Spring ski trip a time of reflection, transition

MIKE SALSBURY

Originally published Tuesday, April 2, 2002

The springtime view from the mountain of my youth has not changed much.

After a six-year break from my favorite of all wintertime activities, I returned to the ski hill where I first learned the importance of finding fall lines, carving on ice and skidding through slush.

It was Easter Sunday and Mount Spokane was empty. A wind blew strongly all day. The sun occasionally teased the diehard skiers with its round glow hidden behind a blanket of clouds. A piece of blue sky remained visible over the distant North Idaho landscape, and the sun would occasionally light a distant peak or reflect from a faraway mountain lake.

I had renewed my relationship with a sport I loved and I was in heaven.

My ski partner and friend, Jill, encouraged me to ski again. "It's like riding a bike," she would say as I shared my uncertainty of returning to the sport. I'm almost 40 and my knees ache because I am training to run the Capitol City Marathon. My main concern was that the potential for injury is now much greater than when I was younger.

And it's been awhile.

Many changes

During those six years, equipment has changed. When looking for some new ski boots I wanted technical advice. Instead, the salesman reminded me that boots are really just boots. Get some that fit. I followed that advice and found a used pair for $50 rather than shelling out $400 for something brand new and slick. My recycled boots worked well.

With their revolutionary design, sidecut skis are amazing. The last time I skied they had not been invented. Speed, stability and acceleration all in one small package.

Spring is my favorite season to ski. It's a season with sun and a season of renewal. As spring approaches, recreational skiers are often in their best form of the year and the mountain begins to offer new challenges.

On my old mountain, a group of young skiers lined up to take turns going over a large jump. Hoots of encouragement and laughter echoed from their spot on the hill.

"That was me as a teen," I told my ski partner. We watched them enjoy the moment, bustling with freshness and energy. "They don't know it now, but they'll remember that joy the rest of their lives."

All kinds of people

During a day of spring skiing the slopes offer change and transition. Mornings are cold and the snow is frozen. New snowfall is rare.

On Mount Spokane many of the runs looked almost brown from lack of new snow, but no one seemed to care on this Easter Sunday. On the bunny hill parents with skiers barely old enough to walk were guiding the little ones, staying connected with long leashes.

Ski Patrol volunteers were atop the mountain and visible all day long moving around with their safe and controlled skiing style. Youthful racers were carving up a slalom course near Chair 1 and filling the lodge with noisy exuberance during breaks from competition.

Skiers from my era were there as well. They were using short, quick turns, searching for mogul fields and meticulously planting their poles. It was a style of skiing we learned in the '70s. Where's my bota bag and bandanna?

The transition continues. As the day warms, the snow softens. It becomes a little slushy but through the process of melting and freezing again the snow is granular and cornlike. Skiing in corn is easy and forgiving but a little slower.

A spring run can start with a hardpack of crud and end in puddles of slush and corn. It's a variety of ski conditions that come from a mountain in transition.

It happens when the season changes.

Mike Salsbury is The Olympian's photo editor.

The Olympian Copyright 2002

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