I’m with the crew on our month-long #MASTERtheMOUNTAIN camp in Fernie – and we’re at the Boulder Hut, the highlight of the trip. I was fortunate to snag a last-minute space that had become available. With places strictly limited to twelve at the hut, there’s usually no extra space, but whenever a spot opens up, we endeavour to send one of the Nonstop team on the trip. And this time, I was first in line. Having heard plenty of Boulder Hut tales from my friends Rupert and Max, I couldn’t wait to experience it myself. After a rushed job gathering my gear together and ramming everything I might need into my pack – being careful not for forget anything absolutely vital (plenty of layers, spare gloves, backcountry safety equipment, extra snacks) – we were off.

The adventure begins with an early-rise in Fernie and a one-hour mini-bus ride through the Rockies, glistening with early-morning hues, to nearby Kimberley – from where we heli into the Boulder Hut. The atmosphere on the bus is that of sleepy excitement. While some snooze, others quietly speculate on what’s to come.

We arrive in Kimberley and shuffle into a briefing room, dragging our gear with us. Our guides for the next four days are already there to welcome us, wearing heavy-duty yellow puffers. We sign the relevant helicopter waivers and organise ourselves into two groups for the 20-minute flight.

‘When the heli comes, huddle down. We’ll signal, then file into the heli as fast as you can,’ we’re told.

Time is of the essence. Heli fuel is expensive. They don’t want to waste it.

I’m in the second group to depart. We wave off our comrades who we’ll soon be seeing at the hut. Our turn arrives and we bundle into the chopper through a whirlwind of snow-spray disturbed by the rotating propeller blades. I sit in the back behind the pilot. I’m buzzing, others are nervous. He puts everyone at ease.

‘First time in a heli?’, he asks. ‘Great, it’s my first time flying!’

He’s joking, right?

The back of his ear-protectors sports a sticker. ‘Stop screaming. I’m scared too’, it reads.

The heli hovers above the ground for a few seconds, before swopping forward and up, nose tilting downwards, and into the sky. We’re off!

It’s not long until we’re engulfed by mountains –it’s already starting to feel rather remote. Everyone has their phones out to document the flight. The pilot shares a few nuggets of information about the valley through which we’re flying.

‘Hold on’, he says, as we swoop up and over a high mountain pass. When the weather is not perfectly still, this is the trickiest part of the flight owing to the sometimes-howling winds. We make it through smoothly.

We the see some log cabins in the distance. Caked in snow.

‘That must be the Boulder Hut!’

We land on a make-shift snow-covered heli-pad, jump out, crawl away and wait as our gear, plus some provisions and supplies for the week, are unloaded. We stay low as the heli takes off once more, to return to civilisation.

We’ve arrived. Magical doesn’t even cut it.

It’s early afternoon by now and the agenda for the remainder of the day is to settle in, chill out, fuel up and prepare for our first day touring. We’re given a whistle-stop tour of the compound before a briefing in the main hut.

The area comprises a series a cosy, rustic, wooden cabins nestled in a cocooned basin in the valley, surrounded by snow-cloaked trees with giant peaks and powder fields in every direction. Fully sustainable and self-sufficient, the hut is powered by hydro and wood.

The ‘Boulder Hut’ itself is the main hut, the communal area where we will eat and socialise, with a dining table, kitchen and mezzanine. Then there’s the ‘Casa’ – the sleeping quarters. There’s two levels connected by a wooden ladder with basic but comfortable beds. Everyone is quick claim their bed. I choose upstairs.

There’s another cabin in which the guides and chef stay, and the owners have their own micro-house.