If you’re a die-hard skier, or at least a loyal reader of Highland Outdoors, you’ve likely heard of Ullr, the Norse god of snow, hunting, and archery. As the patron saint of skiers, Ullr is the go-to deity when it’s time to pray for powder. Skiers—especially of the cross-country variety—are an enigmatic bunch and have all sorts of bizarre rituals to claim they made the white stuff fall from the sky. Some put trail maps in their freezers, others burn effigies of all shapes and sizes at the start of meteorological winter. But the one thing they all have in common is their worship of Ullr.
I first learned about Ullr during a particularly memorable ski outing with my wife, Nikki, at the White Grass Ski Touring Center here in Canaan Valley. Since then, I’ve become quite obsessed with his powdery presence. On more than one occasion, I’ve uttered that “Ullr giveth, and Ullr taketh away,” during the last decade of mildly disappointing winters here in the Mountain State.
In hopes of doing my part to usher in what many expect to be an epic winter, I put my trail map in the freezer and summoned Ullr from his ethereal home in the Yew Dales, aka Ydalir, to discuss his role as the god of snow, his journey through West Virginia, and what really makes him tick (hint: it’s not that silly snow dance you do after too much moonshine). This interview was translated to be comprehensible by mortals and edited for a soothing Scandinavian sense of clarity.
What’s your background?
That’s a loaded question to start off with, don’t you think? As you can probably guess, being the stepson of Thor wasn’t necessarily a cakewalk of an upbringing. Skiing in the shadows of such well-known figures makes you, how do you say, a little socially anxious? Especially considering that, for centuries, I was only worshipped during the all-important Viking times in southern Norway and central Sweden, but not in Denmark, where that really matters to me. But I digress, as it’s weird to speak in the third person, and time-wasting tangents aren’t really an issue for [us Norse gods]. Anyway, as somewhat of a loner, I immediately excelled at shredding the snow I created and getting consecutive bull’s-eyes with my trusty bow. So, here I am today, regaining popularity among skiers as people realize there’s, like, way less snow than there used to be. Hmm, I wonder why?
What brought you to West Virginia?
It’s sort of a sore spot for me, but over the eons I’ve learned the importance of radical candor and vulnerability. Basically, I took over the throne in Asgard after Odin was booted for some romantic misconduct, and reigned for ten lovely but short years (which is the equivalent of a picosecond for you mortals) before Odin stormed back in and exiled me to Sweden. Which, I gotta say, is a pretty dope place in which to be exiled. But anyone who’s spent considerable time in even the snowiest paradise eventually learns that, sometimes, you just gotta go. One day, I was doing some soul searching amid a mythical stag hunt and heard this bizarre, buzzy whisper on the winds. It said, “You just gotta check this place out, man!” That led me, of all places, to Canaan Valley. I showed up during what most any mortal would consider a marginal ski day and was like, whaaaat?! This place is actually pretty cool considering the lack of fjords and glaciers and what not. A few snooty skiers who didn’t look like they were having any fun told me to head further west to Colorado, but honestly, if I have to hear one more bro talk about his VO2 max and one-up me on how he skied Asgard before it was on Strava, I’m gonna lose my cool—and we all know what that means. A century of rains upon your beloved mountains!
Well, you certainly won’t hear that from me. So, what inspires your love of snow and skiing?
I mean, what’s not to like? Summer is totally overrated and is for lazy, hedonistic gods like Freyr who want to lounge around on floating couches and obnoxiously pop cherry tomatoes in their teeth. I’m all about getting after it! How can you not love snow? In case you didn’t know, there’s not snow on any other planet in the universe—remember that when you morons try to move to Mars here in a few centuries. I’ve spent epochs coating your glorious mountains with its perfect texture all for you get out and have a damn good time.
Hey, no one loves snow more than me! Tell me about your first experience skiing here.
Oh man, I’ll never forget it. But really, we should start off with my first trip to what you mortals now consider West Virginia, which was about 500 million years ago, when the “Mountain State” was actually a shallow sea in which me and my homies used to water ski behind Sól’s chariot, which was of course pulled by Árvakr and Alsviðr. Man, I miss those days! You’d think a beach vacation would be all chill vibes, but we were a rowdy crew.
