,” Neal recalled.
For obvious reasons this didn’t happen again, but the fun-filled, explosive moment sparked something in Neal’s friend, Thomas Grevel, that would live on for years to come.
“Thomas told me that it was an inspiration to him to bring laughter and joy to every Cariboo Week 15 thereafter,” Neal recalled at Thomas’ recent passing. Spurred on by the flame-filled laugh, the friends organized a group that became known as the Yacht Club. Among other hijinks, the Yacht Club established an annual boat race held in the bubbly waters of the lodge hot tub. They invited every guest present to join in the fun and build a vessel out of materials scrounged from around the lodge. On the final evening of each yearly trip, everyone cheered and raced their homemade boats around the hot tub with the help of a portable fan until a winner was crowned.
Good times shared
The sense of community exemplified by the Yacht Club is what makes the Million Foot suit matter to many.
The feeling of doing something you enjoy and sharing it with others can be found at CMH lodges among friends and total strangers alike, or among generations of the same family. Sometimes, it’s both.
Hank Brandtjen has been skiing at CMH since 1978. It was his dad who kickstarted a lifelong enjoyment for him.
“My very first trip was with my father. It bonded us for life,” he recently shared. “I remember the trip as though it was yesterday. Now, 14 million vertical feet later, I still smile at the memories we made.”
Hank mostly travels solo to CMH, but he’s made countless friends throughout the decades, so his time here is more of a reunion than a solo pursuit.
Couple Tom and Trudy Chamberlain have skied 10 million feet apiece and spend one month each winter at the Cariboos, where they look forward to seeing familiar faces who have come to resemble family.
The Bonar family have made their million feet a generational affair. Jack and Virgina ‘Ginny’ Bonar began skiing at CMH in 1982 and introduced their daughter, Nicole, to it in 1987. The three have skied nearly 40 million feet between them, mostly at Galena. Oh, and Ginny’s 15 million have been completed mostly on a custom-built monoski!
Six decades later
In CMH’s 60-year history, around 5,200 people have hit the one-million-foot milestone.
When Hans kick-started the tradition, he couldn’t have imagined how it would gain momentum and grow. In the 1970s, the daily movements of the helicopter and ski groups were less well-oiled, so it took longer to pass one million feet.
But as heli-skiing developed and the years went by, more and more Million Footers were crowned and continued to return. CMH eventually introduced multi-million-foot milestones of five, 10, 15, and 20 million. Each milestone includes a ski suit refresh and other incentives to choose from.
Only 55 people in the world have reached the 10 million mark or more.
The longstanding record of million feet heli-skied by a CMH guest is held by the late Todd Lebowitz of Highland Park, Illinois. Todd enjoyed an astounding 26 million feet during his lifetime—mostly at the Monashees, which he visited for 4-5 weeks each year.
On an average weeklong Signature Trip today, guests ski and ride approximately 100,000 feet (30, 500 metres). Most Million Footers take one trip per year, so it typically takes between 8-10 years and the same number of trips to hit one million feet.
Some guests have accumulated the total in as little as one season. Caroline Kahn caught the powder bug in 2016 and quickly began taking multiple trips each winter. She skied a million feet during 10 trips in the same 2019 season. She later met her perfect match, fellow multi-Million Footer Steve Kruse, who also skied one million feat in a single season in 2016. The two were married in 2024.
Helen Sovdat is a Mountain Guide who has guided at CMH for more than 35 years. People can get caught up in the numbers of reaching a certain number of feet, she said, but really, it’s about the joy you get from skiing and being part of CMH.
“We love being part of something larger than ourselves, which includes being part of nature. We have all felt that magic.”
Lean into the joy of it all
Whether you have your own Million Foot suit or dream of one day becoming part of the community, now you know its storied history and the true meaning of this legendary piece of ski gear.
It still represents what it did 60 years ago: a thank you meant to be worn fondly and evoke favourite memories.
The Million Foot suit remains a gesture of gratitude to the many guests who are part of an ultra-passionate, sometimes-wacky, occasionally mischievous, warm-hearted CMH family.
When you spot someone wearing a suit in an airport or resort lift line, or perhaps catch a glimpse of your own hanging in the closet, may it make you think of the feet you’ve experienced, where you enjoyed those turns, and who you shared them with.
We invite you to share what your own Million Foot suit means to you in the comments, below.
