Maxed Out

Welcome to Fiordland, B.C. Population: Countless. Unless you're counting humans, in which case the population is sparse, rugged and fiercely independent, as befits the land, er, water. Fiordland is termed a recreation area.

On the cusp of summer's solstice, Whistler has doffed its guise as Ski Resort and enthusiastically embraced its alter ego as Mountain Resort.

With all the discord and discourse floating around about cultural appropriation, I'm not entirely certain what I can and can't write about these days.

Depending on which wise saying you prefer, either the devil or God, perhaps both, are in the details.

Victoria Day marks the beginning of summer in Canada. Doesn't matter whether the long weekend happens to fall during a particularly nasty bit of weather.

Who leads when the leader is lost? In any quasi-normal situation, someone takes over. Next in command. Natural leader. Unnatural leader who rises to the occasion. Somebody. Not so, apparently, in B.C. politics.

Stools — real stools, not barstools — have three legs. A tripod is inherently stable.

When I moved to Canada, I woke up in Montréal. Coming from the mountains and deserts and small towns and cities of the American southwest, Montréal cast Canada in an extremely foreign light.

On Monday morning — the last one, not the next one — the snow base at Pig Alley was 259 centimetres... on Whistler Mountain... which was closed for the season. There was not insignificant snow in the forecast for later in the week.

Skiing and snowboarding are inherently risky activities. I know because, well, I'm not totally oblivious to the obvious. Unfortunately, many oblivious people apparently ski and snowboard.