Anyway, my first ski in West Virginia was about 290 million years ago, after that inland sea got raised way up and eroded into your small but lovely mountains. The first snow I dropped there was one for the books! I vividly remember hucking off a thousand-foot escarpment and getting a perfect shot on a mastodon before sticking the landing. Those telemark turns were way harder when the skis were just giant pieces of lepidodendron bark and twig bindings.
I bet! I still can’t turn on skinny skis. How does skiing in West Virginia compare to your home terrain of the Yew Dales?
You’d be surprised at how many people ask me this. It’s like everyone knows about West Virginia. Is there, like, a famous song about it or something? First off, shout out to the Dales! The snow never melts, there’s always free refills in the plum lines, and the yew trees just make the best bows in all of Asgard. But, honestly, I’m always amazed with what you people can do with a mere thousand feet of vertical there. When I bless you with a legit powder day, there’s nowhere I’d rather ski than West Virginia. Facts!
What’s your favorite place to ski in West Virginia?
Do you really think I, a Norse god, would fall for your mainstream media tactics? I know how particularly loyal you West Virginia skiers are to one area or another, so let’s just say my favorite place is anywhere with a solid base. Which, if you want that, you best get down and start worshipping, mortal.
I will after this interview, I swear. Why is telemark the ultimate form of skiing?
I could see the gulp in your throat at the end of the last question, I was just messing with you, man. Clearly this winter is off to a great start, is it not? Does Ullr make it happen? Of course he does!
Telemark is the ultimate form of skiing because the free heel is a manifestation of the free spirit to which I obviously embody and promote through my omnipotent practice of ski archery. Oh, what, you thought the “Free the heel, free the soul” quote came from some granola hippie in Vermont? Hell no, that was me like three billion years ago during the early days of your geologic timeline. Also, regardless of how many alpine skiers deride you, never stop telemark skiing, for, as we just discussed, it’s the ultimate form of worship in my direction.
Do you ever take your stepdad Thor out skiing?
We used to ski together, but ever since he started filming all those Marvel movies, his ego has swollen to multiversal proportions. Even when I can muster up the best powder day you could imagine, he’s out slamming mead with the Guardians of the Galaxy and trying to get another date with Kiera Knightly. I’m to the point where I’m about to hit up Loki to go skiing, and all he wants to do is shut down the ski lifts during peak hours to mess with the mortals.
What type of music do you listen to?
People usually see my garb and think they have to blast heavy metal when I show up, which I honestly find a bit presumptuous. When I’m out skiing, I usually get down to some 90s hip-hop or some post-industrial techno. And for après ski, nothing beats the vibe of a Steely Dan record.
Mead or moonshine?
Meadshine! I like to mix it up.
What’s the deal with the subpar winters as of late?
Do I really need to answer this? I think the answer would be obvious, but let’s just say that you humans aren’t as wise as you fancy yourselves. I could drop some knowledge about the critical importance of the El Niño–Southern Oscillation and its impact on your oceanic and atmospheric climate patterns, but let’s just say I’ve been overbooked trying to save winter around the globe. Before the 21st century, it was a few million prayers to answer per decade, but now, I’m up to a few million prayers per month. You think your inbox is insurmountable on Monday morning? Hah!
I didn’t think Norse gods could get a case of the Mondays, most bummer. So, what do you do over the summer?
Well, obviously, winter on Earth never sleeps. Most people think I chase powder around the globe, but since I’ve always got freshies over in Ýdalir, I like to hit the beach and relive those water-skiing glory days with my wife, Skadi. Have you ever been to Wales? Man, it’s a real gem! Really reminds us of Gandvík, but way less dangerous since it doesn’t have giant serpents.
I’ve always wanted to go to Wales! What are your hopes for the future of winter in West Virginia?
Well, let me start by expanding that and saying that I hope you humans get your act together and figure out how to coexist with your surroundings. In the meantime, I’ll continue to do my best to blanket your hills and hollers with champagne powder, but, as I previously stated, those pow days will be intermittent since I’m in such high demand now. Other than that, don’t lose the authentic ski vibe that exists only here. It’s really beautiful, man. It almost makes me want to be a mortal living in annotated bliss among you… almost. Skål!
I’d like to give a special shoutout to my friend, Gus Trauth, a professional animator who did the amazing art for this profile. We used to sit around the kitchen table making ridiculous drawings of Vikings, robots, and other fodder. I’m glad that thirty-some years later, he’s still at it!
