“We three kings of Orient are
Bearing gifts we traverse afar
Field and fountain
Moor and mountain
Following yonder star…”

​The Crash Test Dummies’ baritonal rendition of the holiday classic jingles out of the rental-car stereo just as Sommet Saint-Sauveur’s starry lights come into view. It’s just past 4pm on Dec. 23, and as usual I’m driving from the Central Train Station in Montreal to the family chalet near Mont Tremblant.

Sauveur’s night-skiing operations, and others like them, have been lighting my way along the Laurentian Autoroute for years. But unlike the biblical Magi, who famously followed a star, I have always bypassed the valley’s beckoning beacons.

Not so this year. With ski gear in the trunk, fresh flakes on the highway and a few hours to spare, some warm-up laps sound like just the thing before hitting the slopes of Eastern Canada’s largest ski resort.

It turns out to be one of the best pit-stops I’ve ever made. So great, in fact, that I’ve taken three more detours along the Corduroy Highway, as I’ve come to call it, since then. There’s certainly no shortage of options: With a dozen impeccably-groomed hills lining the 70 kilometres of blacktop between between Sauveur and Tremblant, the Riviere du Nord valley is home to Canada's densest concentration of ski areas, all of which are making the most of 2019 spring skiing thanks to one of the best snowfall seasons on record.

This ski-area abundance goes back to the late 19th century, when the P'tit Train du Nord railway line — now Canada’s longest multi-use rail trail — first linked Sainte-Agathe-des-Monts and Montreal. This made it much easier for city-dwellers to explore the region, which became even more popular when one of North America’s first mechanical ski lifts was installed on Mont Saint-Sauveur in 1934. In those early years local hotels tended to operate their own lifts, many of which serviced single runs. No wonder more than 220 ski operations are said to have opened in the valley since 1900.

Another pleasant surprise: Despite their proximity and shared Laurentian setting, the four resorts I’ve sampled so far are pleasingly varied, with histories, personalities, terrain, cuisine and quirks all their own. What makes each worthy of much more than a pit-stop? Here’s what I’ve discovered so far:

Sommet Saint-Sauveur
The record-setting extent of Sauveur’s nightskiing hits home as I stand at the top of the L’Atomic Expresshigh-speed quad. Radiating outward like the spokes of a massive whitewashed wagon wheel, the six wonderfully groomed runs below me might account for the full extent of evening descents at many much larger ski areas. At Sauveur, however, more than 70 per cent of the 40 trails are illuminated, yielding 48 hectares of floodlit terrain — reputed to be the most extensive on Earth.

My nocturnal opportunities feel limitless. To the left and right, beginner-friendly traverses lead to seven more of Sauveur’s lifts, as well as to the three that climb adjoining Sommet Avila. I charge down the single-black Côte 70 Est in front of me as if the world’s last remaining order of poutine is waiting for me at the bottom. Thankfully, Sauveur’s stylish T-Bar 70 restaurant has plenty of fresh cheese curds and gravy on hand, as well as the breaded chicken strips, crispy bacon and pepper sauce it adds to its signature version of Quebec’s famous dish. A crisp Griffintown craft pilsner caps my pit stop within a pit stop, and I head back out to carve down groomer after groomer.

CLICK HERE TO READ THE REST OF THE STORY IN SKI CANADA MAGAZINE

Last year, I learned a valuable lesson in Ellicottville: Craft beer is obliterating the stereotype that American brews are weak and watery.

Now, I'm learning something else: A private ski resort isn't always a private ski resort. 

Eighteen months after our first visit to charming Ellicottville, the brood and I are back to check out nearby HoliMont, the largest private ski area in the United States (by membership). The good news for non-members like us is that HoliMont is open to the public on weekdays, which is how we've been able to ski there. The resort's 46 trails and eight lifts are providing some textbook spring skiing, with the welcoming atmosphere enhanced by stone fireplaces in the expansive main lodge and floor-to-ceiling windows facing the snowy slopes.

Spring skiing, especially with children who are learning to snowboard, provides a natural excuse to enjoy a beer or three. And as is the case with 12.6 percent of Ontario March Breaks, St. Patrick's Day just happens to be the very last day of this year's nine-day parental gauntlet.

Good thing the Ellicottville Brewing Co.'s wares are so well-represented at nearby Holiday Valley, the largest public ski area in New York State. The eponymous lodge's raucous T-Bar lounge pours a Ski Bum hoppy ale and a Blueberry Wheat Ale garnished with real berries. Next door, the fifth outpost of the Massachusetts-based John Harvard's Brewery is home to 20-plus taps, including a decadent Chocolate Cherry Bomb Imperial Stout produced by Ellicottville Brewing.

Craft beers multiply exponentially during the annual Holiday Valley Beer and Wine Festival, when more than 30 brewers crowd the resort's base area each November. For even more sudsy variety, EBC's stylish dining and entertainment complex serves up flights and brewery tours.

