After the first day of this year's Holy Bowly, a good friend asked, “If you had to narrow it down to one word, how would you describe it?” A week later, as we were driving out of Banff, AB, reminiscing on an incredible week of riding and taking in the jagged vastness of the Canadian Rockies, it finally came to me.
Cathedral.
That was the answer. It had been sitting with me all week as I attempted to take in the entirety of the experience. For a one word summary, there are other respectable candidates: magical, transition, gathering, essence, otherworldly, but the one that kept coming back for me was Cathedral.
The aforementioned Canadian Rockies above and Snowboy Productions Head Honcho, Krush Kulesza, holding court below.
As riders from around the world pilgrimaged to Sunshine Village for this 13th iteration of Snowboy Productions Holy Bowly, many arrived by road. Coming from the south, the mountains continually evolve as you get closer. What begins as wheat fields builds into something much larger--serrated peaks, snow-covered mountains, and millions upon millions of green treetops pulling your eyes upward to the sky. The scale of it all has a way of quieting you. For some it’s familiar, for others it’s completely new. Either way, there’s a shared feeling of gratitude, maybe even a kind of veneration, just for being there. 
Miyu Oishi bashin' and slashin'.
Justus Hines kicking it off above endless opportunities.
That feeling carried onto the hill. Before a single line was ridden, everyone gathered at the top to hear Krush set the tone for the week. Below us sat a course filled with hips, transitions, volcanoes, pockets, and bowls. Features that, over the next five days would be ridden in countless ways from a diverse group of riders vibing off what others were bringing to the table.
Each day built on the last. New lines started to appear where there hadn’t been any before. A collective progression took hold. Approaches to certain features on day one were completely different by day three. The riding evolved alongside the energy; airtime got bigger, laps stretched longer, and the flow between features became more fluid.
Ichinoshin Maruyama matching his base to the sky, and sending it up there too.
John Chew in finial mode.
By Thursday, everything came together. After a few days of shifting weather, a bright blue sky opened up, sunshine rained down, and Bowly was truly on. Riders were pushing, feeding off each other, and collaborating with the beautifully sculpted terrain. From above, it all unfolded against the backdrop of the Canadian Rockies, almost overwhelming in their scale.
Justus Hines planting one.
Cathedrals, temples, colosseums, synagogues, mosques--they aren’t just about their impressive architecture. They’re about the connection that happens inside, and who’s there to participate. In that way, this year’s Bowly felt less like an event and more like a sacred space to commune: one that people return to, contribute to, and leave with something that stays with them long after they’ve gone. A holy experience, indeed.
Rikuto Watanabe admiring his shadow.
Jesse Burtner, bootin' 'er.
Jacob Mortensen, picture perfect.
Ethan Polanski, all alone with his board and some berms.
Praise Be! For another year of Bowly!