In a small fast-food place in northern Idaho, Sam was reading a news report on his laptop. It was about their latest case, although of course the article never mentioned them. The police were calling it the suicide of a grave robber/ cannibal, since they found a body with his head hacked off and a bunch of half-eaten corpses in the closet. Sam wondered how they thought he cut his own head off. That ghoul's head had taken three good swipes with a machete to come off.

He looked up from his laptop as Dean approached with a bag of food in one hand and his phone in the other. "Alright, we'll look into it. Bye." Dean finished his conversation as he plopped the food on the table and sat down. He hung up the phone, and Sam asked, "Who was that?"

"Bobby," Dean answered. "He thinks he might have a lead on this Mother of All thing."

"Well, I'm game. What is it?"

"According to Bobby there's this mountain called Blackwood Mountain. Completely normal until the 60's."

"What happened in the 60's?"

"Mining accident. Some of the miners were trapped in a rock fall, but some of them were never found. Ever since, whenever people go up that mountain, some of them die."

"I dunno, we've only been seeing the weird stuff for about a year. If this stuff started in the 60's, do you really think it has anything to do with this?"

"I don't know, but we don't have any better leads right now."

"I guess you're right. Where is this mountain anyway?"

"Oh, this trip is going international, Sammy. It's in Calgary, Canada. Like that place didn't have it bad enough already."

Sam snorted. "Yeah. Well, looks we're going to have to break out the passports again. Lucky for you Dean, it's only about five hours away by car. No planes this time."

"Thank God," Dean replied, unwrapping a sausage biscuit and digging in.

"Dang, these people are loaded." Dean whistled in appreciation.

Sam and Dean stood on the front porch of the Washington family mansion. They owned most of the mountain including a ski lodge, and their twin daughters had been the last two victims of the mountain. They hoped to get some good info about the mountain, under the guise of putting together a magazine article about the mountain for Adventure Retreats Monthly. Dean rang the doorbell, and a few seconds later a woman opened the door. She looked to be in her late forties, and her long black hair reached about halfway down her dark blue cocktail dress.

"Um, hello. We're doing a magazine article on Blackwood mountain, and we were wondering if you would mind answering a few questions about it," Sam explained.

"Oh, of course!" the woman exclaimed. "I don't have long, I need to leave for a charity dinner soon, but I have time for a few questions until then. I'm Mrs. Washington." She offered her hand to them.

Sam shook her hand. "I'm Sam Meredith, and this is my partner for the article…"

"Dean Wright," Dean introduced himself, shaking her proffered hand.

"Well, Sam and Dean, come on in," Mrs. Washington invited them.

Moments later, the three of them were seated on leather couches around a fancy glass coffee table.

"Okay…" Sam pretended to consult his notepad. "How long have you owned the mountain?"

"Oh, about five years ago. Nobody seemed to want it, so we got a fairly good price for it, and we still had plenty of money left to convert the old hotel into a ski lodge."

Sam wrote that information down in his notepad. "You say nobody seemed to want it. Do you have any idea why that would be?"

"Well, there was this one man. He was apparently warning everybody that it was dangerous to build on the mountain, something about it being sacred to his forefathers."

"And you built there anyway?" Sam asked.

"Yes, of course. I mean, the mountain couldn't be any more dangerous than any other mountain, could it?"

"Well, there was that terrible accident that was… just coming up on one year ago, isn't it?" Sam had already done some research on the mountain on the way up, and he had read all the news reports about the accident.

"Oh yes, Hannah and Beth," Mrs. Washington wavered. She seemed to fighting back tears. "It was a terrible thing. Nothing to do with the mountain though, just a horrible accident."

Dean cut in. "If I may, was there anything strange going on the night of the accident?"

Mrs. Washington sniffled. "Oh, I wasn't there. It just the kids and a bunch of their friends. Josh was drunk the whole time and doesn't remember anything, and the other kids were just too emotional to make any sense."

"I see," Dean nodded. "Has anyone been up to the lodge since the accident?"

"No, but Josh organized a little one-year anniversary party up the lodge for tonight."

Sam had been examining his notes, but his head jerked up. "What? They're going up on the mountain tonight?"

"Yes, it was Josh's idea. His psychiatrist said it will be a good way for him to get some closure. He's invited everyone who was there last year."

