Apex Village Sighting

by Alex D. (Named Changed for privacy)
Approximate sighting date was November 2007

NOTE: Apex Village is in the Interior of British Columbia, about 33 km west of Penticton.

When I was a young man I was one of two lads working night-shifts on Apex Mountain Ski Resort, here in British Columbia ~ we were snow-makers, maintaining large turbo-fan / pressurized water-guns. We rode around in truck and / or skidoos each night-shift, from place to place all over the mountain from late October to mid-January.

Around 11pm one evening, my buddy Neil and I arrived in Apex Village at the resort, put on our gear in the workstation below, grabbed hand-tools and climbed into the Apex work truck to make our way up the ‘cat-track’ to the snowline. Rob and I were the only two [Apex employees] on the mountain at that hour of the night.

We exited the truck from the snowline where we had parked, and were slogging our way a little higher up the mountain to the top of the Okanagan run, in order to access a heated building that housed the main compression system. This building’s equipment pressurized the underground water lines on that side of the mountain, and was our first stop each evening. During the walk from where we parked the truck (snowline), and the pump-house, Neil stopped to light up a cigarette and I walked on a few dozen feet further, then stopped and waited for him. I was standing there, staring at the night sky, impressed as I always was at how dark and quiet the mountain nights were before we turned on all of the equipment. At this point we were about a third of the way up the mountain overall, which begins at 5000 feet above sea level in a valley which hosts Apex Village, and tops out at a little over 7000 feet in elevation. It must’ve been early November, as the snowline was still quite low (which dictated how far up towards the pump-house we could drive the truck). Rob’s smoke-stop stop put us at around 600+ feet above the valley floor.

As I turned to my left to take in the breadth of the valley, I saw clear as a bell, a cluster / arrangement of three white-ish lights, in a triangular shape, moving dead-quiet down the middle of the valley. If I had to wild-guess at the speed it was moving I’d say between 80 and 100 km/h - but that’s a completely baseless ‘guesstimate’. As for the look of the ‘device’; if you envision something roughly the shape of a water molecule, with the little sticks connecting three globes; kinda’ like this:

 …you have the general picture.

This thing, however, appeared to be more or less symmetrical, both in the triangular distribution of it’s orbs as well as the shape and size of each of the three which it was made up of. I don’t recall actually seeing any ‘connecting rods’ between them, but I suspect that was formulated in my mind due to far too many hours in school, staring at molecular charts, which has my brain assuming that anything in that general shape is connected with ‘rods’(?).

It traveled toward the South-East, perhaps a hundred or so (?) feet higher again than our own elevation as we stood on the side of the mountain, above the valley floor. It’s path was more or less in the middle of the valley, perhaps traveling a little closer to our side than the other, and it kept abruptly snapping position changes in a forward cart-wheeling manner. All the while, it was moving in a smooth, unimpeded flow forward, without any ‘jerkiness’ as it cart-wheeled and halted it’s rotation. It appeared that the ‘orbs’ were exchanging position with one-another, but one could clearly see that there was a definite clockwise / cart-wheeling motion, like a ‘tumbling forward’ effect. It would rotate forward, pause in it’s rotation [but not in the overall cluster’s forward motion as a whole], then rotate clockwise again, pause a half-second or so, etc.

In the few moments that I was able to observe it, this same motion was exhibited and repeated precisely. As already mentioned, but which particularly struck me, was that throughout it’s progressive rotations & pauses, the overall cluster never paused at all in it’s forward movement. Nor did it create any sound whatsoever at any point. I recall noting the complete quiet atmosphere.

