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Pray-for-Snow 101: The Age-Old Ritual
by Beth Lopez (with additional comments by OG)
http://www.backcountry.com/store/newsletter/a656/Pray-for-Snow-101-The-Age-Old-Ritual.html?sssdmh=dm10.105658&cmp_id=EM_CON1027c&mv_pc=r202#
Every autumn, snow worshippers around the nation—nay, around the world—unite and engage in a sacred ritual called the Pray for Snow party. Anthropologists note that this ritual often includes multiple kegs of frothy beverages and bonfires large enough to be seen from outer space. Here in Utah’s Wasatch, we supplicate the snow saints for a solid 500+ inch year; in New Jersey, they pray for enough money to buy a ticket to Utah. We traveled the nation to give you a little inspiration for your own Pray for Snow Party.
How the Pros Do It:
In Brighton, Utah, folks dress up in their finest hats and plastic Mardi Gras beads, pirate some illegal Chinese fireworks, grab a few contraband kegs from Wyoming, and whoop it up with a bonfire full of melting skis as an offering to the snow gods. As folks pass out on the floor of the Brighton Lodge, soothed by the pungent scent of carcinogenic fumes and spilled beer, they dream of sugarplums (turbos) and early November snowflakes.
Not to be outdone, Colorado peeps up the ante: a week-long snowfest in Vail, Colorado, recruits Ute Indians to perform a traditional snow dance in full customary attire. And legend has it that in Steamboat, an annual Pray for Snow ritual involves a drinking exercise in which athletes drink vodka shots whenever the thermometer hits 32 degrees. (Chili Bombs anyone???)
A group of Aspen locals recently held a “Burning Gaper” ceremony, in which an effigy of Texan proportions was dressed in full beater-style (dare we say, Texan?) ski attire, lit on fire, and launched off someone’s roof. The thrilled mob of park rats and freeriders drank a colossal amount of Miller Lite in honor of the torching, cranking up the Stevie Wonder and gettin’ jiggy with it.
Last year, our fine freeridin’ comrades at Tahoe held a TGR movie party that even included Go-Go dancers. Reportedly, they weren’t even the cheap kind you get when you hire a local fraternity to dress up in spandex, moon boots, and fake breasts. No, these ones were real. (The dancers, we mean.)
Representing the East Coast snow spirit, the Wobbly Barn Steakhouse in Killington, Vermont hosts an annual Pray-for-Snow Halloween costume party of epic proportions. Local snow-worshippers reportedly lie awake on summer nights praying to Saint Poppov, the local patron saint of snow (and vodka), pleading for the year’s best costume idea, which wins a Killington season pass.
Pray on Your Own:
If you find the above tributes inspiring—are those tears in your eyes?—the time is right to start brainstorming your own party to the Gods of Winter. (attend a movie premiere or snow show!)
Ditch the macro-brew. A signature drink is always in order. Give folks a cocktail to remember. (Or not remember.) The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse kicks the party right into the Book of Revelations, which is as serious as you can get. (again....I can hear the Chili Bombs calling!)
Costumes are a must. The Snow Gods have to know you mean it. Make everyone wear white, or red, or even red dresses. You’ll lure more ladies to your shindig if they hear the entire ski patrol will be clad in red minidresses. Also, be sure to mandate hats—nothing says “I’m a serious athlete, and I’m here to party” like a quality sombrero. (I think maybe dancing with a pirate would work! Maybe the one at Puyallup last year was the reason the snow was so epic! Can we get him to the watering hole again Saturday night??)
DON’T burn skis. It’s very last-season. Try burning larger items instead—like old cars and chicken sheds. (sacrifical sleds anyone??) Then go inside and turn on some old Greg Stump (sledding flicks...please!) movies. Made back in ’85 when park rats sported real rat-tail mullets, these flicks make amusing references to the passing fad later known as snowboarding.