Sam and Dean gave each other a quick glance. Sam quickly wound up the meeting. "Alright, thank you for your time, Mrs. Washington. That's all we needed." As they were walking out of the door, a limo pulled up in front of the house. Sam and Dean barely noticed Mrs. Washington enter the limo as they rushed back to the Impala.

As they drove down the lonely forest road, Dean asked, "Who on earth has an anniversary party for someone's death? Especially at the same exact place they died?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know. Although did you hear Mrs. Washington mention that this Josh character had a psychiatrist? Perhaps he didn't take the accident very well."

Dean snorted. "Well that's just great. Not only do we have a monster to deal with, but we also have save some fruit-cake and his friends. Speaking of which, do you have any idea what we're up against?"

Sam consulted his notes again. "I've two theories right now. I'm guessing that the miners from the mining accident got pretty hungry down there."

"Like cannibalism hungry? You think we've got a Wendigo?"

"Yep. I mean, it's cold and isolated, which is where most Wendigoes live."

"Great. You said you had two theories?"

"Yeah. I did a little digging into the mining company that had the accident. And get this. The company knew the mine was dangerous, and made them keep mining anyway. So if someone complained that it was dangerous, and then got killed by a rock fall…"

"I'd be pretty pissed off. So we might have a vengeful spirit haunting the mine?"

"Yep. That about sums it up." Sam looked up and noticed a large gate on the side of the road. "Wait, is that the place?"

"Looks like it." Dean pulled over about a hundred feet away from the gate. They both got out, and Sam grabbed the already loaded duffel bag. He had packed their pistols, two sawn-off shotguns, regular and salt ammo, and two homemade flamethrowers. They had also bought winter jackets and hats for the occasion, a decision he was already glad of. It was early February in Canada, and the forecast gave a 70% chance of winter storms.

Suddenly, the road behind them was lit up by headlights. "Dean!" Sam called, pointing in that direction. Dean looked and saw the headlights, and promptly ran around to the other side of the car and ducked down. Sam and Dean watched from behind the Impala as a bus drove past and stopped at the gate. A young girl got off the bus, and the bus immediately pulled out. She stood staring the gate for a minute, then lifted up the latch and walked through to the lodge. Dean looked at Sam. "Well, let's follow her up!" The brothers got up and quietly went through the gate onto Blackwood mountain.

Once they were through the gate, they found a much larger iron gate, set in a stone wall. A note on the latch signed 'Chris' proclaimed the gate to be busted and suggested climbing over. Dean went first, then Sam tossed the duffel bag over and climbed over himself. As they headed down the path, Dean noticed something. "Hey Sam, check it out."

"What is it?" Sam asked, walking over.

"It's a plaque about some Native American belief that butterflies tell the future or something," Dean explained.

"Okay," Sam shrugged. "What does that have to do with this?"

"Do you think maybe there's some Native American hoodoo going on around the place? You know, the whole curse whoever invades this land type stuff?"

"Maybe. That would explain why it only works on people on the mountain."

"So now we have three theories to go on."

Sam shrugged. "I guess so."

The pair continued along the path and quickly found a small cable car station. "Oh no," Dean said. "Do not tell me we're going to have to go up on that thing."

Sam looked around. "I don't see any other way up, unless you want to go extreme rock climbing. So, yeah, I guess we're going to have to go up on that thing."

"Crap," Dean muttered, while Sam opened the door and went inside. Dean followed him in. Sam studied a console on the side of the room. "Looks like we're going to need a key to get this thing started."

"Like this key?" Dean asked smugly, holding up a small keychain with a single key and a tag that read 'Cable Car.'

Sam looked up in astonishment. "Where did you find that?" he asked incredulously.

Dean leaned over and put the key in the lock, then turned it with a click. All the lights on the console lit up. "On a bulletin board at the Washington's mansion."

Sam stared at him. "Dude. You just took it?"

Dean shrugged. "Yeah. Looked like it might come in handy. And it did." He pressed the button to start up the cable car. He turned toward the door and slapped Sam on the shoulder. "Come on Sammy, we got an incredibly freaky cable car ride to catch." Sam rolled his eyes and followed Dean onto the cable car.