You are known by many names: "Khione" by the ancient Greeks, "Kun Aymara" by Bolivian tribes, and "Ullr" by both Norse cultures and that Rastafarian dude on the chairlift. But you have shown me great favour when I call you "Nigel," so I’ll just stick with that, OK?
Take my ski trip to B.C. this past week: Over those seven days, oh great and powerful Nigel, you blanketed the respective slopes of Sun Peaks, Kicking Horse and Revelstoke in 26, 25 and 47 (!!!) centimetres of snow.
I may have arrived too early to partake of the recent favours you granted Sun Peaks, but with Canada’s best groomers at work it was no big deal. Besides, your powdery handiwork was still plentiful and pristine in the newly in-bounds and hike-accessible "Gil's" terrain atop Mt. Tod (pictured above).
As is my custom, I "sacrificed" a pair of frosty local microbrews in your name – Okanagan Spring 1516 Lager, to be exact – and humbly requested that you focus your benevolent, exuberantly-bearded powers on Kicking Horse, my next stop.
But in your infinite and fleecilly-vested wisdom, you held off. You waited until I had crossed 360 clicks of Trans-Canada Highway – including Roger’s Pass, home to the world's largest mobile avalanche control program – before unleashing your powers of precipitation. This not only made for a relaxing ride, oh merciful and transcendentally-trousered Nigel, but it allowed me to pause while passing the Enchanted Forest, 3 Valley Gap and the Burner Restaurant (pictured below), as well as the various other roadside attractions that make this stretch of highway the quirkiest in all the land. Also, it gave me both the time and courage to dine upon a very large cinnamon bun (pictured below) at Sprockets Cafe near Salmon Arm.
Very large cinnamon buns, it turns out, are also worthy "sacrifices" to your gloriousness, for no sooner did I partake of the outdoor hot tub at Kicking Horse’s Palliser Lodge than fat flakes started falling from the sky. You may not have unleashed your full powers, but your efforts that night, and again two days hence, were joyfully received on the north ridge of the Terminator 2 peak. (That must have been why the Rastafarian dude never stopped grinning.)
Your powers were not quite as joyfully received as I retraced my route along Highway 1 en route to Revelstoke. But at least you didn’t cause an avalanche closure. On that note, the timing of the Rogers Pass shutdowns – the day before I arrived at Kicking Horse, and again the day after I departed – did not go unnoticed.
The double-edged sword you wield also fell heavily upon Revelstoke Mountain Resort that day, turning Greely Bowl (pictured below) into a powdery paradise I'll never forget. It was so sublime, oh portly and fashionably-bespectacled Nigel, that I saw fit to "dedicate" anywhere from two to five Mt. Begbie microbrews (pictured below) to your glorious, polysyllabic and relatively common name.
Your most humble and achingly-legged servant,
PS: Do you also like nachos? Just wondering…