Comments
What a fun article. It brings back many happy memories. At age 84 I am no longer able to ski but still think often of the wonderful times over 35 years at CMH. My first trip was to the mining camp at Bobbie Burns and my CMH adventures ended at the modern Burns lodge. Along the way I managed about 8.5 Million feet and watched my two sons exceed a million each. The highlight of the awards ceremonies was when I received my eight million “suit” together with my two sons receiving their one million jackets. My older son was given one of my old “fart bags” before getting his new outfit. I look often at a photo in my office of Hans awarding me a suit. Keep up the good work.
Special memories of the evening when I received my suit. The staff brought out a big decorated “cake” for me as a celebration of reaching 1,000,000 vertical. When I tried to cut into the cake there was a knife hitting medal sound. Roko was one of the group watching along with my husband Fred.
Turned out to be a kitchen pot decorated with icing which when inverted contained my suit stuffed inside.
CMH never disappoints. Great fun times.
Funny and well written Kelsey. Thanks!
As many guests, I started CMH as a 1 time life event and I was addicted by: passion of the snow / passion for the incredible terrain / the fun to meet guests & CMH employees (guides & staff) with same passion! Great fun & addiction!
I first skied withe CMH in April of 1976. I was skiing at Silver Star outside of Vernon, B.C. by myself and called the Banff office to see if they had space in an area and they said the Cariboo lodge was having its last week. I think the tab was about $650. I drove up from Kamloops early in the morning. Unfortunately, about the time I arrived there was an accident in the Monashees when a landing spot collapsed, which resulted in fatalities. The helicopter left Valemount in a hurry to help with the rescue as we were staging to fly into the lodge. Later it came back and transferred us in. I think we skied the next day but there was a day when there was no skiing because of the memorial service. Between those events Hans was guiding but one day there was a problem with the well and by the end of the day he was in at least an 8 foot hole he had dug earlier that day to fix the problem. Despite the tragedy the staff provided a very good week of spring skiing. I am sure it was a tough for them but they came through for us.
Over the years I managed to accumulate about 2.3 million feet. I stopped going because my body got to the point where I just didn’t feel comfortable any more.
My son, MIchael Desmond, makes one trip a year religiously. The first time I took him he was 16.
Now he is in his mid 50’s. As a matter of fact in the latest CMH email article about the evolution of the million foot suit he is pictured twice in the group of 4 and is quoted below the second picture.
Usually I came with my friend Maurice Cooper from Seattle and sometimes MIke when he was available. We skied all the original areas and enjoyed every one. It is hard to pick a favorite but I think I would have to put Revelstoke pretty close to the top because of their many options along with the Bugaboos because of the nostalgia, plus the skiing in Rory Creek on a good day. I asked Hans if he had a favorite and his answer was something like “when you are in heaven it doesn’t matter which side of the street you are on”.
I still live the experience through the videos Mike sends to me plus the ones on the website. Without a doubt my trips are something I will never forget. The skiing is the best in the world but meeting all the wonderful people that I skied with also provided many wonderful memories. Of course sharing trips with my son is one of the highlights of my life. During our first trip together we were skiing in Rory Creek on a sunny day and Leo Grillmair was the guide. He stopped half was down with the group as usual and Mike wasn’t there. Leo looked at me and said “I sent MIke down to the heli pad to do something for me, he’s too fast for his old man.” Sounds exactly like Leo.
Tom Desmond
I am the proud owner of 3 suits starting with the early Ditrani one piece with jacket and zip in vest. The most unique presentation I saw was in the Caribous by Earnest to Ned Damon. In his inimical way he announced Ned didn’t need 13 suits so the staff presented him with 13 pressed naked hams against the dining
Room window. Ned and Mouse sitting at their usual seats in
Front of the window were much impressed
This was a great read.. my husband Ralph Miller was gifted with 4 suits over his storied skiing at CMH.. he was and still is a CMH advocate since the early 80’s..and regales anyone who will listen, for hours of his adventures, at the various lodges… his favourite was the Bugaboos. We made it a family Christmas holiday once…and it was unforgettable… thanks for the memories.. when he wears one of his jackets these days, the conoscenti of the ski world will recognize and comment on CMH… the gold standard of skiing..