READ MORE OF MY CRAFT BEER-MEETS-SKIING STORY IN THE GLOBE AND MAIL

My dad is no help when I ask about Father's Day gifts. Not that I blame him: The occasion didn’t exist when he was growing up in Wiltshire, and his English stoicism dictates that gifts are pointless trifles and we should just bloody well get on with it.

Thankfully, there are two gifts I can always fall back on: Beer and Mars bars. He's not a big drinker, but Dad does enjoy a brown pop now and then. And if you've ever paired a nice pilsner with a Mars you know where he's coming from.

Like father like son I suppose: When my own daughters ask about Father's Day, beer is usually at the top of my wish list. (Just above well-behaved children and a Calgary Flames Snuggie.) Not only is it beer, but thanks to the explosion of craft brewing in Ontario some legitimate surprise and excitement surrounds the gift presentation. It’s become a kind of family tradition: The girls visit the LCBO with their mom — because the Beer Store is the Worst. Business. Ever. — and each of them selects one tall can.

This is perfect, because two tall tins are usually all I need — on the patio, on the disc-golf course, on the dock, in the stands at the wild cow milking competition, you get the idea. I do a lot of work with the Canadian Men’s Health Foundation, and it has opened my eyes to the senselessness of over-imbibing. Where before a six-pack (or more) would somehow disappear in my presence, two tall tins do the trick these days.

Speaking of wild cow milking, my love of tall tins has inspired me to write these country music lyrics:

Hey there Tall Tin
You look kinda thin
But you hold much more than a stubby

And once you're all gone
I've got my buzz on
Without getting excessively chubby

With you, yes, it's true
That just two will do
Instead of a gut-forming 'sixer

So here's to you, Tin
Now let us begin
Time to savour your golden elixir

I’m working on adding some music in time for Canadian Men’s Health Week (June 11-17), but these damn banjo strings keep breaking! Can anyone out there play the juice harp? Help me out, and I’ll treat you to a Mars bar and a pair of tall tins...

Attn: Alex Behring and the rest of the Restaurant Brands International executive team.

First, let me congratulate you on the enormous, if somewhat unwarranted, popularity of your coffee-and-doughnuts chain. I very much enjoy your sour cream-glazed pastries, especially when nuked for about 30 seconds and paired with anything but your coffee.

That said, after visiting several of New Zealand’s ubiquitous roadside cafes, I feel many of the products and services available at these independent establishments could be implemented across the Tim Hortons chain to great effect. With that in mind, here are six New Year's resolutions I suggest for your brand:

1. Offer eel feeding: I know you’re always looking to create memorable customer experiences, and I now know that nothing is more memorable than feeding tame eels from the verdant banks of a shimmering brook. Of course, not every Tim Hortons location is as picturesque and pastoral as that of the Jester House Cafe near Nelson, NZ, but surely some kind of aquarium set-up could do the trick? Plus, I’m pretty sure the Jester’s $2-a-cup eel food is identical to your chicken salad.
2. Go gluten-free: Incredibly, not a single one of your myriad baked items is gluten-free. Walk into any NZ cafe, and several GF options are usually available, clearly labeled, and delicious to boot. Try the caramel squares and thank me later. 
3. More for the kids: Do children enjoy Timbits and hot chocolate? Did Mr. Horton like to drop the gloves? Yet, you make little or no effort to entertain the little ones. At the Jester, on the other hand, there’s a veritable enchanted forest of whimsical play structures, wooden musical instruments, and even a “borrow-a-tail” dress-up station. Any one of these features would be hugely appreciated by parents and kids alike, while the latter would appeal to the Harajuku crowd you are always trying to entice.
4. Serve drinky-drinks: All the NZ cafes I’ve visited offer a pleasing variety of local microbrews and wines. ‘Nuff said.
5. Bring me my food: I’m not suggesting you hire servers. Rather, instead of taking my order and tempting me to watch the unnerving preparation of my chicken salad sandwich, why not do as Kiwi cafes do and simply hand me a number on a stick so I can wait at my table? Fewer angry mobs at the pickup counter, fewer bleary-eyed customers spilling their heavily-laden trays, it’s all good.
6. Offer overnight accommodations: You know that guy who spends 14 hours a day in your Kinmount location? Why not give him the option to spend the night? Now, I doubt the Jester’s fairytale-boot lodgings would appeal to every Timmy’s customer, but maybe a hockey puck- or Timbit-shaped room would suffice? Combine this with some gluten-free treats, a gigantic wooden snail, a few local microbrews and a modest school of hungry eels, and you simply can’t lose. 

Once these resolutions are adopted, I will require two types of compensation for my consulting services: A lifetime supply of the Licorice Cafe's caramel squares; and a written guarantee that Tim Hortons will never, ever, expand to New Zealand.

Who can blame Paul Izdebski, co-owner of the Beer Bus, for looking ahead to his next guided tour of Simcoe Country’s breweries?

After all, he explains, he’s about to host a stag and a stagette party — at the same time. “Both groups know the other is on the tour, but they’ve never actually met,” he says, adding dryly: “It could be an interesting Friday night.”

