In case you missed the colourful illustration on the cover and skipped this week’s table of contents, it’s that time of year again: time to share our best spooky stories in Pique’s annual Halloween short story cover feature.
In this year’s instalment you’ll find tales of haunted bed and breakfasts; mysterious, ill-meaning internal growths; faceless monsters on the shores of local lakes—the usual stuff.
But it doesn’t always have to be a tale of ghosts and/or goblins to send a shiver down your spine.
Sometimes the true horror lies just beneath the surface of local headlines.
On that note, here are a few more spooky tales to make your blood run cold and your hair stand on end, ripped straight from the pages of Pique.
Read on if you dare.
TOO CLOSE TO CALL
If you’ve ever worked in a newsroom, you’ll likely agree the best part of any election is the end—when all the noise and empty promises cease, the whining and complaining from candidates and their hyper-partisan supporters stops, and polite society can get on with governing itself.
Sadly, as of Pique’s weekly deadline, there is no clear winner in B.C.’s Oct. 19 provincial election, with crucial recounts pending in ridings that could flip the result from a slim NDP win to a slim Conservative win.
Uncertainty alone is indeed scary—which party will be granted the privilege of reneging on its cynical, hastily arranged election promises?—but it’s the broader implications of such provincial indecision that is chilling the air in the Pique newsroom this week.
A result this close means we are likely facing another provincial election sooner rather than later.
For extra frights, consider the fact Canada as a country will head to the polls next year… meaning we could have to endure two elections back to back… or the unthinkable: at the same time.
To top it all off, the Ghost of BC Liberals Past herself, Christy Clark, is reportedly mulling a run for the federal Liberal leadership… (insert spooky musical motif here).
FREEDOM FOR ALL
This week, Whistler celebrates two longtime community builders—Hugh Smythe and Nancy Wilhelm-Morden—by honouring them with the prestigious Freedom of the Municipality award.
The pair join a distinguished list of 14 other Whistler locals who dedicated their lives to making Whistler the world-class, ski-resort powerhouse it is today.
Reading their list of accomplishments is like a handy guide to community building—these people built parks, trails, libraries, a municipal council from scratch and an entire village on top of a garbage dump.
Their achievements are worth recognizing and celebrating, and Smythe and Wilhelm-Morden are two deserving names to add to the wall of honour.
But for all those historic accomplishments, Whistlerites of today are struggling more than ever before.
The Whistler Community Services Society is about halfway through a six-week fundraising campaign, targeting $80,000 by Nov. 1.
Every dollar helps: according to stats presented at its AGM last month, demand for WCSS services is “through the roof,” with the food bank alone serving almost three times the number of clients it did during COVID through the first four months of 2024.
Ghosts and goblins are spooky, sure, but have you seen what it costs to rent in Whistler these days? Been shopping at any of the local grocery stores?
Not having long-term community members—those names we can one day add to the so-called wall of honour—is the real horror story, and on Whistler’s current trajectory, who could possibly afford to make a go of it here?
Read more (and make a donation) at mywcss.org.
NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD (SEASON)
The leaves have turned and fallen.
Foot traffic in the village is slowing; bear traffic in the valley is picking up.
The mountain is officially closed, not to reopen until Nov. 22.
Local gyms are packed with aimless Whistler athletes chasing the endorphin fix; shuffling sweatily from machine to machine, asking each other if they can work in.
Another dead season is upon us.
It’s not to be taken literally, of course—there are no zombies, vampires or other undead creatures roaming the Resort Municipality of Whistler during the fall months—but dead season always carries a tinge of dread and uncertainty with it.
What kind of winter are we in for? Will the snow arrive as promised with La Nina? Will enough workers come to fill the jobs, and will they find anywhere to live? Will tourism surge to new heights or come crashing down under the weight of cost-of-living pressures and affordability issues?
Will B.C. have a stable government by the time the snow flies?
Questions hang heavy over the valley like a thick, flesh-eating mist (or something).
But rather than end on a downer, let us close with some optimistic predictions: this year’s snow will be worlds apart from last year’s wet-n-worrisome doldrums.
Tourism will have a banner year in 2025, finally returning us to the hallowed, pre-COVID visitation numbers we still hold as the benchmark.
And Whistler Blackcomb will at long last break ground on its new Glacier 8 staff housing building, eventually taking major pressure off the local rental market.
Perspective is everything, as they say—and we feel better already.