I stood absolutely dumbfounded for a few seconds, watching it as it passed before me, perhaps less than a few kms away from where I was standing. Then, as it was moving up the valley to my right I turned and screamed something that I think was pretty much unintelligible at Neil: something like "Dude, fuckin’ Dude!!! He was staring into the cupped palm of his hand which was protecting his lighter’s flame from a breeze, and drawing on his cigarette. The look in his eyes demonstrated to me that he didn’t have a clue what I was on about. All the while I was subconsciously tracking the progress of the device in my head. I recall thinking that it would be out of sight in mere moments, so I wheeled back around to see the object and noted that it was disappearing out of sight behind some trees on the far edge of the clearing that we were standing on (the cat-track, three-quarters of the way down what is, in the winter, the 'Chute' ski run)

I dropped my gear and ran like hell towards the pump-house (up the rough truck / cat-track, about a half km from us), the same direction that the device was heading, catching glimpses of it through a thin stand of trees beyond me and to my left as I ran. I could see that it was massively outpacing me, but I had in mind the idea of getting to the next wide run beyond the stand of trees so that I might be able to watch the device as it disappeared around the front of the mountain and / or, further down the valley. I ran as fast as I could, but arrived to a black sky, not a trace of the device to be seen as it had already rounded the mountain. I remember being very disappointed as I had a feeling deep down inside myself that this was a once in a lifetime chance.

It was about then that I realized that I was going to have to spend most of the next 8 hours alone on the mountains, ‘in the middle of nowhere’ as I rode a skidoo from snow-gun to snow-gun all over the mountain. The routine was that Rob and I would split up at the pump house, taking turns night-on-night; one of us on skidoo to maintain the higher guns, the other would stay on the Okanagan run (our main, gently-sloping ski-run), and simply walk up and down between the three or four guns stationed there, keeping them from icing up and imploding as well as making sure that the main pump-station didn’t overheat.

It was my turn to skidoo to the higher snow-guns and around back of the mountain to the guns at the old triple-chair. Skidoo duty is generally thought of as the ‘good job’ of the evening, but it’s a little different when you’ve just seen the freakiest thing in your existence and you’re alone in the middle of nowhere, in pitch black, save for the narrow beam of an old-Skidoo headlight. "Did it land", "is it making laps"? "Is this thing watching me as I cruise along on a cat track miles from humanity at 3am"? It made for an interesting night…

Neil he didn’t see a thing, aside from a freaked out look on my face, me stammering something nearly unintelligible and bolting up the cat track for absolutely no apparent reason. He must’ve thought I’d flipped my lid! I soon related the whole thing to him, but he was quite skeptical, giving me one of those "are you messing with me man" looks. We’d only known one-another for about a year at that point, and given my words & actions on that cat-track, I guess he was bound to have his doubts. If that bugger wasn’t so damned addicted to nicotine, he would have had the show of his life!

There was however a night-watchman on duty at what used to be the Delta Hotel in Apex Village that evening. I knew that he was on night-shift, janitorial / security (this was only a short time before the opening day of the Resort’s winter ski season), so I spoke to him the next evening, hoping that someone else had witnessed what I saw, if only to reassure myself of my own sanity I suppose. Sure enough, it turns out that he was standing outside the Delta getting some fresh air when he saw a brief moment of the device’s travels as well. He didn’t see it in the sky as long as I had, as his position in the valley floor robbed him of the commanding view I had at elevation. He experienced it as a triangle of lights appearing from beyond the top gable of the Delta Hotel and disappearing quickly beyond the rooftops of the adjacent Gun-Barrel Saloon. I allowed him to describe to me what he saw without tipping my hand of a description, and sure enough, it was the same object I had been viewing. It was obvious that he was as happy to learn that I too had seen the ‘thing’, as I suspect he was looking for mental self-reassurance as much as I was!

Iíve included a screenshot from Google Earth to give you a lay of the land. I know itís pretty low-resolution, but that section of BC isnít high-res mapped on Google yet.

So, that’s my true story. I am convinced that there are some freaky cats from other worlds that are checking us out. I have no idea why they haven’t bothered to obliterate us. I mean, really, we’re really just a bunch of idiots, a complete danger to nearly every other plant and animal around us; pissing, shitting and dumping all manner of chemicals into our clean water, brutally thrashing the only atmosphere we have, sitting on more nuclear power than it takes to destroy every life form on earth many times over and killing each other by the thousands each day… Then again, perhaps it’s just that they’re taking a "sit back and let them annihilate one-another, be patient, it’s only a matter of time…" strategy?!

Alex D.

*NOTE - Names have been changed to protect the identity of the witnesses.