This revisionist tale of history was written just for fun in early 2016. Over time, it seems less revisionist.
“The story of Club Intrawest”
Without Prejudice – Gwyneth Edwards
One day, long ago, a little company called Intrawest stared at their ski hills and all of their land and thought, “Let’s build some condos. If we build them, they will come.”
And so they built some fancy condos and placed them on the market. But soon enough they realized that their fancy condos competed with cottage country. Fancy people who wanted a second home wanted to be on the water. And Intrawest didn’t like competition.
“Let’s change our market,” they thought. “Let’s sell portions of condos instead, to the fancy people who have lots of money but not so much time. We will divide our condos into four and sell 16 weeks at a time. It will be a hit!”
So Intrawest partitioned their condos and sold them off in quarters, handing the deeds over to the fancy people. It worked, kind of. But 16 weeks is a long time and a lot of money. The 16-week fancy people market was very small.
When it seemed like the business was coming to an end, they wondered, “What should we do now? We made some money but now the real estate is gone, that’s no fun.”
So a few folks at Intrawest had an idea. “Let’s not sell any land or property, let’s just sell room nights.”
“You mean build a hotel?” said others.
“No,” said the smart ones, “Let’s start a timeshare.”
And so Intrawest built lots of properties, put them into a trust and gathered up their points. “How much should we charge?” asked the innocent ones. “A lot,” said the smart ones.
And so Intrawest went after all of the fancy people telling them all about this new idea. The fancy people were confused a bit about the points, but they were so impressed by the fancy condos and the promise of owning them for ever and ever, and passing them down to their little ones. The fancy people liked this, they felt good about themselves. Intrawest didn’t offer this wonderful opportunity to just anyone, just the fancy folks. And so the fancy people paid lots and lots of money for those points.
With the timeshare thing being such a hit, Intrawest had an idea. “Why don’t we create a fancy club for these folks? An exclusive club where the fancy people can meet year round, on the golf course, in yoga classes, on the ski hills. We will have wine and cheese (fancy people like that), and we will show them the culture of the land. They will learn about each other, about our wonderful continent, and their kids will have a home away from home.”
And so Intrawest created a fancy club, a club they called “Club Intrawest.”
And to run their fancy club, they wrote a whole bunch of documents. Pages and pages worth. And in those documents they called themselves different names, like declarant, developer, manager and the like. They liked this name game thing. Although the writers often got confused over who was who, it didn’t really matter in the end. They just kept writing documents and made sure that whatever was written, the money would end up all in one spot. And they called this spot Intrawest.
Running this new club was fun. The fancy people loved the deep dark red and loved telling their less-fancy friends, “I’m a Club Intrawest member, you?” And the less fancy folks would just shrug and say “You mean those ski hill folks?” “Yes,” said the fancy people, “they own the club.”
And so the fancy people were so happy because Intrawest treated them so well. “They spend so much money on us,” thought the fancy people. “They run such a great club.”
And Intrawest loved the fancy people because the fancy people told everyone the name of their club, this wonderful club, and everyone all over loved Club Intrawest. And Intrawest would take the club dues and do such great things with them. They would create more properties, sell more points, rent out rooms to other wanna-be fancy folks. It was all so much fun.
“Brilliant,” said the Intrawest CEO.
“Yes,” said the Intrawest people.
As time went on, Intrawest was feeling pretty good and so were the fancy members. But then 2008 hit and things didn’t go so well. Some fancy people were no longer fancy. They had a hard time paying their dues. And resort points were just a bit too fancy for others. And the little point buy-back list seemed to be growing longer every day. Intrawest, too, was feeling less fancy. They had to move back home, back to the fort. And Mum and Dad were a bit annoyed with all of all of the Intrawest shenanigans. Mum and Dad didn’t think that Intrawest was all that smart after all.
Intrawest was worried. Things were going downhill fast. “How many points do we still have?” asked one. “Not many,” said another. But then one of them had an idea, an idea they called Ucluelet. Ucluelet was magic. New points appeared and the Intrawest folks felt a bit better. “We have a bit more time,” they said.
But as time went on, Mum and Dad just got madder and madder. “This isn’t working,” they said. “It’s time for you to go.”
And so the Intrawest folks went out for a walk, searching for a new home. They walked down stretches of road, knocking on the doors of big beautiful houses. Some didn’t answer. And those who did listened for just a short time then gently closed the door. “No thank you,” they said. “Good luck.”
The Intrawest folks kept on walking until they found themselves in a wet, dark alley. Rats nipped at their toes. At the end of the alley they found a black door hidden within the shadows. They knocked on the door and were so happy to be greeted by a smiling face. “Come in,” said DRI. “We are so glad to see you.”