More than just a gathering, White Lips is a backcountry ski and snowboard event rooted in a broader effort to make space for more women in the mountains and equip them with the knowledge to move confidently beyond resort boundaries, where, the terrain is unmarked and uncompromising, with no lifts, no infrastructure, and no rescue services on standby.*

To reach the summits, participants strap climbing skins beneath their skis or boards and carry the essential tools of the trade—avalanche transceiver, shovel, and probe—as risk management rests entirely on individual preparation. The aim is not merely to move through these landscapes, but to read them, to develop the awareness, judgment, and respect the mountains demand.

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*As part of the event, several teams are in place to be able to intervene quickly if needed.

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While gusts batter the windows of the old church serving as headquarters, some 150 participants, along with thirty ambassadors, guides, and volunteers, gather inside. At the start and end of each day, they share meals, conversation, and the occasional dance.

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They range in age from 20 to 60. Some are just starting out; others bring years of experience. What unites them all is a deep love of the mountains and a commitment to learning their ways. It takes a certain devotion to join a gathering like this—to make the journey deep into the Gaspé Peninsula, sometimes with friends, sometimes alone.

White Lips stands apart from other events in Quebec, in large part because of its terrain—towering peaks and the presence of true alpine zones. Over four days, participants put their knowledge to the test, reading the slopes and contours of Mount York, Mount Porphyre, and Mount Lyall in Parc national de la Gaspésie. The cold and wind do more than bite at your bones or whip your hair—they shape the snow, offering lessons to those who know how to read the landscape.

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There’s something in the mountains—in their scale, in their raw power—that reminds us risk is woven into the landscape itself. That awareness is what keeps us present, focused, alive.

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But beyond these imposing ridgelines, it’s the collective energy that leaves the deepest resonance. Being gathered so far from anywhere, in a small town tucked into the mountains, creates a singular atmosphere, as if the harshness of winter itself draws everyone closer. Encouragement flows freely, and questions are met without judgment. In a world often defined by performance and comparison, this all-women experience shifts the dynamic, creating a space apart, an unexpected sanctuary where technique grows alongside confidence.

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Because even after long days in the mountains, participants inevitably come together for après-ski—whether inside the old church or at the base of the slopes on a dance floor lit by the headlights of snowcats. It’s a gathering unlike most, where the intensity of each day lingers in the room, fueled by the energy of those pushing themselves and, above all, by the sense of belonging to something larger than oneself.

For the second year running, Orage stands alongside White Lips. Supporting this events means backing women who seek the outdoors, who want to learn to read the terrain and move through it with confidence. In Quebec, where backcountry events of this scale remain rare, the gathering becomes both a meeting point and a moment to connect with a passionate community.

In the heart of a Gaspesian winter, White Lips reminds us that the mountains exclude no one. They teach, challenge, and inspire. And above all, they bring people together — forging connections that linger long after the slopes are left behind.