Whistler recently hosted the Telus World Ski and Snowboard Festival from April 11th to the 20th. In what has become an annual event for me, I made my usual pilgrimage to Whistler to attend; an attempt to escape the concrete, mortar, metal, and glass wilderness for the snowy peaks of British Columbia.

Upon unloading at the bus loop in the main village, I came to the realisation that my accommodations were actually in the upper village. This meant that all my gear had to be hauled to the proper location. I guess the gods wanted to make sure that I was properly warmed up and exposed to the nature I was so fervently seeking, so I ended up rolling my wheelie locker through Fitzsimmons trail (a failure of my geographic knowledge of the village indeed) to the condo. When I finally got myself and my gear to Glacier Lodge, it was time to ring up the peeps in order to exchange greetings, hugs, hi-fives, and tall tales. I tracked them down at the Longhorn and joined them up for a little après (après bus trip for me, après snowboarding for them).

The amazing thing about the Telus World Ski and Snowboard festival is that, although it only happens once a year, there's a sense of familiarity when you run into friends you haven't seen since the last festival. It was as though last year's festival never ended and everyone just picked up where they left off (with the possible exception of the new faces which were promptly integrated into the group of dirtbags).

Saturday morning finally rolled around and it was time for the long awaited first runs up Blackcomb to hold congress with the mountain. In keeping with my usual modus operandi of deep metaphysical self-discovery on the chairlift (not self-exploration you perverts), I got to thinking about the struggle between the physical and the divine. I was cogitating on the true nature of the connection between the body, soul, and the mountain. The physical connection is obvious (this was on my mind due to a knee injury sustained the week prior in Banff), but the spiritual connection was a bit more difficult to pin down.

I went snowboarding everyday that I was in Whistler resulting in my body being in various states of "ache and pain" throughout, but I felt content. The crew I was riding with was also changing daily from groups as large as twelve to being by myself. The same sense of contentment, however, was always there regardless of how large or small the group was. This led me to remember a quote from a famous Jedi master in the movie "The Empire Strikes Back." When Luke asks Yoda what might be found in the cave, Yoda's answer was "only what you take with you." This is significant in many ways and is especially evident on those solo freshie manoeuvres that I often partake in. It led me to realize that whenever I'm snowboarding, all my loved ones are there with me in their purest essence (without any noise caused by things so caustic as cliques or inter-personal drama). This I believe is where the spiritual comes in. Although Whistler/Blackcomb, the resort, is itself a morass of steel, concrete, cables and glass, when the p-tex hits the snow, none of that really matters, all that's there is what you brought with you. Although the sensations are dramatically physical, the exileration is just as dramatically spiritual and this is what drives me, and I'm sure many others, to pursue this congress with the mountain.

Between the crazy parties, the jokes about shi*t-tickets (toilet paper), the drinking, and the general shenanigans, the occasional runs on mahogany ridge, the important part of Telus seems to have been coming together with people we care about in the nature we all love. To borrow a phrase from a loved one, I left Whistler with my body having that used and abused feeling, however, I also left Whistler feeling enriched from revisiting old friendships and making new ones. With that, I can honestly say that I can't wait until next year's festival. I hope to see you all there. Until then...

Keep Shreddin' the GNAR!