Finish it right. As all good things must come to an end, you must close the evening properly. (How about another thrilling rendition of Hairy Bear's "I touch myself" karoke? Mark - are you listening!!?? Or an exciting end of the night ride to the hotel in the rental van - the not meant to be a 4x4, 4x4 rental van! ) Find the only homeowners on the block who can afford a hot tub—yes, the ones who are out of town—and escort your guests there. It’s actually your hot tub; it’s just separated from your house by a fence. Your guests will thank you, the ladies will swoon (yeah right!! Swoon?), and the Snow Gods will smile upon your entire community with plenty o’ white stuff.
by Beth Lopez (with additional comments by OG)
http://www.backcountry.com/store/newsletter/a656/Pray-for-Snow-101-The-Age-Old-Ritual.html?sssdmh=dm10.105658&cmp_id=EM_CON1027c&mv_pc=r202#
Every autumn, snow worshippers around the nation—nay, around the world—unite and engage in a sacred ritual called the Pray for Snow party. Anthropologists note that this ritual often includes multiple kegs of frothy beverages and bonfires large enough to be seen from outer space. Here in Utah’s Wasatch, we supplicate the snow saints for a solid 500+ inch year; in New Jersey, they pray for enough money to buy a ticket to Utah. We traveled the nation to give you a little inspiration for your own Pray for Snow Party.
How the Pros Do It:
In Brighton, Utah, folks dress up in their finest hats and plastic Mardi Gras beads, pirate some illegal Chinese fireworks, grab a few contraband kegs from Wyoming, and whoop it up with a bonfire full of melting skis as an offering to the snow gods. As folks pass out on the floor of the Brighton Lodge, soothed by the pungent scent of carcinogenic fumes and spilled beer, they dream of sugarplums (turbos) and early November snowflakes.
Not to be outdone, Colorado peeps up the ante: a week-long snowfest in Vail, Colorado, recruits Ute Indians to perform a traditional snow dance in full customary attire. And legend has it that in Steamboat, an annual Pray for Snow ritual involves a drinking exercise in which athletes drink vodka shots whenever the thermometer hits 32 degrees. (Chili Bombs anyone???)
A group of Aspen locals recently held a “Burning Gaper” ceremony, in which an effigy of Texan proportions was dressed in full beater-style (dare we say, Texan?) ski attire, lit on fire, and launched off someone’s roof. The thrilled mob of park rats and freeriders drank a colossal amount of Miller Lite in honor of the torching, cranking up the Stevie Wonder and gettin’ jiggy with it.
Last year, our fine freeridin’ comrades at Tahoe held a TGR movie party that even included Go-Go dancers. Reportedly, they weren’t even the cheap kind you get when you hire a local fraternity to dress up in spandex, moon boots, and fake breasts. No, these ones were real. (The dancers, we mean.)
Representing the East Coast snow spirit, the Wobbly Barn Steakhouse in Killington, Vermont hosts an annual Pray-for-Snow Halloween costume party of epic proportions. Local snow-worshippers reportedly lie awake on summer nights praying to Saint Poppov, the local patron saint of snow (and vodka), pleading for the year’s best costume idea, which wins a Killington season pass.
Pray on Your Own:
If you find the above tributes inspiring—are those tears in your eyes?—the time is right to start brainstorming your own party to the Gods of Winter. (attend a movie premiere or snow show!)
Ditch the macro-brew. A signature drink is always in order. Give folks a cocktail to remember. (Or not remember.) The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse kicks the party right into the Book of Revelations, which is as serious as you can get. (again....I can hear the Chili Bombs calling!)
Costumes are a must. The Snow Gods have to know you mean it. Make everyone wear white, or red, or even red dresses. You’ll lure more ladies to your shindig if they hear the entire ski patrol will be clad in red minidresses. Also, be sure to mandate hats—nothing says “I’m a serious athlete, and I’m here to party” like a quality sombrero. (I think maybe dancing with a pirate would work! Maybe the one at Puyallup last year was the reason the snow was so epic! Can we get him to the watering hole again Saturday night??)
DON’T burn skis. It’s very last-season. Try burning larger items instead—like old cars and chicken sheds. (sacrifical sleds anyone??) Then go inside and turn on some old Greg Stump (sledding flicks...please!) movies. Made back in ’85 when park rats sported real rat-tail mullets, these flicks make amusing references to the passing fad later known as snowboarding.
Finish it right. As all good things must come to an end, you must close the evening properly. (How about another thrilling rendition of Hairy Bear's "I touch myself" karoke? Mark - are you listening!!?? Or an exciting end of the night ride to the hotel in the rental van - the not meant to be a 4x4, 4x4 rental van! ) Find the only homeowners on the block who can afford a hot tub—yes, the ones who are out of town—and escort your guests there. It’s actually your hot tub; it’s just separated from your house by a fence. Your guests will thank you, the ladies will swoon (yeah right!! Swoon?), and the Snow Gods will smile upon your entire community with plenty o’ white stuff.