It has already been an interesting Friday morning and afternoon with the three-month-old Beer Bus Co., a new arrival on the Toronto brewery tour scene and a key supporter of a new “Beer Around the Bay” tour that showcases five breweries clustered near the southern shores of Georgian Bay: Creemore Springs – Simcoe’s most famous brewing trailblazer – and pleasingly diverse craft players including Northwinds Brewhouse and Kitchen, The Collingwood Brewery, Side Launch Brewing Co. and Wasaga Beach Brewing Co. 

Northwinds is an ideal mood-setter and appetite-whetter for beer enthusiasts arriving in Collingwood after work or after dark. The 15-barrel brewhouse sells most of its wares in its lively brewpub and restaurant, where 16 taps pour pints and flights of everything from the Old Baldy Farmhouse Ale and Lost Cabin Vienna Lager to collaborations with other like-minded breweries. The cuisine is as spirited as the suds and the setting – think buffalo cauliflower tacos with lime guacamole and cactus pico. As at most of the Beer Around the Bay breweries, Northwinds’ finest can also be purchased at a retail counter.

After picking up guests at Collingwood accommodations, ranging from chain hotels and condo resorts to the lovely Bacchus House B&B, the Beer Bus sets off for the six-hour tour’s first stop. The morning mist still clings to the verdant fields as the shiny white shuttle rolls into Creemore Springs’ namesake town, where stylish boutiques and galleries lure the new arrivals away from the century-old former hardware store fronting the brewery. But the airy reception area and tasting bar soon regains their attention, as does a guided tour (pictured above) of a craft brewer that has gone on to much bigger, but identically unpasteurized and delicious, things.

A 30-minute drive north, Side Launch Brewing Co. embraces its lakeside location with a lake freighter logo and a name that references ship-launching in Collingwood’s shallow harbour. The no-nonsense operation follows the stringent Bavarian purity law of 1516 that limits beer to only four ingredients: Water, hops, yeast and malted barley. This straightforward approach is paying dividends, with Side Launch earning “Brewery of the Year” honours at the 2016 Canadian Brewing Awards. A few sips of its surprisingly light and lively Munich-style dark ale reveals that these kudos are well-deserved.

Despite soaking up beer samples with a lavish lunch at the Huron Club in downtown Collingwood, three afternoon options seem viable: Nap, nap, or seek a second wind. Thankfully, the latter is easy to come by in outdoorsy Simcoe County. While the Beer Bus takes a break in Wasaga Beach — the tours are highly customizable — Free Spirit Tours hosts an hour-long kayak excursion on the Nottawasaga River. Waterfowl, kingfishers and turtles abound as the boats cut through the gently rippling current, which is flanked by towering parabolic sand dunes formed by the glacial torrents of the most recent Ice Age.
​
READ THE REST OF THE STORY IN THE GLOBE AND MAIL

Travel elicits many emotions, from awe to anger and from upgrade ecstasy to gift-shop remorse. But over the course of my Canadian wanderings there’s something more: Pride. That's what this daily series is all about: Sharing my proud perspective on the places and experiences that make my country the greatest on Earth. Some of my selections are world-famous, others are little-known, and a few are acquired tastes. This open letter, meanwhile, is addressed to Nigel, the God of Snow...
 
Dear Nigel,
 
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 stick with that, OK?
 
Take my ski trip to Kicking Horse and Revelstoke a couple years back. Over those five days, oh great and powerful Nigel, you blanketed the resorts’ respective slopes in 25 and 47 centimetres of powder.
 
As is my custom upon arriving at Calgary International Airport, I sacrificed a frosty local microbrew in your name – a Last Best Show Pony Ale to be exact – and humbly requested that you focus your benevolent, exuberantly-bearded powers on Kicking Horse, my first stop on the northern section of B.C.'s aptly-named Powder Highway.
 
But in your infinite and fleecily-vested wisdom, you held off. You waited until I had crossed 280 kms of Trans-Canada Highway, and dined upon some mind-blowing poutine at Peaks Grill, before unleashing your powers of precipitation. Indeed, no sooner did the curds caress my lips 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 (pictured above). That must have been why the Rastafarian dude never stopped grinning.
 
Your powers were not quite as joyfully received during my white-knuckle drive west across Roger’s Pass, home to the world's largest mobile avalanche control program. On the plus side, the double-edged sword you wield fell heavily upon Revelstoke Mountain Resort that night, turning Greely Bowl into a snowy 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 to your glorious, polysyllabic and relatively common name.
 
Which leads me to the thrust of this letter: Would you like nachos next time?
 
Sincerely,
 
Your most humble and achingly-legged servant,
 
Adam
 
WHERE TO STAY
Late-night arrivals to YYC can’t do much better than the Delta Hotels Calgary Airport In-Terminal, which is connected to the terminal buildings via a skywalk and features three eateries, a saltwater pool and a roomy hot tub. Your aching legs will thank you.

Dear Nigel,

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.

Sincerely,

Your most humble and achingly-legged servant,

Adam

PS: Do you also like nachos? Just wondering…