Finally, some relief.
Our western winter sky is, at long last, once again filled with glorious flakes of snow. Our seasonal white stuff has been sorely missing this year, at least out here in the west. We’ve had to deal with almost unthinkable circumstances as a result.
Like having some ski resorts go on standby until more snow arrives. This has been the fate of Cypress, Grouse, and Seymour Mountains, ski resorts in the Vancouver vicinity, as well as Mount Washington on Vancouver Island. Here in southern Alberta, Castle Mountain discontinued its skiing operations for the season in mid-February. I guess it’s impossible to shred the powder when the slopes are grassy or rocky.
Then there’s the overwhelming dusty dryness in the air, which seemed to make my recovery from the flu much crueler this winter. I eventually resorted to buying a new humidifier in my desperate search for moist air to breathe.
Even my car has fallen victim to an annoying fine layer of dust that seems to reappear within mere seconds of a car wash. I don’t recall losing visibility out of my windows, particularly the side windows, with such regularity as the past few months. Scraping snow and ice from my car has never been a favourite activity; but I’d happily take up my trusted ice scraper every day for the rest of winter than deal with another day of this dreaded dust.
These annoyances and disappointments, perhaps, are of no big consequence, at least on a small scale. But, on a bigger scale, could we be facing dire straits?
I wonder how scared you would be if your bread and butter depended on working in the ski industry. From ski resorts to ski clothing and equipment manufacturers, there’s a lot at stake with our changing climate. Then there’s the entire sport of skiing, from recreational amateur to professional, all at risk due to warmer, drier winters. There’s a movement that goes by POW, a clever moniker, considering “pow-pow” or “pow” is a ski enthusiast’s way of saying “powder.” Aptly standing for Protect Our Winters, POW brings attention to and calls for action to fight climate concerns facing the industry. According to POW, in the US alone snow-based recreation accounts for 900,000 jobs and $67 billion being added to the economy annually.
Snow, of course, isn’t all we use water for in its crystallized form. We also use it to create ice rinks. And we all know what that can lead to—hockey! Even the NHL is concerned about climate change and what that might do to pond hockey, the starting ground of many a hockey superstar. Last year, in 2014, the NHL was the first North American major sports league ever to issue a sustainability report and account for its league’s carbon emissions. Not only working towards reducing its own impact on climate change, the NHL calls upon fans to do their part when it comes to environmental stewardship, too.
And what of the snowpack in the majestic Rockies, our mountains that scientists refer to as water towers? Have we had enough snow this year so that spring runoff quantities will satisfy our thirsty hordes, keep levels up in our rivers and lakes to sustain aquatic life, and adequately irrigate our crops? And, will there be enough snowpack to make sure we’ll be able to produce enough beer to get us through another Stampede?
The United Nations has declared March 22nd as World Water Day. The UN claims that more water is needed to manufacture a car than it takes to fill a swimming pool. The Water Footprint Network reports it takes almost 2,500 litres of water to produce just one cotton t-shirt, and that a pair of jeans requires more than triple that at almost 8,000 litres. That’s a lot of water of the mostly unseen and unappreciated kind, otherwise known as “imbedded” water. Then there’s the water we use for obvious reasons, like drinking, washing, and flushing toilets. Here in the west, all this water, whether seen or unseen, pretty much starts out as snow.
Protecting our winters—whether it’s to save our Holy Grail of hockey, keep our winter communities on life support, or just have enough water to drink and make things with—now that’s in our best interest.