Actually, I’ve just been corrected … his favourite was Galena!! 😁
I and my father followed Hans Gmoser’s development of heliskiing with rapt attention from 1965, when the lift was then provided by an airplane. My first trip was at Christmas 1979 in the Cariboos. My father finally joined me in 1985 at the Bobbie Burns, but struggled with the skinny skis. The fat skis made more skiing possible for me and now the Powder Masters. The Cariboos became my favorite lodge and half of my 42 trips to CMH have been there. I received my first million suit at the Bugaboos in March 2005, when I returned to heliskiing after a 3 year hiatus looking after my beloved husband, John McCarron, who joined me at the Monashees on his first trip in 1991, and passed away of a brain tumor at the age of 54 in 2003. After recovering from that tragic loss and my subsequent breast cancer, I returned to heliskiing in 2005 with Lynn Christenson’s group, “Champagne in the fast lane” at Bobbie Burns. I received my first 1,000,000’ suit at the Bugaboos in March, 2005. My second million suit (2010) was given to me at the Cariboos by Erin Teunissen, lodge manager in a hilarious skit , guessing incorrectly the price of extra vertical feet in 1979, when I started on the skinny skis. My third million suit at the Cariboos (2010) was celebrated with Johnny Mellis, area manager, in a skit known as mini-man. I am writing this now on the bus enroute to the Cariboos for a Powder Masters week 2/8-15/2025, with great CMH friends, Carolyn and Buzz Pierce. I had hoped to reach 4,000,000, but age and health issues have decreased my weekly footage from my peak of 157,000’ in March, 2002 to less weekly vertical feet, so that I believe my personal best will remain in the 3,500,000 range for this and hopefully future trips. I wear my blue jacket and black bib pants with pride, and consider the 3 suits like diplomas of fun, along with my cherished medical degree received from McGill University’s 7 year program in 1974. The feeling of floating through smooth powder has been the peak experience of my skiing that beckons me to return again now for some more of those turns! Thank you to CMH for the best skiing of my life. With heartfelt gratitude, Jane
It’s always fun to reminisce. I started heli-skiing at 18 in ‘76 at the Caribou lodge and was immediately addicted. The Monashees were probably the best and at times the scariest, we got lost on, if I remember correctly, a run called Jungle Jim on January 6th at -25c. We spent the night on a creek bed. The Bobbie Burns camp was fun and the new lodge was amazing at the time. I got my million suit in ‘82, at 23 years old. That suit is still sit in a closet, seeing it always brings memories of the great staff and the friends that I met.
Cheers to all of you!
Mark and Mary Jewell earned our million-foot suits in the 80’s and 90’s. Mark has one of the Ditrani suits and a Marmot suit (2 million feet). Mary has the first of the Bogner one-piece suits that Mark Kingsbury brought from the CMH office in Banff to present to her in Galena. The lore and tradition of the million-foot suit is so special. It’s lovely to be recognized at a regular ski area when wearing our suits as skiers who had the right stuff to achieve this award.
It has been a wonderful experience heliskiing at the various CMH lodges. We brought our oldest son with us to CMH Adamants and had a 200,000-foot week- getting our name on the wall.
An excerpt from my personal CMH history since 1999…
We arrived at the Adamants in April that year,
Even Goldmember was present though suppressing his gear,
Many of the staff had gathered to observe us crazy fellas,
Who always bought the bar out of all of the Stellas,
We were there on a mission, skiing as if it were our last,
To make Schwan-y fly far, often, and fast!
We visited all corners from Pyrite to Poseidon, Frodo to Speedway,
Slowly exchanging guests for guides who wanted to join on this special day.
We skied wall-to-wall, and everything in-between,
It all culminated on a run named Sweet Sixteen.
On that sunny day Erich was leading, joined by Graeme and another named Murray,
He lead us to a pitch then turned and said without a hurry,
Go ahead boys, this one is yours, Craig first, then you Cary,
My brother went first and left me to follow in his smoke,
I crossed up his tracks as we center-punched that bowl with such stoke.
He and I dancing down that mountain embracing the state,
His turns and my turns completing an eight.
A journey first imagined as a kid long ago,
A million vertical feet skied by me and my bro!
The celebration after was really quite silly,
My brother and I got a whee bit chilly!
Though the jacket provided more than made up for the cold,
Memories of the bubble party after will never grow old! …
So many great memories and looking forward to many more…