The shuttle driver who drove me from Calgary to Banff broke the news: “When I got to the van this morning, it was minus 35.”

“Degrees?” I asked.

He wasn’t lying, although that’s not as bad as it sounds. A quick calculation told me that minus 35 degrees Celsius is the equivalent of minus 31 degrees Fahrenheit. And by the time we got to town, temperatures had risen to a relatively warm minus 25 celsius – minus 13 Fahrenheit.

I’m staying in Banff, Alberta this week, venturing out to surrounding ski resorts. My trip happens to coincide with the coldest cold snap of the year up here.

Even the locals think it’s cold, which is why hardly anyone was skiing Mount Norquay yesterday, when Simon Moffatt, who works for the resort, spent the day showing me around the mountain.

I loved it. Norquay is old school and small, with an unassuming lodge that serves amazing food (try the beet salad!), just four lifts (only one high-speed) and some amazingly steep terrain.

In the morning, we made some runs, then took a break to thaw with hot cocoa or coffee.

Thankfully, the sun was shining. Tiny particles of snow drifting through the air caught the light like glitter.

It was so cold my thumbs went numb, my toes lost feeling and my face hurt. The snot and slobber on my neck buff froze and refroze, scraping against my chin.

At one point, I told Simon my forehead hurt and I wasn’t sure why. “Like an ice cream headache?” he asked knowingly.

Exactly.

We stopped at a warming hut, where he detected a gap between my goggles and the balaklava tucked under my helmet. I adjusted; we headed out again. Much better.

During lunch, we gazed up at a super steep run off the resort’s North American lift. Moguls from top to bottom. Surely that would warm us up.

We caught the lift. At the top, we took some time to take pictures (tough when your fingers don’t work properly) and then pointed our skis down. I took my time, making turns around the snow humps. And here’s what I found out: Skiing the steep bumpy stuff warms you up, even when it’s well below freezing.

By the time I hit the bottom, my muscles had warmed and I felt quite fine.

We headed to the other side of the resort, where we rode a few (empty) lifts and raced down plenty of (empty) trails, the sun still shining.

The views here blow me away. You can see all the way into Banff, tucked at the foot of Rundle Mountain.

Today I’m heading to Sunshine ski resort, where it’s currently minus 26.

No problem.

No more driving all the way to Enchanted Rock State Natural Area just to get turned away at the gate.

Officials from the Texas State Parks Department unveiled a new system Wednesday that allows visitors to buy day passes in advance, reserve specific campsites or buy or renew a Texas State Parks Pass online.

The system, which works on a computer or smart phone, lets visitors purchase day-use passes up to one month in advance, guaranteeing access to parks even during weekends and holidays, according to a press release. At some busy parks, pass holders must designate a specific arrival time.

The new system is designed to alleviate growing crowds at state parks. Read my article about long lines at Enchanted Rock here.

“We are excited to introduce these helpful features to park visitors and provide a new way to efficiently schedule a trip, either for the day or overnight, to any Texas State Park,” Rodney Franklin, director of Texas State Parks, said in the release. “These options give park goers the ability to plan their perfect state park vacation, no matter where and when they want travel.”

Visitors don’t have to wait until they get to a park to pick their campsite, either. The system allows visitors to look at photos and get details like utilities, amount of shade and parking pad size for each campsite, shelter or cabin ahead of time. They can search the website by park name or site type, and groups can pick and reserve neighboring sites.

Existing park reservations have been moved into the new system, officials said. (If you have trouble, call 512-389-8900.) As the new system goes online, wait times at the Customer Service Center are expected to be longer than normal.

For more information about the system, or to make a reservation to a Texas State Park, visit www.texasstateparks.org/reservations.

 

 

Suddenly, picking out a pair of snow skis feels a little bit like ordering a pizza from a gourmet shop, or getting a new custom-tailored suit.

I dropped by Wagner Skis, located in Mountain Village, a gondola ride up the mountain from the historic mining town of Telluride, during a trip to the resort two weeks ago. The company makes custom-designed skis, based on what craftsmen there called your “skier DNA.”

The shop had already closed for the day when I visited, but it seemed like half the town had shown up for a block party outside, and a bartender was mixing drinks on the sidewalk out front. Marketing specialist Heidi Lauterbach ushered a small group of us inside the factory for a quick look around.

Customers, she explained while I sipped a cocktail and gazed at an array of machines that buzz, shape and form snow skis, consult with one of the company’s four ski designers via a phone call, Skype conference or in-person visit. By weighing what type of terrain that customer prefers, how aggressively he or she skis and what type of skis they’ve liked in the past, the designers come up with a plan for a ski that is uniquely theirs.

She explained that Pete Wagner, a former mechanical engineer and programmer, started the company in an old gas station outside Telluride. Today he applies his technical aptitude to determining what materials to use to craft a ski with the stiffness, maneuverability and power you want.

He’ll also plaster your kid’s artwork or a photo of your dog all over your skis, or play your favorite rock song while they’re built, just for good mojo. One customer even requested – and got – Wagner’s ski craftsmen to bake a little bacon grease and his dog’s ashes into a new pair of skis.

Lauterbach walked us through the ski-making process, showing us stacks of thin-sliced sliced aspen, poplar, cedar and other wood used to make the core of the skis.

“It’s like a layer cake, and this is the base,” she explained, showing us how different materials, including a sheet of bullet-proof Kevlar, are bonded to make each pair.

 

I left coveting a pair of skis from the company, where the base models start at about $1,750 a pair, and custom graphics cost an additional $300.

But skiing’s supposed to be fun, Lauterbach reminded me, and if you’re not comfortable, or your skis aren’t doing what you want them to do, it’s not. Plus, they last season after season.

“If you have the wrong equipment it can suck,” Lauterbach said. “We’re going to put you on something made just for you.”

If I’d had just one more cocktail, I might have signed a check. After all, I’ve ordered a pizza made to my exact specifications hundreds of times.

You want olives on that?

Check it out at wagnerskis.com.